BRIDGING BINARIES: An ethnographic enquiry into student and teacher perceptions of good teaching beyond the presumed dichotomy between ‘teacher-centred and learner-centred’ pedagogies under the K to 12 reform in the Philippines

Julie Lucille H. del Valle ORCID 0000-0001-8112-1100

Submitted in total fulfilment of the

requirements of the degree

of

Doctor of Philosophy

July 2019

Youth Research Centre

Melbourne Graduate School of Education

The University of Melbourne

I dedicate this thesis to

my high school teacher, Mrs. Evelyn Brendia, who has done forty-two years of good teaching

and to

Lucas Carlisle and his generation of Filipino learners

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Abstract

In the face of international comparisons and global standards of ‘quality education’, the

Philippines overhauled its national curriculum as part of its reform of public school education.

This curriculum reform advocated for an adoption of Learner-Centered Education (LCE) as a ‘best

teaching practice’, in this following pedagogical reforms from Western nations. This policy

however placed learner-centered teaching in binary opposition with ‘teacher-centered’

instruction, creating a simplistic dichotomy between good and bad teaching. This study seeks to

explore this dichotomy by investigating what students and teachers understand to

constitute good teaching. The study takes a cultural lens and uses ethnographic methods to

investigate with teacher and student participants in two junior high school classes in the

Philippines—one an inner urban disadvantaged public school and the other located in a poor

rural community. Data gathered over a period of one month in each school include classroom

observation, student focus groups, and teacher interviews. The study illuminates the subtle

cultural elements which shape what is valued as good teaching. Findings show that the classroom

practices which are perceived as most helpful by both students and teachers are predominantly

‘teacher-centered’ instructional practices, particularly those which highlight the authoritative

role of a teacher as one who equips students for academic success. Such value placed on teacher

authority reflects the cultural respect for teachers in the Philippines. While teachers were

observed to uphold their classroom authority and practise teacher-centered methods, they also

strongly demonstrated acts of relational care for their students. These enactments were

perceived as academic care by students and seen to support their priorities to complete school

and fulfil their aspiration to help their families upon graduation. These post-school priorities

were shaped by the differing socio-economic and cultural expectations of their urban and rural

communities. The thesis posits that the Filipino valuing of malasakit (which roughly translates to

a deep sense of personal and compassionate care) and pakikisama (maintaining smooth

interpersonal relationships within a community) as manifested through caring student-teacher

relationships provides an important orientation towards understanding how learner-centered

approaches could be articulated for the Filipino context. This form of ‘academic caring’ enacts the

cultural values upheld within local places, and offers a practice which bridges the presumed

binary between learner-centered and teacher-centered instruction.

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Statement of Authorship

This is to certify that:

▪ this thesis comprises only my original work towards the Doctor of Philosophy except

where reference is made in the text of it;

▪ due acknowledgement has been made in the text to all other materials used; and

▪ this thesis is no more than 100,000 words in length exclusive of bibliographies and

appendices.

Signed:

Julie Lucille H. del Valle

1 July 2019

iii

Acknowledgements

I was told that taking PhD studies is never easy and at times, a very lonely endeavor. Indeed, it

was but the help and support of many people have made this research possible and my PhD

journey a fulfilling experience.

I especially want to extend my deepest appreciation to my supportive supervisors, Professor

Helen Cahill and Dr Daniela Acquaro whose guidance, encouragements, and gentle reminders

motivated me to press on with my research, particularly when the work seemed overwhelming.

You have given me clear directions and useful suggestions, especially ‘finding my voice within

the thesis’ which built my confidence to believe that what I was doing is a valuable contribution

to my field. Working with both of you is a blessing. I am inspired by your passion as teachers

and in awe of your hard work as my supervisors, especially when you consistently provided me

with insightful feedback within just a couple of days and responded quickly to my emails even in

early mornings on weekends. Thank you very much for your support in the past years. It is

through you that I understood what academic and personal care truly means.

My special thanks also to my panel chair, Associate Professor Hernan Cuervo for his insights,

guidance, and encouragements. I also want to thank my fellow graduate researchers and staff at

the Youth Research Center: Sally, Kencho, Cecilia, Josie, Tamara, Rachel, Eric, Michelle, Babak,

Bruce, Anne, and Rosie, who shared with me warm conversations, friendship, and food which

sustained me in my thesis work over the years. My thanks also to my Filipino PhD friends in

Melbourne: Dennis, Mar, Earvin, Bonita, OJ, Laurence, Allen, Neslie, Jackie, Eden, Nina, Charles,

Anisha, Kyukyu, Ethel, and Jay who all reminded me that I was never alone and doing PhD could

actually be fun. My special thanks to the Filipino community in Australia who became my family

away from home: Titas and Titos Lyne & Lito; Irma & Michael, Angelina & Elias; and dear friends

Joan Grace, Ice, Alex, Abby, Kat, Maridel, Roscel, Candice, Ruth, Lour, Gina, and Timmy who have

extended their support and care throughout all the milestones in my PhD journey from my

confirmation until my completion and in between—the wedding, the premature birth of my

baby, and the everyday moments of ups and downs.

Special thanks go to my loving husband, Lem. While the previous year was incredibly

challenging for both us especially that we were both in the final stretch of our PhD thesis

writing whilst taking care of our newborn, it was also filled with wonderful moments of joy as

we finally have our little Lucas. I am rendered speechless at how you were able to juggle work,

PhD writing, teaching, and chores while consistently being a caring father and a supportive

husband at the same time. You are truly an answered prayer. Finally, now that we have

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completed our respective theses, I look forward to writing more chapters of life with you. Also,

as promised, there will be more edible home-cooked meals served with a smile from here on.

My deepest thanks to our families back home whose unconditional love and support motivated

me to write through winters and homesickness.

Lastly, I wish to thank the teachers and students who participated in my study who reminded

me of how good it is to be a teacher in the Philippines despite the challenges and struggles. My

thanks also go to my university (and alma mater) back home, Ateneo de Naga University and my

mentors, Professors Ronald S.P. Elicay, Alfredo C. Fabay, and Maria Luz T. Badiola who always

believe in me and in the work that I do. Thank you for always rekindling my passion for teaching

and gently reminding me of MAGIS—‘to do more’. My sincere thanks to Fr Jun Viray, SJ and Fr

Robert Rivera, SJ for their understanding and support towards my PhD studies. I look forward

to my return to the Philippines, come back to the classroom and start doing again what I have

always loved to do.

Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam!

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Table of Contents

Abstract ..................................................................................................................................................................................i

Statement of Authorship ............................................................................................................................................... ii

Acknowledgements ........................................................................................................................................................ iii

CHAPTER ONE: Introduction ...................................................................................................................... 1

Research problem, aim, and questions ............................................................................................................... 2

Gaps in current literature and studies ................................................................................................................ 3

An attempt to fill the gaps: Using ethnography in education research ................................................. 4

Role of theory in an ethnographic research ..................................................................................................... 4

Ethnography in a study of pedagogy ................................................................................................................ 6

Ethnography and reflexivity ................................................................................................................................ 7

Starting the conversations and telling of stor(ies) ........................................................................................ 7

Shifting sands of Philippine education reforms .............................................................................................. 8

The Philippines sets sail for global education ................................................................................................. 9

Swept along the strong current of global learner-centered education reforms ............................. 12

Outline of the chapters ........................................................................................................................................... 15

Summary ...................................................................................................................................................................... 18

CHAPTER TWO: On the high seas: A rough sail for Learner-centered education as a

traveling global policy ................................................................................................................................ 20

Introduction ................................................................................................................................................................ 20

Section One: The Attractive (yet problematic) pull of the tidal learner-centered education .................. 21

Section Two: Drifting back to shore: Revisiting the definition(s) of learner-centered education ......... 30

Learner-centered teaching began as an education reform ................................................................. 30

Learner-centered practices prescribed in early studies ...................................................................... 33

Fostering relational care .............................................................................................................................. 36

Pedagogical caring .......................................................................................................................................... 37

Providing opportunities for cooperative learning ............................................................................ 44

Summary ...................................................................................................................................................................... 47

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CHAPTER THREE: Washed ashore: Picking up in history the pieces of a teaching called

‘teacher-centered’ ........................................................................................................................................ 48

Introduction ................................................................................................................................................................ 48

A brief glimpse of the story behind ‘teacher-centered’ as a negative label ...................................... 49

‘Teacher-centered instruction does not result in student underachievement’ .............................. 50

Engelmann’s Direct Instruction ..................................................................................................................... 50

Rosenshine’s model of ‘effective teaching’ under direct instruction.............................................. 52

‘Teacher-centered instruction does not turn students into passive learners’ ................................ 54

‘Teacher-centered practices do not lead to student disengagement’ ................................................. 57

Today’s ‘teacher effects’ research ...................................................................................................................... 60

Summary ...................................................................................................................................................................... 64

CHAPTER FOUR: Methodology ................................................................................................................. 66

Introduction ........................................................................................................................................................... 66

Adopting a qualitative research approach ................................................................................................ 67

Selecting the classes and participants ......................................................................................................... 67

Attempting to (co)construct multiple views of reality ......................................................................... 68

Embracing a constructivist ontology: A ethnographic researcher’s paradigm .......................... 69

Ethnography and the ‘classroom culture(s)’ ............................................................................................ 70

Roles of an ethnographer ............................................................................................................................. 70

‘Getting into the field’: time and duration .................................................................................................. 71

Engaging in ‘conversations’ with individual teachers ..................................................................... 72

Observing the two classroom ‘cultures’ ................................................................................................. 73

Taking fieldnotes ............................................................................................................................................. 74

Listening to students’ stories in focus groups ..................................................................................... 75

Engaging student responses in focus groups ...................................................................................... 77

Ethics of the study ............................................................................................................................................... 78

Data Analysis ......................................................................................................................................................... 80

Summary ................................................................................................................................................................. 81

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CHAPTER FIVE: “Grades are something, but they’re not everything” ........................................ 83

Introduction ................................................................................................................................................................ 83

Ciudad Public High School: A demographic and socio-economic profile .......................................... 85

The junior class ..................................................................................................................................................... 87

Not just for tests but for life, too ......................................................................................................................... 88

Mrs. Francia: The students’ (life) coach ....................................................................................... 89

Explaining well during lectures ..................................................................................................................... 90

Lineage of ‘long experience’........................................................................................................................ 91

Teacher accountability ................................................................................................................................. 92

Race to cover content .................................................................................................................................... 93

Fostering caring student-teacher relationships in the classroom ................................................... 94

‘Response-ability’ towards students’ needs and priorities in school ........................................ 96

Thinking on your feet .............................................................................................................................................. 98

Mrs. Pili: The inquirer .................................................................................................................................... 99

‘Student-team reports’ ..................................................................................................................................... 100

Mrs. Aga and Mr. Sirang: The group facilitators ............................................................................. 102

Encouraging students to learn in big groups called ‘groupings’ .................................................... 102

‘Groupings’ to promote peer relationships and group harmony .............................................. 103

Use of ‘fast-tracking’ to compensate for the time lost in ‘groupings’ ...................................... 104

‘Groupings’ to cope with economic constraints ............................................................................... 105

Conclusion ................................................................................................................................................................. 107

CHAPTER SIX: “Explaining is caring” .................................................................................................. 110

Introduction .............................................................................................................................................................. 110

Most helpful teacher practices according to the urban students ........................................................ 111

Providing activities within ‘groupings’ ..................................................................................................... 111

Behind the urban students’ indifference towards Mrs. Pili as a ‘good teacher’ ....................... 113

“We’d rather have groupings not graded” .......................................................................................... 113

Nurturing group harmony through ‘pakikisama’ ............................................................................ 115

‘Getting good grades’ as another priority ........................................................................................... 116

Giving ‘beautiful’ lectures ............................................................................................................................... 117

What are ‘good grades’ for? ...................................................................................................................... 119

‘Good grades are for honoring parents and helping the family’ ................................................ 119

“When a teacher explains, she cares” ................................................................................................... 120

Establishing caring student-teacher relationship in the classroom ............................................. 121

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Maintaining a ‘teacherly’ distance.......................................................................................................... 122

Keeping conversations ‘less personal, more academic’ ................................................................ 124

Conclusion ................................................................................................................................................................. 126

CHAPTER SEVEN: “The teacher is still, and will always be, the classroom authority” ..... 130

Introduction .............................................................................................................................................................. 130

Barrio Public High School: A demographic and socio-economic profile ......................................... 132

The junior class ................................................................................................................................................... 133

The teacher who stands seven feet tall .......................................................................................................... 134

Mrs. Alab: A figure of authority ............................................................................................................... 135

‘Teacher authority’ in a Filipino context ............................................................................................. 139

Giving lectures or ‘teacher-talk’ ................................................................................................................... 141

Perceived value towards ‘teacher-talk’ and ‘teacher authority’ ..................................................... 144

‘Pakikisama’ or maintaining harmonious relationships ............................................................... 144

Considering contextual influences on the practice of teacher-centered methods ............. 145

Creating strong ties with the family through ‘home visits’ .............................................................. 147

Keeping rural students in school ............................................................................................................ 147

Helping the students relate lessons to rural life .............................................................................. 149

Building relationship with the rural community ............................................................................. 150

Rural teachers as neighbours ................................................................................................................... 151

Rural teachers as companions ................................................................................................................. 151

Conclusion ................................................................................................................................................................. 152

CHAPTER EIGHT: “Nurturing a sense of pride in belonging to a rural farm” ....................... 154

Introduction .............................................................................................................................................................. 154

The teacher who can make time fly ................................................................................................................ 155

Mrs. Ningning: A facilitator of learning ............................................................................................... 156

Incorporating local themes and values ..................................................................................................... 156

‘Localising’ as a teaching strategy .......................................................................................................... 157

The mentality of ‘local pride’ and prejudice among rural students ......................................... 158

The rural perceptions of work as ‘find-life’ ........................................................................................ 161

Encouraging student-led activities in pairs rather than in groups ............................................... 163

Economic impediments to ‘groupwork’ .............................................................................................. 163

Silenced barriers towards ‘groupwork’ ............................................................................................... 164

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Conclusion ................................................................................................................................................................. 167

CHAPTER NINE: “Tough teachers truly care”................................................................................... 169

Introduction .............................................................................................................................................................. 169

Most helpful teacher practices in rural students’ learning.................................................................... 170

Establishing order and discipline in the classroom ............................................................................. 170

Why the students did not perceive Mrs. Ningning’s practices as ‘good teaching’ .............. 172

Joining students in their after-school and rural community activities ........................................ 175

‘Compassionate caring’ of teachers as a rural ‘companion’ ......................................................... 177

Strong community ties and the promotion of ‘true cooperation’ ............................................. 179

Providing rural students with individual learning activities ........................................................... 180

‘True cooperation’ according to the rural students ........................................................................ 182

‘The classroom is for studying; outside is learning about life’ ................................................... 183

Giving well-explained lectures and recitations ..................................................................................... 184

Encouraging recitations ............................................................................................................................. 184

Responding to students’ personal goal of ‘helping my family’ ................................................... 186

Conclusion ................................................................................................................................................................. 188

CHAPTER TEN: Conclusion ..................................................................................................................... 190

Introduction .............................................................................................................................................................. 190

Methodological findings: The value of ethnographic enquiry in a study of pedagogy .............. 192

Synthesis of ethnographic findings ................................................................................................................. 195

What does ‘teacher-centered’ mean in this study? ................................................................................... 199

What is good teaching in this study? .............................................................................................................. 201

Reconceptualising the ‘learner’ under the Learner-Centered Teaching framework .................. 202

Implications for practice and policy ............................................................................................................... 203

Directions for future research ........................................................................................................................... 205

Final thoughts and reflections ........................................................................................................................... 206

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References .................................................................................................................................................... 209

APPENDIX A: Pre-observation Interview Protocol for teachers ............................................... 224

APPENDIX B: Post-observation Interview Protocol for teachers ............................................. 226

APPENDIX C: Focus group interview protocol ................................................................................ 227

APPENDIX D: Plain Language Statement for teachers .................................................................. 230

APPENDIX E: Consent forms for teachers ......................................................................................... 231

APPENDIX F: Plain Language Statement for students .................................................................. 232

APPENDIX G: Consent forms for students ......................................................................................... 233

APPENDIX H: Plain Language Statement for parents on behalf of students ........................ 234

APPENDIX I: Consent forms for parents on behalf of students ................................................. 235

1

C H A P T E R O N E

Introduction Under strong global imperatives for education reform and in the face of international

comparisons, the Philippines launched the most “comprehensive basic education reform

initiative ever done in the country since the establishment of the public education system more

than a century ago” (Okabe, 2013, p. 2). This reform overhauled the national curriculum by adding

two years to the former ten-year basic education program, requiring the completion of secondary

education in six years rather than four in the old curriculum. This shift to a K to 12 curriculum

became far more urgent when the Philippines, prior to this reform, remained one of the last three

countries among the 193 members states of UNESCO with a ten-year pre-university education

(Adarlo & Jackson, 2017; UNESCO 2011 in Crow & O’Donoghue, 2013) and also fell short in

attaining the 2015 Education For All Goals (Coali-Rodriguez, 2008). Thus, in its attempt to

provide education that is “globally competitive based on a pedagogically sound curriculum that

is on par with international standards”, the Philippines transitioned to a K to12 education in 2013

by virtue of Republic Act (RA) 10533, also known as the Enhanced Basic Education Act of 2013,

which states that the national “curriculum shall be learner-centered” (Philippine Republic Act No.

10533, 2013, p. 2, emphasis in original).

For the curriculum to be learner-centered, the reform policy mandates for the “use

pedagogical approaches that are constructivist, inquiry-based, reflective, collaborative and

integrative” (Republic Act No. 10533, 2013, p. 2). The Southeast Asian Ministers of Education,

Innovation and Technology (SEAMEO-INNOTECH) K to 12 Toolkit: Reference guide for teacher

educators, school administrators, and teachers also states that

the teacher is encouraged to use appropriate learner-centered teaching approaches, such as experiential/contextual learning; problem-based action learning; differentiated instruction; health skills-based education with life skills and value-based strategies” (SEAMEO-INNOTECH, 2012, p. 44).

Within this reform policy, the SEAMEO-INNOTECH K to 12 Toolkit also recommends for “teacher-

centered pedagogical strategies [be] applied…to a lesser extent” (p. 44). This is because these

teacher-centered forms of teaching, as discussed in the Policy Brief of the Philippine Senate

Economic Office (2011) could have attributed to the ‘lack of interest in attending school and low

participation rates’ among students (p. 2) and the ‘decreasing National Achievement Test rates’

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(p. 3). Similar reasons are enumerated in the first three pages of House Bill 6643 which called for

the Philippine Department of Education to shift to a “curriculum [which] shall be learner-

centered, inclusive, and developmentally appropriate” (Philippine House of Representatives

Enhanced Basic Education Act of 2012, p. 1-3). As the K to 12 curriculum undersecretary Dina

Ocampo and colleagues noted in their Human Development Network Discussion Paper, this

reform policy clearly indicates the “Department of Education’s discursive shift to a learner- rather

than a teacher-centered education” (Bautista, Bernardo, Ocampo, 2009, p. 8).

As the country’s education becomes more ‘global’—through the aspiration to become

more ‘learner-centered’—the Philippines is challenged with several issues in implementing

learner-centered teaching approaches in its classrooms. One issue is that the reform policy can

be read as placing learner-centered teaching in a binary opposition against teacher-centered

instruction, thus potentially creating a simplistic dichotomy between good and bad teaching, and

positioning ‘bad teaching’ in the form of teacher-centered pedagogical approaches as one of the

leading factors behind the country’s deteriorating quality of education.

Research problem, aim, and questions

The presumed dichotomy between learner-centered and teacher-centered pedagogies couched

within the national education reform policy in the Philippines points to the need for a critical

investigation into how ‘good and effective’ teaching is understood and practised in the grassroots

level—the classroom. With this research problem, this study aims to examine teacher and student

perceptions of what constitutes good teaching in two junior classes within two secondary schools

in the Philippines—one in a disadvantaged public school in a city center and another in a much

poorer rural community. With this aim, I raise the following questions:

1. How do teachers in a junior urban disadvantaged high school and in a junior rural disadvantaged high school in the Philippines understand, value, and set out to practise good teaching?

2. Which teacher practices do students in an urban and a rural high school

find helpful in their learning?

3. To what extent are these teacher and student views consistent with what the researcher observes to be effective use of learner-centered and teacher-centered pedagogies within the two research settings?

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Gaps in current literature and studies

Much of what is currently known about effective teaching in the Philippines derives from

international literature. There is a paucity of local research which can provide ‘evidence’ for

national education reform policies. Thereby the international studies are drawn on as

prescriptions for what teaching and learning should look like in Filipino classrooms. This

therefore makes the imperative towards ‘learner-centered’ approaches, as Schweisfurth (2013)

puts it, susceptible to misinterpretation and ‘inappropriate transfer’ within diverse cultural

settings. Such risks become even more pronounced when studies on learner-centered teaching

looked mainly into the perceptions of teachers and administrators, while overlooking those of

students whose perceptions can make valuable contributions in the formulation of inclusive

policies that advocate for true education reform.

There are recent Philippine-based studies investigating learner-centered education, a few

of which have drawn heavily on quantitative data using mixed-method approaches, and have

been located mostly in tertiary level education (e.g. Magno, 2007; Magno, & Sembrano, 2009;

Gonzales, 2014) with focus in curriculum core areas of mathematics (e.g. Cabrera, 2017) and

science (e.g. Bernardo, Limjap, Prudente, & Roleda, 2008). There are two significant Philippine-

based qualitative research studies: Bustos-Orosa’s (2008) study on ‘good teaching’ in a university

level and the study of de Mesa and de Guzman (2006) on ‘constructivist’ and ‘traditional teaching’

in primary and secondary levels. However, the findings of both studies are drawn predominantly

from teacher data. There is therefore a strong need for qualitative research which includes

student views about good teaching within disadvantaged high school contexts, especially given

that it is at the high school level that the latest Philippine education reform has a direct impact.

Most importantly, it is high schools which, Okabe (2013) noted, needed the attention of teachers,

researchers, and policymakers because the

role of secondary education goes beyond education. It is a period important in the formation of personality. … Thus, enhancing and improving this stage of education and life is of particular importance, not only for economic development but also for fostering a population of socially and mentally healthy people (p. 22).

This shows the need for in-depth qualitative research in the Philippines, particularly those which

engage in ethnographic enquiry into student perceptions of learner-centered teaching, as this

form of teaching, needless to say, is for and about the students. With these research gaps in mind,

I used ethnography as a research method to examine the perceptions of ‘good teaching’ among

students and teachers from two high schools of different geographical contexts—one in a

disadvantaged public school in a city center and another in a much poorer rice-farming rural

community.

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An attempt to fill the gaps: Using ethnography in education research

Developing an ‘ethnographic stance’ amongst teachers and education researchers can promote a

‘critical and reflective (as opposed to a prescriptive)’ curriculum and pedagogy (Hamilton, 1999,

p. 429). Such critical reflection is particularly important especially at a time when, as Hamilton

(1999) notes, standardized curricula and uniformed pedagogies are introduced through

education reforms across different countries. Ethnography, Hamilton (1999) further notes, has

the potential as a learning resource especially when employed in education settings. It is a

valuable source of learning because ethnography in education research can provide ‘teacher-

researchers’ the opportunities to critically reflect on their practice, theorise about pedagogies,

and engage in questions which challenge prescriptive notions about ‘effective’ pedagogies

(Hamilton, 1999). Therefore, engaging in ethnographic enquiry, as Gordon (2002) explains,

deepens our understanding of the processes of teaching and learning in various communities,

moving teachers and researchers into the classrooms with a more critical and reflective lens in

examining policies, practices, and pedagogies.

Role of theory in an ethnographic research

Engaging in ethnography as a research approach is not without challenges. One of these

challenges is the way ethnographic studies, along with other approaches of qualitative research

is viewed by positivist researchers as a highly subjective research design, where the assumptions,

preconceived values, theories, and perspectives of the researcher are presumed to stain the

validity of the study. These very assumptions of qualitative researchers, however, place them on

a vantage point as a credible human instrument for data collection and analysis (Merriam, 1998;

Hammersley & Atkinson, 1995). This process of collecting and analysing ethnographic data is

another point of critique among positivist researchers, especially when ethnographers “fail to

employ a theoretical framework that incorporates [their] positions […] and cultural orientations

to attach meaning to their divergent standing” (Wacquant, 2002 in Wilson & Chaddha, 2010, p.

8). However, as the ethnographer Elijah Anderson (2002) contends, a theory can play a more

inductive rather than a deductive role in an ethnographic research. For instance, the aspects of

“ethnographic research, such as participant observation, are almost by definition inductive, as

researchers try to make sense of new findings” uncovered during fieldwork (Wilson & Chaddha,

2010, p. 22).

The inductive role of a theory in ethnographic studies can be further understood in a way

that theoretical insights inform the interpretation of the ethnographic data uncovered in the

context of discovery. In this context of discovery, as Wilson and Chaddha (2010) explain, it is

5

generally acknowledged that ethnography enables researchers to “uncover relationships that

have not been explicitly spelled out in theoretical formulations” (p. 1). They further note that

“these discoveries often lead to the formation of hypotheses that provide direction for further

research either involving smaller ethnographic samples or with larger and more representative

samples” (p. 2). Perhaps the ethnographer Mitchell Duneier has a more vivid way of explaining

the inductive role of theory in ethnographic research. He writes:

[it] is not that ethnography extracts a theory out of clinical data. Rather the idea is that the ethnographer comes to site with the sociological equivalent of the doctor’s medicine bag of diagnostic tools derived from already-existing […] theory and uses these tools to generate a specific explanation of the symptoms in the site (Duneier, 2002, p. 1566).

While an overarching theoretical framework (deductive) is important in most research, relying

on a single and consistent theory is conducive to ‘deterministic interpretations’ and run the risk

of becoming “overly committed to macro-level explanations without leaving adequate room for

micro-level specificity and nuance” (Duneier, 2002 in Wilson and Chaddha, 2010, p. 15). It is in

these reasons why ethnographers such as Anderson (2002) and Duneier (2002) tend to be

inductive in their use of theor(ies) in their ethnographic studies where their interpretations are

influenced by different theoretical works of scholars and those from various extant literature.

In interpreting their data, what ethnographers do, as Clifford Geertz (1973) explains, is to

try to analyse or ‘make sense of the structures of signification’ which inform people’s actions (p.

9-10). Besides, as Geertz (1973) further explains, the definition of doing ethnography is being

able to interpret ‘thick descriptions’ from the empirical data. By empirical data, Geertz (1973)

explains, “are really our own construction of other people constructions of what they and their

compatriots are up to” (p. 9). This inductive and interpretative analysis in ethnographic studies

evolves through immersion of the lives of those we seek to understand, over a considerable

period of time and across a range of social contexts. Analysis encompasses a range of different

qualitative research techniques within its orbit—from unstructured interviews to casual

conversations; from simple observations of the comings and goings of people in their everyday

lives to full participation alongside them in their work (Hammersley & Atkinson, 1995 in James,

2001, p. 246). Thus, in the process of analysing ethnographic data,

the ethnographer integrates new empirical findings with theoretical arguments not in the sense of testing prior theoretically-driven hypothesis but in using his or her theoretical knowledge to make sense of the new data uncovered in the field research (Wilson and Chaddha, 2010, p. 3).

It is in this inductive process of interpretation and co-constructing meaning involved in

ethnography that deepens and adds richness to discovering ‘multiple realities’ and ‘different

6

kinds of truths’ (Hammersley & Atkinson, 1995). Such depth in understanding, interpreting, and

constructing realities may not be fully captured in positivist research. Despite a long history of

positivistic laboratory-based research various fields including curriculum and pedagogy,

ethnography, James (2001) noted, is now appreciated for the insight which it can yield into the

social aspects of children’s development and their learning in ‘particular cultural contexts’ (p.

250). In the case of this research project, the use of ethnography as a research approach allowed

me to capture a situated understanding of the views each teacher and a group of students have

about ‘good teaching’ beyond the presumed binary between learner-centered and teacher-

centered pedagogies under the education reform policy in the Philippines. The combination of

ethnographic methods such as participant observation, student focus groups, and in-depth

teacher interviews enabled me to examine the cultural conditions of learning and the

complexities of teaching within a classroom. These ethnographic methods then provided me with

the opportunity to identify those pedagogies which were strongly valued by both teacher and

students as most helpful in student learning. Most importantly, adopting ethnography as a

research approach allowed me to gain a deeper understanding of how local values could either

reinforce or limit the practice of certain pedagogies and also shape the conceptions of ‘good

teaching’ within cultural and geographical places.

Ethnography in a study of pedagogy

Cultural and geographical places are critical dimensions for an ethnographic research in

pedagogy such as this study. To ‘sanitize’ research on pedagogy from local values and culture, as

Robin Alexander (2008) strongly argues, could run the risk of a superficial analysis of observed

teaching practices as values pervade in every corner of the classroom. Alexander (2008) further

argues that values within a local place have an impact on shaping and explaining an observable

pedagogical practice. It is critical therefore for an ethnographer as researcher of pedagogy to be

mindful of her own as well as the local cultural values in examining classrooms because ‘within a

classroom is a culture’ where its school community shapes the beliefs, practices, and behaviors of

teachers and students (Martin, 1987). Similarly, Freire (1968/1995) and Kincheloe, McLaren, and

Steinberg (2011) have argued in their critical pedagogy that ‘teacher researchers’ must

understand the ways students see themselves as learners in relation to their sociocultural

context. Hence, ‘teacher researchers’, mindful of these cultural dimensions of classrooms, become

“ethnographers surveying the terrain of their classroom culture” (Alexander, 2003). The rigours

of ethnographic research then allow the ‘teacher researcher’ to discover multiple truths

according to different people, including the observer herself (Spradley & McCurdy, 1972).

7

Ethnography and reflexivity

Rigour in ethnographic research is built through methods used to provide access to the

complexity of the research subjects’ perspectives and experiences (Polkinghorne, 2007). The

richness of the data builds the validity of a study. To attain such quality in an ethnographic

research, a degree of reflexivity is required. This means that there is a need for the researcher to

critically connect her ‘personal story’ (Bochner & Ellis, 2003) to ‘other stories’—the rich

narratives of her respondents. In doing so, the researcher undergoes a ‘reflective process on the

self’ (Guba & Lincoln, 1981; 2005) in which she recognises and expresses her multiple identities

that represent her fluid ‘self’ (Alcoff & Potter, 1993). This only shows that ethnography is a

“narrative account of a quest, discovery and interpretation—the journey from outsider to

insider—using story conventions to persuade readers effectively” (Atkinson, 1990 &

Polkinghorne, 2007 in Cortazzi, 2001, p. 389). Afterall, “ethnographic research itself is a story”

(Cortazzi, 2001, p. 389). As Mishler (1995) aptly puts it, “ethnographers make stories” and they

(co)construct meanings in interpreting their stories and of others (in Cortazzi, 2001, p. 389). This

research as an ethnographic study, therefore, is created through the construction and analyses of

many stories and conversations, and any story and conversation may well begin with introducing

oneself as the primary author.

Starting the conversations and telling of stor(ies)

In starting the ‘conversation’ in this thesis, I begin with my story where I introduce myself as a

Filipino ‘teacher researcher’ who conducted an ethnographic study to inquire into the student

and teacher perceptions of good teaching beyond the dichotomized views between learner-

centered and teacher-centered pedagogies which are prevalent under the K to 12 education

reform in the Philippines. I was a visiting observer-researcher, rather than a practising teacher

when collecting data in these two settings. Much of my interest in public school education sprung

from my experiences as a public-school student, a part-time volunteer literacy teacher in a rural

public school, and full-time lecturer in a teacher-training university in the Philippines. In sharing

these experiences (in the subsequent chapters), I tell my story through literary narratives

alongside ‘other stories’, which are less literary in tone as they are presented in this thesis as

related studies to initiate a ‘conversation’ about the key ideas and debates around the presumed

notions about learner-centered teaching and ‘teacher-centered’ instruction. In narrating my

story, I write in the first person to illustrate ‘a scenario’ that does not only represent my reality

but also ‘the scenario’ that triggered a sense curiosity and allowed me to reflect on ‘what is it that

teachers do in public schools in my country that make students still want to come to school

despite their extremely challenging conditions in school and at home?’ With such interest and the

8

recent curriculum reform in the Philippines, it became clear to me, as a teacher who seeks to

understand the implications of this reform in the classroom, that this question can be explored

further through critical reflection required in research. Hence, in telling the ‘other stories’

alongside my story, I write also in the first person but with an academic voice to signal that it is

the teacher researcher who speaks, seeking to locate my study within a broader landscape of

research in pedagogy.

In the next section, I open a story of a century-old Philippine education. In briefly

(re)telling this story, I seek to provide the context of the Filipino system of education for readers

to have a further background on both the research setting and research problem. Most

importantly, this story walks the readers through why the Philippines took the radical shift to K

to 12 curriculum and mandated a learner-centered education.

Shifting sands of Philippine education reforms

The K to 12 curriculum policy is not the first of education reforms in the Philippines. The century-

old Philippine education system has undergone what Filipino educationists call as, ‘successive

waves of changes and reforms’ (Bago, 2008; Bautista, Bernardo, & Ocampo, 2009; Caoli-

Rodriguez, 2007; de Guzman, 2003; and Luz, 2006). From 1500s to early

1900s, the indoctrination of the Spaniard friars and missionaries was successful in propagating

Catholicism among the natives in the archipelago. The Spanish language was the medium of

instruction and education was mainly for boys. Spanish education has played a major role in the

Philippine education as the oldest schools, universities, and the rudimentary structures of a

public school system were established during the Spanish colonization.

After three centuries under Spanish rule, the Philippine education system took

a dramatic turn in the 20th century. In 1901, the Thomasites, American teachers named after the

US troop carrier, USS Thomas, laid down the foundation of a democratic system of education.

"With the basic education system and curriculum patterned after the American model, English

became the medium of instruction, and democratic ideals were introduced into the curriculum

for the first time" (Act No. 74, 1901 cited in Adarlo & Jackson, 2017, p. 210). With English as the

medium of instruction in Philippine schools, the American influence on Filipino education led to

the Philippines becoming the third largest English-speaking nation in the world (de Guzman,

2003). This American influence in the Philippines has also opened the doors for Filipino women

and facilitated the ‘education for all’ through a more formalized and democratic public school

system.

9

Another change came at the end of the Second World War when the Philippine education

reverted to a more autocratic approach to teaching during the period of Japanese occupation.

The three-year exposure to Japanese education pushed the Philippines to return to its Asian

roots, wherein themes on promoting and enriching local culture were infused into

the instruction. Western influences on education were restricted when the use of English

language was prohibited and this required the adoption of both Filipino and Niponggo as

mediums of instruction (Bago, 2008). However, by the turn of the twentieth century (until today)

"the Philippine education system (and society) remains reminiscent of its colonial history, first

under Spain then under the United States of America” (Adarlo & Jackson, 2017, p. 210).

After its liberation from colonization in 1946, the Republic of the Philippines instituted

several education reforms as part of its national agenda. These changes in schooling structure,

curricula, and pedagogical approaches in the country are well-documented in several key studies

on Philippine education and policy (Adarlo & Jackson, 2017; Bago, 2008; Bautista, Bernardo, &

Ocampo, 2009; Caoli-Rodriguez, 2007; de Guzman, 2003; 2004; and Luz, 2006). These

studies have traced comprehensively the dynamics of educational reforms throughout Philippine

history. From the 1990s to the early 2000s, reforms in the Philippine education system gained

momentum. Eventually, a series of ‘reform packages’ were aggressively lobbied and instituted to

address the issues raised in the Monroe Survey, the first comprehensive national assessment of

Filipino education conducted in 1925 and was regarded to have the “severest criticism of the

Philippine education system” (Bautista, Bernardo, and Ocampo, 2009, p. 7). The target of criticism

was the excessively centralized control of the Philippine education system and the lack of

initiative of various branches in the then ministry of education in promoting national reform

programs (Bernardo & Garcia, 2006). Almost a century later, the Philippine education arguably

still faces the same issues raised in the controversial Monroe Survey despite its long history of

reforms (Bautista, Bernardo, & Ocampo, 2009).

The Philippines sets sail for global education

Whilst its public school system is ‘in crisis’ (Luz, 2006), the Philippine education also remains to

be largely ‘traditional’ and ‘teacher-centered’ (de Mesa & de Guzman, 2006). In the 2009 review

When Reforms don't Transform, it is noted that the strong pedagogical decisions of teachers

towards traditional forms of teaching could be accounted to the ‘dismal state of Philippine public

schools’ which suffer from the intractable issues of excessive centralization of education, long-

standing under-investment in public schools, congested curriculum, teacher accountability,

10

irrelevant teaching and learning resources, and shortages of classrooms and textbooks (Bautista,

Bernardo, & Ocampo, 2009). Similar issues are raised by the former undersecretary of Education,

Juan Miguel Luz, in his 2006 commentary Why Filipino Kids are not Learning, which emphasised

that the worsening conditions of Philippine public schools further underpin the students' poor

academic achievement, especially in high-stakes tests. This is evidenced, as Luz (2006) notes, in

the country's poor performance in the 1999 and 2003 Trends International Mathematics and

Science Study (TIMSS), scoring significantly below international average (Martin, Mullis,

Gonzalez, & Chrostowski, 2004; Luz, 2006). In addition, Filipino students fared unsatisfactorily in

national assessment tests (Philippine Department of Education DepEd, 2013).

The circulated reports on the underachievement of Filipino students in both international

and national testing have become one of the major impetus for the latest K to 12 reform and the

underlying mandate for a learner-centered education. Policymakers point to the former ten-year

basic education curriculum as one of the leading causes of poor performance of Filipino students

in standardized tests (Senate Economic Planning Office, 2011; Adarlo & Jackson, 2017). Short of

two years in basic education, the Philippines, as how the policymakers and reformers view it, is

placed at a further disadvantage in providing its students sufficient time to acquire the learning

competencies that will make them ‘holistically developed Filipinos with twenty-first century

skills’ (SEAMEO-INNOTECH, 2012; Okabe, 2013). Robin Alexander (2012) is particularly critical

of how policymakers view TIMSS results as a ground for “reconfiguring [the] entire national

curricula to respond less to national culture, values and needs than to the dubious claims of

‘international benchmarking’ and ‘world class’ educational standards—the latter equated with

test scores in a limited spectrum of human learning” (p. 4). Such mindset in promoting reforms,

as Alexander (2012) further argues, may only provide a ‘quick fix’ to the problems in education

and even inappropriately copy other national policies which could only deter the country in

achieving genuine transformation of the quality and outcomes of its students' learning.

Student underachievement is not the only driving force behind the K to 12 education

reform policy in the Philippines. Prior to its latest curriculum reform, the Philippines remained

one of the last three of the 193 members of UNESCO with a ten-year pre-university education

(UNESCO, 2011 in Crow & O’Donoghue 2013). The shift to a K to 12 curriculum became far more

urgent when the Philippines, in the 2008 report of Caoli-Rodriguez, fell short of attaining the 2015

Education for All (EFA) Goals, a global movement of UNESCO since the turn of twenty-first

century which promotes quality education, social equity, and poverty alleviation. This shows how

the K to 12 education reform policy becomes the Philippine government’s response to the strong

pressures to transition to a more global structure of schooling and the international comparisons

11

of ‘quality’ education. Thus, through its K to 12 education reform, the Philippines aspires to

achieve “quality education that is globally competitive based on a pedagogically sound curriculum

that is on par with international standards” (RA No. 10533, 2013, p. 2). To achieve this, the

country mandated a “learner-centered curriculum” in 2013 and since then has prepared its more

than 400,000 public school teachers “to use pedagogical approaches that are constructivist,

inquiry-based, reflective, collaborative and integrative” (RA No. 10533, 2013, p. 4). This shows

that the Philippines is committed in its reform towards global education through a learner-

centered curriculum.

The radical policy shift to learner-centered education in the Philippines implies that

adopting learner-centered pedagogies is perceived as a remedy for the current state of its public

schools. This is not far from Schweisfurth’s (2013) observation that in most developing countries,

learner-centered education is carried forth from a wave of global pressures which cascaded down

to inform national reform policies. As a traveling global policy for education reform, learner-

centered education, as Schweisfurth (2013; 2015) argues, becomes a ‘global prescription’ for

improvements to teaching and learning. Its ameliorative potential is even regarded as a ‘panacea’

for education, particularly in developing countries (Sriprakash, 2010). These countries are

further placed under pressure to implement learner-centered education as it becomes a policy

discourse given the complex narrative within the history of aid that it carries. This aid which

Schweisfurth (2013) refers to includes the international donors and external agencies which are

part of a wider political agenda as they push for learner-centered implementation in developing

countries under aid agreements and pressures. Learner-centered education has therefore

become a palatable agendum across policy makers who lobby for national education reforms and

seek to upgrade the schooling systems under the pressure of global imperatives.

The shift to learner-centered education under the Philippine reform policy however faces

serious challenges in curriculum and pedagogy. Such challenges are pointed out in the next

section as I provide a brief discussion of the critical issues raised by theorists of place-based

education on how learner-centered education, as a global reform policy, could potentially dilute

a country’s sense of local identity as it seeks national reform in education. Most importantly, the

next section frames my entry to the study and prepares the ground to consider pedagogical

reforms within a critical consideration of the contextual issues that may influence the

acceptability as well as the implementation of learner-centered education policy in the

Philippines. Before proceeding to the next section, it is important to note that learner-centered

education, as used in this study, refers to a teaching paradigm developed in 1993 by the American

Psychological Association Presidential Task Force on Psychology in Education in collaboration

12

with the Mid-Continent Regional Educational Laboratory (McREL), which was used as a

framework for the education reform in the United States and has been widely disseminated to

educators and researchers across America and abroad through the works of Barbara L. McCombs

and colleagues (McCombs & Whisler, 1997; Lambert & McCombs, 1998; McCombs & Quiat, 2002;

McCombs, 2003; McCombs & Miller, 2007). Policy and discussion papers which circulated during

the deliberation of the K to 12 reform in the Philippine Congress stated that the recommended

learner-centered pedagogical approaches (i.e. cooperative learning, self-regulated learning,

differentiated instruction, problem- and project-based learning) are anchored on this framework

of learner-centererd teaching as proposed by educational theorists (i.e. B. L. McCombs; C. A.

Tomlinson), expanded by other educators, and validated by practitioners (see SEAMEO-

INNOTECH, 2012, p. 44; Policy Brief of the Philippine Senate Economic Office, 2011).

Swept along the strong current of global learner-centered education reforms

The Philippines is not alone in its reform toward learner-centered education. It is but one of many

developing countries within the international education community where there is, as Anderson-

Levitt (2003) observes, a “prevalence of reforms couched in the rhetoric of learner-centered

pedagogy, student participation, or democracy in the classroom” (p. 11). Within the past forty

years, there has been a growing body of research on learner-centered education which focuses

on non-Western countries in the height of their education reforms. For instance, Schweisfurth

(2011) found a sizeable body of research conducted from 1981 to 2010 which focused on learner-

centered education in developing countries, 72 of these studies are published in the International

Journal for Education. Similarly, Kennedy (2013) observes a pervasiveness of education reforms

in the past twenty years towards a more democratic and ‘learner-centered’ curriculum in Asia,

particularly among Southeast Asian countries. With such prevalence of ‘learner-centered’

reforms especially in developing countries, learner-centered education becomes

a global phenomenon, enshrined in international agreement, promoted by international agencies and powerful at supranational level. Educationists are increasingly concerned with how ideas and policy move around the world, in the context of globalization (Schweisfurth 2013, p. 18).

As more and more countries adopt learner-centered education as part of their curriculum reform

agenda, modern structures of schooling and even pedagogies arguably become increasingly

similar. This isomorphism in education, as world culture theorists call it, or the homogeneity

across countries’ various elements of education systems (i.e. curriculum, pedagogy, assessment,

teacher autonomy, etc.) suggests how all cultures are slowly converging towards a uniform global

structure of schooling similar to the Western concept of modern schooling (Ramirez & Ventresca,

1992). This diffusion of a homogenous Western global model of education implies that the flow of

13

‘best’ educational practices moves from the West to the East (Anderson-Levitt, 2003; Spring,

2015). It is in this premise of world culture theory that raises questions of power and hegemonic

controversies especially that behind this isomorphism is a mechanism of change fueled by

‘imitation’ (Anderson-Levitt, 2003) as countries gear towards a global Western model of

education. Learner-centered education as a global education policy is riddled with similar issues

of power given its prescriptions for a ‘paradigm shift’ (see McCombs and Whisler, 1997; McCombs,

2003) alongside a proposed model of teaching for countries to benchmark against their education

reforms. Kathryn Anderson-Levitt (2003) argues that this form of ‘mimicry’ could pose serious

threats to a country’s sense of identity as it seeks national reform in education. The Philippines,

as Renato Constantino, a Filipino historian, maintains, must be alert to such forms of mimicry.

With Filipinos’ proclivity to “imitate Western education” (Constantino, 1970, p. 27), a notion

where ‘good teaching’ is limited to Western models of learner-centered teaching could risk losing

local pedagogies which were potentially evolved to address what Filipino students need most to

support their learning. Oblivious to such risk, the Philippines could therefore run against its

national aims for its “schools to localize, indigenize and enhance the same based on their

respective educational and social contexts” (Republic Act 10533, 2013, p. 2). Most importantly, as

the Philippine education seeks to become more ‘global’, its pedagogies could lose touch with the

actual needs, priorities, and aspirations of its Filipino students.

In her book, Local Meanings, Global Schooling, Anderson-Levitt (2003) discusses the ways

in which local meanings and values within a school system could get lost as a country mimics the

global structures of schooling and patterns its pedagogical practices from prescribed international

models as part of its education reform. Freire’s Pedagogy of the Oppressed has long reminded

educationists of the dangers of this mimicry of dominant Western models. Freire (1968/1995)

cautions about how Western models are perceived as superior to local structures of schooling.

Such perception, as Freire (2007) emphasised, can become a threat to local ways of teaching and

learning where values held within are dismissed, if not, ignored until nations become “alienated

from the spirit of their own culture” (p. 153). Thus, as a country’s structure of schooling and

instruction framework becomes more global, it could run the risk of compromising its national

ideals and local values. This is why Freire (1995) strongly argues against education reforms which

are highly dependent on modern directions influenced by dominant external forces. He holds that

for actual change or ‘true reform’ to occur, the initiative to change must come from within the

society, or from the place itself. Transformation for Freire (1995) therefore requires nations to

reflect on their own situationality and “find themselves rooted in temporal-spatial conditions

which mark them and which they also mark” (p. 90). It is in the emphasis on the ‘local’ as a

prerequisite to true education reforms that Freire’s situationality and place-based education

14

theory meet. Sharing Freire’s advocacy for ‘true reform’, place-based education promotes

pedagogies that seek to (re)connect students to the ‘local’— or to their sense of place.

A sense of place however is being challenged by the current movement of ‘external’

Western cultural ideas and the spread of a homogenized global system. This is the notion held

within Tim Creswell’s (2015) Theory of Place which claims that schooling structures and

education processes must preserve those which define a nation’s culture and identity. Cresswell

(2015) argues against dominant cultural structures that dilute the authenticity of local values as

these could radically thin out the sense of locality and identity of a place and detach it from its

long-held values and traditions. Once detached from its local identity, a nation—a place—is also

removed from the true reform it seeks to achieve (Cresswell, 2015). Thus, should a nation move

towards a more globalized structure of schooling as part of its reform, it needs to critically reflect

on how external dominant forces shape its local places and pedagogies. To do this, it needs to ask

two important questions; first, what needs to be transformed; and second, what needs to be

conserved. These two questions represent the two essential concepts of David Gruenewald’s

(2003) Critical Pedagogy of the Place—decolonization and reinhabitation, respectively.

Decolonization suggests “unlearning much of what dominant culture and schooling teaches”

(Gruenewald, 2003, p. 9) while reinhabitation requires ‘relearning and preserving’ those local

cultural patterns which teach us how to live well in places but have been disrupted or dismissed

in the age of globalization. What one chooses to unlearn or to relearn however will depend largely

on one’s situationality or one’s empathetic connection for a place, that intense connection to the

familiar, to one’s roots, or in Smith and Sobel (2010) words— ‘love’ for the place because “human

beings protect and preserve what they love; if they don’t know something, they don’t attend to it”

(p. 47). For ‘true reform’ in education to be attainable, pedagogies must “reclaim the heart” (Sobel,

1996 cited in Gruenewald, 2003, p. 7). To reclaim the heart, schools should create experiences for

students to care for their places. In this way, the students as the youth (and hope) of the nation

can identify what needs to be transformed and what needs to be conserved for their country

(Gruenewald, 2003). It is in this framework of change that theorists of place-based education

believe that ‘true’ education reform can be achieved.

This framing of learner-centered education as a global reform phenomenon, as I discussed

so far, foregrounds two major issues. The first raises an important question on education

reform—does true education reform happen following the influence of global policies or from the

grassroot level of classrooms and schools? Perhaps, Anderson-Levitt (2003) has a better way of

raising the question:

15

Are educational reformers better advised to lobby World Bank and UNESCO policy, or to work directly with teachers in local school? Can local educators hope to change local schools to suit local needs, or are they bound by a global model that they may or may not see? (p. 2) In practical terms, the question boils down to asking where the action is. Does true school reform happen at the level of global and national policies, or does real change happen in the level of classroom and schools? (p. 3)

These questions are important points for critical reflection among policymakers and ‘teacher

researchers’ in the Philippines as the reform policy has serious implications for its local ways of

teaching and learning. The country therefore faces critical issues on the politics of pedagogy,

especially that its policy advocates for the shift to learner-centered approaches in teaching in its

attempt in making its forms of instruction “on par with international standards” (Republic Act

10533, 2013, p. 2). This then presents the second and more relevant issue within the context of

my thesis; that is, the tension between the global and the local, suggesting that as a traveling global

policy, learner-centered education appears to antagonize local ways of understanding teaching

and learning. This global-local debate reveals critical issues of contextual realities as the global

learner-centered education is implemented from one country to another, coursing through as a

national reform policy. In the next chapter, these contextual realities that impede the

implementation of learner-centered education in developing countries particularly in the

Southeast Asian region are discussed. I use this discussion to raise the possibility that issues of

culture pose a subtle yet concrete barrier in the implementation of learner-centered education in

Southeast Asian classrooms.

This section has so far presented the global and local tensions surrounding learner-

centered education as a traveling reform policy, particularly surrounding the question—What is

valued as good teaching? This enquiry is furthered throughout the chapters of this thesis, which

I briefly outline in the next section.

Outline of the chapters

The following two chapters engage with the literature within which I have situated my research

questions. Chapter Two discusses the contextual realities that impede the practice of learner-

centered education in developing countries, particularly in Southeast Asia. This section opens the

debates surrounding learner-centered education (as a teaching framework) and teacher-

centered instruction (as a traditional practice). In this discussion I present both economic and

cultural issues raised within recent studies on learner-centered education. Whilst engaging with

the problematic nature of implementation of learner-centered education across cultural contexts,

16

I foreshadow the need to revisit definitions, particularly those that hold to a distinct binary

between learner-centered and teacher-centered practices. This chapter also traces how learner-

centered education evolved to become a focus in global education policy. I review the early wave

of studies on learner-centered education reporting its effectiveness as a teaching framework and

outlining the practices they promote as effective in increasing student engagement and

achievement. Within this discussion, I examine the degree to which the original concept of

‘learner-centered’ is retained as this instructional approach is ‘appropriated’ in various contexts.

Chapter Three focuses on ‘teacher-centered’ instruction, which complements the

‘revisiting of definitions’ that has started in Chapter Two on learner-centered education and its

provenance. This chapter takes us back to where a mode of teaching, that which learner-centered

education has been placed against, first came to be before its negative label as ‘teacher-centered’

instruction. This chapter traces the origins of teacher-centered instruction and revisits its

traditions, theories, and research-based methods and practices. In tracing those approaches and

methods of teaching which have been categorized as ‘teacher-centered’, I examine how these are

described in literature promoting learner-centered teaching. I discuss the criticisms raised by the

proponents of learner-centered education against ‘teacher-centered instruction’ and the way

these perspectives generated misinterpretations about direct instruction and its methods of

teaching. I use this discussion to argue that revisiting both the roots of learner-centered teaching

and teacher-centered instruction provide a more informed and holistic ground for reflection and

re-examination of ‘good teaching’ within the existing dichotomy between these two modes of

teaching.

In Chapter Four, I discuss the research design and methodology that were used to

investigate the research questions and the methods used to collect and analyse the data in this

study. I also outline the ethical considerations in collecting the data and reporting the findings. In

this methodology chapter, I also provide brief background information and a short profile

description of the two schools in this study. A more elaborate description of the schools and the

communities they are located in, is provided in the subsequent five data chapters not only to help

contextualise the study, but also to create a sense of immediacy in presenting the findings.

Chapters Five to Nine discuss the findings. Chapter Five tells a story of four teachers. The

first is a mathematics teacher whom I observed to use teacher-centered instructional methods

but who exhibited strong academic support and care for her students. While I did not find this

teacher’s instructional methods to be practices of ‘good teaching’, her students identified her as

‘the good teacher’. The second teacher is a Tagalog Language and Literature teacher whom I

17

perceived as the ‘good teacher’ given her use of learner-centered strategies which provide

opportunities for developing students’ critical thinking skills and promoting student-teacher

relationships. Her students however showed indifference to this teachers’ classroom practices

and acts of personal care. The last two teachers are Science teachers who practised a creative

teaching strategy which they refer to as ‘groupings’, a form of cooperative learning in the urban

school. Using the lens of relationship and academic care, I examine the contested issues of ‘teacher

accountability’ and ‘responsibility’ as raised in Weimer’s (2002) learner-centered teaching and

Noddings’s (2013) ethic of care. I use this discussion to argue that teacher-centered methods are

perceived by the teachers and students within this context of the urban school as practices of

‘good teaching’ because they directly address these urban students’ needs and priorities in

education—to achieve academically so they can improve the life circumstances of their families.

Chapter Six explores why the students in the urban class perceive their mathematics

teacher’s teacher-centered instructional practices to be a practice of ‘good teaching’ while

disregarding their Tagalog teacher’s learner-centered classroom practices. In this chapter, I

demonstrate how ‘getting good grades’ becomes these students’ priority whilst in school. In

exploring their conceptions towards ‘grades’, I identified several representations of ‘good grades’

for these students. These are (1) a statement of meeting the expectations of the school

community; (2) a gesture of honoring their parents; and (3) an expression of willingness to help

their parents give their family a better life. I use this discussion to argue that the expectations a

local community has towards its youth can shape how these students in this urban school

perceive ‘good teaching’.

Chapters Seven and Eight tell two stories of two different teachers of one rural class. The

focus of Chapter Seven is an English teacher whose teaching practices are predominantly teacher-

centered but was identified by the rural students as ‘the good teacher’. In this chapter, I discuss

the way in which this rural teacher maintains her ‘authority’ while she fosters caring personal

relationships with her students and their families through ‘home visits’, a common teacher

practice amongst all rural teachers in this study. I use this discussion to examine the contested

issue of the role of teachers as ‘figures of authority’ using Weimer’s (2002) notion of balance of

power in learner-centered classrooms and Schweisfurth’s (2013) notion that student

engagement varies based on cultural expectations of education and respect for teachers.

Chapter Eight tells the story of another rural teacher, a Social Studies teacher, whom I

perceived as the ‘good teacher’ but her students perceived otherwise. In this chapter, I discuss

the way in which this teacher puts her ‘authority’ aside as she provides her students with

18

opportunities to see the relevance of rural life to their schooling using learner-centered teaching

strategies. In my analyses of this teachers’ pedagogical practices, I draw upon the works of Smith

and Sobel (2010) on their Place-based Education to understand this teacher’s intent behind her

teaching strategy, ‘localising’, which she uses to (re)connect her students to their rural

community. I discuss the concepts of reinhabitation and decolonization under David

Gruenewald’s (2003) Critical Pedagogy of the Place to examine how this teacher’s pedagogical

decisions are shaped by what is needed and valued within the village, particularly on how ‘work’

is viewed in the rural community.

Chapter Nine explores the rural students’ perception of ‘good teaching’ towards their

English teacher’s use of teacher-centered practices, particularly those which maintain the role of

the teacher as a classroom authority. I examine the value that these students place on their

English teacher’s ability to effectively manage student misbehaviors without being punitive. I

consider how classroom discipline and academic care both become essential elements of these

students’ perception of good teaching. I use this discussion to highlight why these students did

not identify their social studies teacher’s practices as ‘good teaching’. In my analysis of the rural

students’ perceptions of good teaching, I consider how Conde’s (2006) and Ramos’s (2008)

notions of kaabay (neighbour) give context to these students’ stories of malasakit (a deep sense

of personal and compassionate care) from their ‘strict but good’ teachers whom they regard as

their companions in times of difficulties in the rural community.

Chapter Ten synthesizes the key findings of this study and invites a rethinking of the

dichotomy between ‘learner-centered’ teaching and ‘teacher-centered’ instruction. This

concluding chapter also revisits how learner-centered teaching and teacher-centered instruction

are defined in literature for a conceptual reframing of ‘good teaching’ based on the findings in this

study. This chapter discusses some of the implications that an understanding of a pedagogy

through a cultural lens can have for educational policies and practice. I conclude with some

reflections that it is through a Filipino valuing of malasakit (a deep sense of personal and

compassionate care) and of pakikisama (maintaining smooth interpersonal relationships within

a community) as manifested through caring student-teacher relationships that a new orientation

towards learner-centered education could be articulated for the Filipino context.

Summary

In this introduction, I have provided a brief summary of this thesis. Apart from presenting the

research aim, questions, and gaps, this chapter also provides a brief (hi)story of the Philippine

education system. I use this discussion to provide readers a background of the research setting

19

and to highlight the Philippines’s goal of improving its public school education to meet

international standards of ‘quality’ education. This chapter has also located learner-centered

education as a global education reform policy. In this framing discussion, I have outlined the

assumptions made about how local identities and traditional values within a culture could be at

risk of being dismissed, if not, ignored as a country seeks national reforms under global pressures

and directives. I have also presented the issues raised by theorists of place-based education and

scholars in comparative education on how learner-centered education as a global reform policy

can be a threat to the local ways of understanding teaching and learning as developing countries

mimic the global structures of schooling and ‘scripts’ of pedagogy prescribed as ‘best’ by

dominant external agencies. Most importantly, this chapter prepares the ground for a more

critical review of the contextual issues that encumber the implementation of the global learner-

centered education policy in local classroom contexts in developing countries especially in the

Southeast Asian region. This begins in the following chapter, where I engage more deeply with

the conversations around notions about the dichotomy between learner-centered teaching and

‘teacher-centered’ instruction.

20

C H A P T E R T W O

On the high seas: A rough sail for Learner-centered education as a traveling global policy

Introduction

This chapter reviews literature on learner-centered education as a global education reform policy,

a teaching framework, and a classroom pedagogy. It is organized into two main sections, as follows.

The first section focuses on the debates surrounding learner-centered education (as a teaching

framework) and teacher-centered instruction (as a traditional practice). This section discusses

the contextual issues that have been found to encumber the implementation of the global learner-

centered education policy in classroom contexts in developing countries, particularly in

Southeast Asia. In this discussion, I explore both economic and cultural issues that impact on the

adoption of learner-centered approaches in these contexts. I highlight the importance of context

as raised in these studies, noting that cultural rather than economic issues have been found to be

concrete impediments to the implementation of learner-centered education in today’s

classrooms in developing countries. I use this discussion to raise the possibility that issues of

culture pose a subtle yet real obstacle in the implementation of learner-centered instructional

practices in Southeast Asian classrooms. Whilst engaging with the problematic nature of

implementation of learner-centered education across cultural contexts, I foreshadow the need to

revisit definitions, particularly those that hold to a distinct binary between learner-centered and

teacher-centered practices.

The second and last section of this chapter seeks to trace how learner-centered education evolved

to become a focus in global education policy. I review the early wave of studies on learner-

centered education reporting its effectiveness as a teaching framework and outline three main

practices they promote as effective in increasing student engagement and achievement. These

learner-centered practices include fostering relational care, demonstrating pedagogical caring,

and providing opportunities for cooperative learning. Within this discussion, I examine the

degree to which the original concept of ‘learner-centered’ is retained as this instructional

approach is ‘appropriated’ in various contexts.

21

One

The attractive (yet problematic) pull of the tidal learner-centered education

The implementation of learner-centered education in classrooms is not without challenges.

Contextual issues encumber the adoption of learner-centered education as a framework of

teaching in developing countries. Michele Schweisfurth (2011), in examining 72 research studies

that focus on learner-centered education in developing countries in the past two decades, reports

a remarkable consistency across this range of research which reports on the economic

constraints these countries experience in implementing learner-centered education in their

classrooms. Later, in her book, Learner-centered Education in International Perspective: Whose

Pedagogy for Whose Development?, Schweisfurth (2013) discussed more comprehensively how

these economic factors become concrete barriers to learner-centered education in poorer

developing countries. Economic impediments to learner-centered education are a critical issue

for developing countries. While it appears costless to implement, learner-centered education is,

as Schweisfurth (2013) puts it, a “richer-world phenomenon” (p. 48). This is because learner-

centered education requires activity-based strategies that demand the availability of varied

teaching and learning resources and access to relevant equipment and facilities. These resources

however are more likely available and accessible in developed countries, “from where most LCE

prescriptions for schooling originate” (Schweisfurth, 2013, p. 48), which then places learner-

centered education in its ivory tower as an ‘education for the elite’.

The findings in a qualitative study of Yilmaz (2008) can attest to Schweisfurth’s (2013)

claim that learner-centered education is a ‘richer-world phenomenon’. In interviewing rural

social studies teachers in a developing country, Yilmaz (2008) reports that the teachers, who have

positive attitudes towards learner-centered teaching, are often discouraged from using learner-

centered strategies given the poor physical conditions in their classrooms, large class sizes, and

lack of teaching materials and resources in their rural schools. These classroom realities, as the

teachers in Yilmaz’s study (2008) report, make their practice of learner-centered strategies (i.e.

group activities, ‘learning by doing’, and self-directed learning) challenging given that they are

also required to teach a specified amount of curricular content within a limited academic time.

Economic constraints are, as Yilmaz (2008) concludes, a significant constraint in implementing

learner-centered teaching in some classroom contexts.

22

Apart from economic factors, the rural teachers in Yilmaz’s study also reported another

factor that hinders them from practising learner-centered teaching; that is, “the culture of school

that teachers are expected to abide by or the traditions embedded in the school” (Yilmaz, 2008,

p. 46). For instance, one teacher in Yilmaz’s study disclosed that in his school, when a class is

orderly and quiet, it gives the impression that a teacher is still teaching (and not absent from his

class). So, when he uses learner-centered strategies such as group activities, for instance, which

usually generates noise from the students, his principal who randomly observes classes, might

perceive him as an ineffective teacher or assume that he is absent from class as his students are

noisy. In this case, the teacher expressed his dilemma between using learner-centered teaching

(that produces noise) and practising teacher-centered instruction (that maintains silence and

order in class). Another teacher in Yilmaz’s study raised that the conservative rural community

of her school has a significant impact on her students’ mentality and worldview. Thus, this teacher

finds it challenging to use learner-centered strategies such as group discussions because her

students who do not see multiple perspectives end up having disagreements thereby making the

class difficult to manage. This teacher further raised another issue in practising learner-centered

teaching. This issue arises from her students, being rural youth, wanting her to give them more

opportunities for experiential learning activities related to rural life. While this teacher

understands the request of her students, she expressed that she is limited to using more

traditional methods given the expectations from the rural community that she, as the teacher, has

to use the ‘school time’ in preparing her students for the state tests instead of using it in other

activities. The findings in the study of Yilmaz (2008) align with Schweisfurth’s (2013) notion that

despite having positive attitudes towards learner-centered teaching, teachers may have a

tendency to “retreat to traditional practices when confronted with classroom realities or

unsupportive management or inspection” (p. 67). It is therefore difficult not to notice that in a

number of studies on learner-centered education, there is a frequent mention of teacher-centered

instruction, especially when there are specific perceived constraints in implementing learner-

centered teaching.

Take for instance this separate study of Clegorne and Mitchell (2013) in which

observation and interview data of teachers show that the public school teachers “rejected

learner-centered pedagogy in favour of more direct teacher-centered instruction” (p. 1). To

understand the reason behind this, Clegorne and Mitchell (2013) conducted a daily informal

evaluation feedback from these teachers’ students. It turned out from these evaluation forms that

the students also preferred teacher-centered methods (i.e. direct instruction and lectures) over

learner-centered strategies (i.e. peer-oriented discussions). According to the students, they find

the learnings they get from lectures more valuable than those they get from peer discussions.

23

They reported that they favoured the opinion of their teachers only because they perceive their

teachers as a more credible source of knowledge as content experts than their peers. This

therefore explains why the students are not as engaged in their peer discussions as they are

during lectures because they valued the thoughts of their peers less. Seeing how more engaged

their students are in their lectures rather than in peer discussions, the teachers then prefer

practising teacher-centered instruction over learner-centered teaching. From this data, Clegorne

and Mitchell (2013) note that teachers’ pedagogical choice of teacher-centered teaching is

influenced by the degree to which their students place value on their role as content experts.

A similar approach where student evaluation of their teachers is used to understand why

learner-centered practices are less valued by students is also found in a Philippine-based study

of Magno and Sembrano (2007). In their extensive survey with 297 teaching faculty and 7,093

community college students, Magno and Sembrano (2007) found that a majority of learner-

centered practices used by Filipino teachers can be categorized into (1) building positive

interpersonal relationships with students; (2) encouraging students to take charge of their own

learning; (3) addressing students’ needs; and (4) monitoring students’ own learning process.

However, the findings in Magno and Sembrano’s (2007) study show that as far as student ratings

are concerned, it is not the explicit use of these learner-centered teaching practices of their

teachers that influenced them to score their teachers high in their teaching performance. Instead,

a teacher’s personality and efficacy counts more in effective teaching for Filipino students than

her use of learner-centered teaching practices. As their conclusion, Magno and Sembrano (2007)

put forward that “it is not merely the use of learner-centeredness in teaching that enables

teachers to perform better but more so his or her personality and efficacy. Learner-centeredness

is not working out as intended” (p. 85). A further investigation behind this finding and a deeper

exploration of student perceptions towards effective teaching however are the limitations of the

study of Magno and Sembrano (2007) given the quantitative nature of their research which did

not afford them opportunity to explore perceptions in depth.

The findings in Magno and Sembrano’s (2007) study which suggest that a Filipino

teacher’s personality counts more in effective teaching for Filipino students than her use of

learner-centered practices is further explored in a separate Philippine-based study of Bustos-

Orosa (2008). In this study, 272 Filipino teachers from elementary, high school, and college levels

were asked to respond to an open-ended questionnaire to examine their conceptions about good

teaching. Qualitative data in Bustos-Orosa’s (2008) study show that Filipino teachers’ perceptions

of good teaching involve positive dispositional traits such as caring and ensuring smooth

interpersonal relationships. These two desirable traits of a Filipino teacher may, as Bustos-Orosa

24

(2008) concludes, in essence, be embodied in a cultural concept called asal, which in popular

usage in the Philippines connotes ethical ways of acting and good character especially within

constructs of ‘good relations with others’. The teacher perceptions of good teaching are rooted in

cultural conceptions of a good person or ideal values (Bustos-Orosa, 2008). While Bustos-Orosa’s

(2008) study has explored cultural dimensions within perceptions of good teaching in the

Philippine context, such perceptions however are limited to teachers only. It would then be

important to explore student perceptions of teaching practices which they find helpful in their

learning.

On one hand, students’ perceptions of their teachers’ most engaging teaching practices

are the focus in a study of Wohlfarth, Sheras, Bennett, Simon, Pimentel, and Gabel (2008). In this

study based in the United States, students were asked at the start of the semester to assess their

teachers’ use of learner-centered practices such as (a) asking higher-order questions, (b)

facilitating interactive discussions of readings, (c) providing immediate feedback, and (d) giving

performance-based assessments. At the end of the semester, Wohlfarth, et al. (2008) examined

the students’ written reflections on the practices of their teachers which they find most and least

engaging. While the students have positive evaluation of their teachers’ learner-centered

practices, Wohlfarth, et al. (2008) report that the students expressed some frustrations with their

teachers’ learner-centered teaching. According to these students, their frustrations arise from

their desire for more content structure as well as more teacher control to assist them in learning.

This structure and teacher control are, as perceived by the students, provided in teacher-centered

teaching. From this point of view of students, Wohlfarth, et al. (2008) conclude that “the optimal

method to encourage their learning was a blend of traditional teaching and more learner-

centered concepts” (p. 73).

A combination rather than a replacement of teacher-centered with learner-centered

practices appears a common finding among recent studies in Southeast Asia. For instance, in a

design-based research study of Pham (2016) among 100 students and two teachers in Vietnam,

it was found that several cultural elements hindered a full implementation of learner-centered

teaching in the country. Among these cultural elements, as Pham (2016) outlined, are the

Vietnamese parents’ expectations towards their children performing well in tests and the

students’ high regard to their teachers as authorities of knowledge. Pham (2016) noted that the

teachers and students in Vietnam are hesitant of teaching strategies that are not closely aligned

with examinations. However, when Pham (2016) introduced to their students the learner-

centered strategies like collaborative inquiry and problem-solving activities, the teachers become

more open to practise learner-centered teaching when they saw the higher-order knowledge

25

gains for their students. Later, when it was the teachers’ turn to use the learner-centered

strategies, the teachers expressed their concern about the test-driven culture in the Vietnamese

schools which requires them to still rely on their teacher-centered methods to meet the

expectations of their students’ parents. With this, the teachers find it more effective to combine

the learner-centered strategies that were introduced to them by Pham (2016) and the lecture

method that they have long been practising. This hybrid teaching approach, as Pham (2016)

concludes, helped the Vietnamese students enhance their complex knowledge without

compromising their test outcomes.

A similar conclusion is drawn from the qualitative data of Tyrosvoutis’s (2016) mixed

method survey of 19 students from Myanmar who were studying Education as a course at a

university in Thailand. Using web-based survey questionnaires, Tyrosvoutis (2016) examined the

students’ perceptions of teacher practices they experienced when they were in high school in

either refugee camps located in the Thai-Myanmar border or government and ethnic schools in

Myanmar. The qualitative data in this study suggest that students perceive learning from both

teacher-centered methods such as ‘whole-class teaching’ and learner-centered activities like

‘group work’, debates, and student presentation. However, the students in Tyrosvoutis’s (2016)

study identified two major challenges in their teacher’s use of learner-centered practices apart

from the ‘low resources in the classroom’. The first challenge is the strong pressure to score high

in the rote memorization-based ‘matriculation test’ or University Entrance Examination, which

then compels the teachers to use traditional direct instruction to assist student memorization.

Should the students fail, the teacher is held accountable and would risk ‘losing face in public’. This

‘loss of face’ presents the second challenge to learner-centered teaching. The students reported

that their teachers need to establish their ‘infallible authority’ as content experts and maintain

power-distance from their students to meet the expectations in their community. Given the

cultural dimension of how teachers are perceived in schools in Thai-Myanmar border, it therefore

becomes difficult, Tyrosvoutis (2016) noted, to suggest that this ‘historic tight control’ of teachers

as authorities must be relinquished as schools transition to a learner-centered education as part

of their reform agenda. Seeing both the value of learner-centered and teacher-centered practices

in these cultural contexts, Tyrosvoutis (2016) recommends that education reform efforts must

also strengthen the long-established whole-class teaching methods while promoting learner-

centered teaching. This way, as Tyrosvoutis (2016) concludes, the “reconciliation of traditional

methods would allow for the benefits of learner-centered education be operationalized in

practical ways using methods local teachers already practice” (p. 128).

26

A blend of teacher-centered and learner-centered practices is also reported as the

preferred approach in teaching among Cambodian teachers in a mixed methods study of Song

(2015). From the 379 primary school teachers whom Song (2015) surveyed, 30 were randomly

selected for interviews to explore their teaching beliefs in line with learner-centered teaching.

Initially, the teachers expressed positive views towards learner-centered teaching which for them

is helpful in developing higher-order thinking skills among their students. However, further along

their interviews, Song (2015) noted, the teachers reported that they are often discouraged in

practising learner-centered teaching because the majority of their students do not yet

demonstrate the level of competence required under learner-centered teaching. The teachers also

disclosed that, while their education is under a learner-centered reform, the scarcity of teaching

resources in their schools coupled with the tight content-driven curriculum make the actual

practice of learner-centered teaching in their classrooms far more challenging. Drawing from

these teacher data, Song (2015) concludes that teachers in Cambodia do not simply assimilate

and respond to new forms of pedagogies that would require them to alter their conventional ways

of teaching. In a critique on the education policies in Cambodia, Tan (2010) states that achieving

reform will be extremely challenging for the country. This is because Cambodia, as Tan (2010)

noted, still struggles with fundamental issues in education such as equitable access, quality

assurance, and capacity building for decentralization. Given this situation in Cambodia’s current

education system, Tan (2010) agrees with the suggestion raised in an earlier study of Ayres

(2000) on Cambodian education—that the country needs to temper its expansion of a

Westernized education system and focus instead on addressing the needs of its rural schools.

To achieve the reform that Cambodia seeks to attain, Tan (2010) further recommends for

a ‘gelling’ or the combining of foreign and indigenous knowledge to create new ideas and

practices in education that are appropriate to the specific needs of the country. This ‘gelling’

which Tan suggests (2010) has already taken effect in Singapore. In her separate commentary,

Tan (2016) discussed the ways in which Asian countries (of Confucian heritage, i.e. China, Japan,

Korea, Vietnam, Hong Kong, Taiwan, and Singapore) particularly those with colonial histories

could benefit from this ‘gelling’ of global and local sources of knowledge. In most of these cultures,

the implementation of learner-centered education is a challenge given a common perception that

a learner-centered way of teaching dilutes academic rigour which is valued in these cultural

contexts. It is also perceived in these countries that learner-centered education does not provide

a strong foundational knowledge for students (Tan, 2016). With these cultural perceptions that

pose challenges in implementing learner-centered education in this region, Tan (2010; 2016)

suggests that, in line with her recommendation for ‘gelling’, Asian philosophies (e.g.

Confucianism) be explored so as to identify their shared principles with Western philosophies in

27

education such as Dewey’s, in which the framework of learner-centered education is grounded

on.

A similar suggestion is given by Tan (2010) for Islamic schools in Asia where the learner-

centered strategies such as dialogue, disputation, and problem-solving have long been advocated

and practised since medieval times as part of the Islamic tradition. In this case, the ‘gelling’, which

Tan (2010) suggests, could facilitate the implementation of learner-centered strategies in Islamic

schools such as in the case of Indonesia, where there is an increasing number of madrasah and

sekolah Islam (Islamic schools) that have already incorporated learner-centered pedagogies (Tan,

2014). ‘Gelling’ is slowly adopted through Indonesia’s subscription to an educative tradition,

where the country sees compatibility between the inculcation of Islamic values and acquisition of

global knowledge (Tan, 2014). The implementation of learner-centered education in Indonesia

however is not without challenges, especially that the Western underpinnings of learner-

centered pedagogies might, as Tan (2014) raised, be perceived un-Islamic as these could radically

thin out the religious and cultural heritage of the ummah (Muslim community). A similar

challenge is faced among Islamic schools in Malaysia where, as Hashim (2007) observes, its

students even in higher education are compelled to memorize religious texts and are often not

encouraged to question or challenge ideas. However, over the past few years, the Islamic schools

in Asia, particularly in Indonesia and Malaysia, have incorporated more learner-centered

pedagogies into their more established traditional methods of teaching (Tan and Abbas, 2009).

This then becomes reflective not only of both states’ educative tradition but also of Tan’s (2010)

‘gelling’ where a hybrid between learner-centered and teacher-centered pedagogies could usher

in a true reform in education.

Hybrid pedagogies where teacher-centered and learner-centered practices are combined

are what Barrett (2013) sees as a response to the challenges that confront a full adoption of

learner-centered education within a culture. This could be traced from, as Barrett (2013)

explains, concrete impediments that go beyond economic issues in low-income developing

countries. The challenge in implementing learner-centered education in its ‘pure form’ is not only

expensive in terms of financial cost and teacher time which cannot be afforded in developing

countries. ‘Hybrid pedagogies’ could arise from cultural differences when one culture is expected

to adopt a ‘newer pedagogy’ (i.e. learner-centered teaching) from a more dominant culture. More

importantly, ‘hybrid pedagogies’ result in how a traditional way of life in a community come in

conflict with the underpinning concepts of learner-centered education whose “roots are western,

liberal, and individualistic” (Richardson, 2003, p. 1633). Local ways of understanding and

28

traditions, as Stelmach (2011) observes, poses serious challenges to the implementation of

learner-centered education particularly in poorer rural communities in developing countries.

In her critical review of international studies on the issues in rural education, Stelmach

(2011) discussed the ways in which ‘new pedagogies’ are perceived in rural communities as

drastic shifts from their time-honored assumptions and practices. Making such shift is

particularly difficult in rural communities as they value cultural maintenance to preserve their

traditions. Should schools in rural communities adopt ‘newer pedagogies’ such as learner-

centered education, Stelmach (2011) deems that these communities would find ways to align

these pedagogies to what is valued in their community or select those which confirm the values

upheld in their local places. It is in this Stelmach’s view that meets Barrett’s (2007) claim that

there is a need for a greater appreciation for indigenous and localized versions of learner-

centered pedagogies especially in this time when there is an escalating pressure to ‘implement’,

to say the least, learner-centered education in developing countries, within the controversial

discourse of whether learner-centered education as a traveling global policy should be

transferred (see Cowen, 2009), translated (see Thompson, 2013), or borrowed (see Alexander,

2008). Barrett (2007) further claims that the polarization of teacher-centered instruction and

learner-centered teaching is oversimplified and needs to be reconceptualized, particularly within

what is culturally valued as ‘good teaching’. The prevalence of studies which report cultural

constraints behind the practice of learner-centered education in classrooms attest to this need of

a critical consideration of the local places—its cultural values and priorities towards education—

in understanding teaching. Clearly, as Kirkebæk, Du, Jensen (2013) claim, teaching is influenced

by both contextual and cultural factors both inside and outside the classroom. They argue that

culture shapes a teacher’s pedagogical decisions in a way that

if a culture is not fixed, but something created and negotiated between individuals and context, a teacher-centered, lecture-based approach to teaching culture yields very little meaning. On the other hand, if one believes it is possible to present learners with a precise description and clear-cut picture of [their] culture, an experience and participation-based learning-by-doing approach to teaching may be considered a waste of time (Kirkebæk, Du, Jensen, 2013, p. 5).

The findings and discussions in the earlier studies particularly those conducted in

Southeast Asia give context to Schweisfurth’s (2011) claim that “the history of the

implementation of learner-centered education in different contexts is riddled with stories of

failures grand and small” (p. 425). These ‘stories of failures’ as told in the studies I discussed so

far direct us to Schweisfurth’s (2013) more important discussion of the challenges behind

learner-centered education implementation; that is, culture along with its local ways of

29

understanding teaching, learning, relationships. Culture is, as Schweisfurth (2013) observes, a

subtle yet powerful element that must be considered in examining the challenges teachers face

when implementing learner-centered education in their classrooms. For instance, how learner-

centered education is implemented in some developing countries was found to be particularly

demanding in general “because of the profound shifts required in teacher-learner power

relations” (Schweisfurth, 2011, p. 427), where teachers struggle to balance control and attain

greater sense of democracy in the classroom. Culture and not only mere economic poverty

obstructs learner-centered education implementation in the classrooms of developing countries.

By ‘mere’ however, I do not mean to belittle nor to downplay the serious impact of poverty as a

real obstacle in how learner-centered education is implemented in poor schools. Instead, I seek

to direct one’s attention to the equally serious yet often overlooked cultural elements that are at

play beneath the problematic implementation of learner-centered education in developing

countries. This lifts the discourse of pedagogy from the existing dichotomies between teacher-

centered and learner-centered into a conceptual reframing of good teaching under a socio-

cultural perspective. After all, a study of pedagogy such as this will and must touch on culture

given that pedagogy is, as Alexander (2008) maintains, a study of teaching, learning, and culture.

A conceptual reframing of ‘good teaching’ in this study would then require a revisit of how

learner-centered education is defined, if not, understood especially in terms of how it was placed

against teacher-centered teaching. The subsequent section of this chapter will do just that.

Revisiting definitions of ‘learner-centered’ becomes necessary given that somewhere along the

way when learner-centered education as a traveling global policy was ‘adopted’, ‘translated’, or

‘borrowed’ across cultural contexts, there might have been some, in Schweisfurth’s (2013) words,

‘loose understanding’ over how learner-centered has been defined. Revisiting the definition of

‘learner-centered teaching’ will inevitably require for teacher-centered definitions to be revisited

as well; Chapter Three seeks to achieve this. This then allows for a more critical examination of

the perceived existing dichotomy between these two modes of teaching and thereby provides a

more informed ground for both reflection and re-examination of ‘good teaching’ by asking

questions of what it is, according to whom, and for whom.

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Two

Drifting back to shore: Revisiting definition(s) of learner-centered education

This section steps back from the current issues of learner-centered education as a global

phenomenon, in order to capture a clear frame of understanding learner-centered education

based on how it was first conceptualized. This revisit of how learner-centered education was first

defined is necessary because a plethora of terms (e.g. student-centered, constructivist, child-

centered, problem-based, and active learning, among others) have been associated with it and

used interchangeably. This therefore runs the risk of carrying presumptions and

misinterpretations about what is meant by ‘learner-centered education’, especially that it has

been contrasted with the principles and practices to which it is opposed (i.e. teacher-centered

instruction). With such wide and loose usage of the term ‘learner-centered education’, it would

then be helpful to trace its roots to provide a more-informed ground in examining both its

research-based success as a global education policy and its reported failures as a teaching

approach in developing countries as discussed in the previous section.

Learner-centered teaching began as an education reform

Revisiting the definition(s) of learner-centered education requires a glimpse of its historical

context. Therefore, it becomes necessary to go back to where learner-centered education began.

The term ‘learner-centered’ started as an education framework in the rise of progressive

education movement in the United States in the 1990s. This learner-centered framework was

then used as a guide for the educational reform in the United States in the late 1980s in response

to the deteriorating teaching quality and declining academic achievement among American

children. The earliest documents on learner-centered education as an educational reform can be

traced back to the works of Barbara L. McCombs (see McCombs & Whisler, 1997; Lambert &

McCombs, 1998).

The book of B. L. McCombs and colleague J. S. Whisler, The Learner-Centered Classroom

and School: Strategies for Increasing Student Motivation and Achievement, published in 1997 and

B. L. McCombs’ journal article, A Framework for the Redesign of K to 12 Education in the Context of

Current Educational Reform in 2003 provide a fuller description of the historical context of

learner-centered education reform. In these published works, she discussed how the late 1980s

and early 1990s were a time when many political leaders were responding to what some

31

educators had called a ‘crisis in education’. With such crisis threatening America’s national

standing as compared with student achievement in other countries (e.g., Japan), the National

Governors' Association was asked to meet with presidential committees and formulate the

National Education Goals. Later, this became Goals 2000: Educate America Act and was then

followed with discussions on the critical need for national and state assessments that could

provide greater levels of accountability for student achievement of rigorous academic standards.

Within these discussions, it was decided that the educational situation in America in the 1990s

calls for the formation of American Psychological Association's (APA) Presidential Task Force for

Psychology in Education. Members of this Task Force were united in seeing psychology as the apt

discipline that studies learning phenomena and processes at basic and applied levels. During this

three-year term of the APA Presidential Task Force, under McCombs’ leadership, a major project

was conducted to analyze and synthesize research on the personal and environmental conditions

that best support high levels of student learning and achievement. The project generated a

document called the Learner-Centered Psychological Principles: A Framework for School Reform

and Redesign in 1993 and its revision in 1997 specifies 14 fundamental principles about learners

and learning (American Psychological Association Presidential Task Force on Psychology in

Education in McCombs, 2003). This resulting document, developed by the American

Psychological Association (APA) Presidential Task Force on Psychology of Education in

collaboration with the Mid-Continent Regional Educational Laboratory (McREL), provided the

needed framework for the education reform and continues to be widely disseminated to

educators and researchers across America and abroad (McCombs & Whisler, 1997; Lambert &

McCombs, 1998; McCombs, 2003).

The 14 psychological principles under the Learner-centered framework are categorized

into four domains learning, namely: metacognitive and cognitive, affective and motivational,

developmental and social, and individual differences (see McCombs & Whisler, 1997 for fuller

description). Within these psychological principles is a definition of learner-centered education:

The perspective that couples a focus on individual learners (their heredity, experiences, perspectives, backgrounds, talents, interests, capacities, and needs) with a focus on learning (the best available knowledge about learning and how it occurs and about teaching practices that are most effective in promoting the highest levels of motivation, learning, and achievement for all learners) (McCombs & Whisler, 1997, p. 9).

The principles of learner-centered education framework are founded on constructivism

(McCombs, 2003; Brown, 2003) which holds that individuals create their own understandings

through an interaction between what they already know and the current knowledge at hand

(Phillips, 2000).

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Decades before the ‘learner-centered’ framework for education reform in America was

developed, studies on constructivist teaching practices (predominantly in the United States) had

already demonstrated significant success in promoting student learning (Gordon, 2009). As

constructivism has emerged as an influential model for explaining how students learn, there are

scholarly works which claim that approaches in teaching anchored on the principles of

constructivism are regarded as ‘good teaching’. For instance, in her critique of ‘constructivist

pedagogies’ and examination of the history of constructivist learning theory, Virginia Richardson

(2003) observes that studies on constructivism at that time suggest that

good teaching is constructivist teaching. That is, what is presented in the literature are examples of exemplary constructivist teaching, often compared with transmission teaching…. For some time, prescriptions of constructivist teaching focused on admonitions such as ‘‘no phonics teaching,’’ ‘‘no basal readers,’’ ‘‘no direct instruction,’’ and ‘‘no telling.’’ Thus, constructivist teaching theory consisted of a foundation of constructivist learning theory and a set of prescriptions about what actions should not be adopted from the transmission model (p. 1629-1639, emphasis added).

The available studies (see Fenstermacher & Richardson, 2000) on constructivist teaching

(constructivism-based pedagogies) in the 1980s until late 1990s not only described

constructivist teaching as ‘student-centered’ but also provided prescriptions of what good

teaching is and is not. Such prescriptions have been widely used by education reformers as they

lobby for a constructivist teaching approach at that time. Since then, available research on

constructivist teaching described it as ‘student-centered’ and often contrast it with transmission

teaching which include approaches such as direct instruction and explicit teaching (Rosenshine,

1986; Goeke, 2009). These transmission modes of teaching, then referred to ‘traditional teaching’

as they have been used in the classroom for a long time, are placed in opposition against ‘student-

centered’ (N.B. used as an adjective) constructivist teaching. Reformers then use the label ‘teacher-

centered’ pertaining to those long-standing ‘traditional’ transmission modes of teaching

(Anderson-Levitt, 2003) to emphasise its contrasts to constructivist teaching.

With the increasing reports on drop out, illiteracy, and underachievement rates among

students in the United States since the 1980s, reformers argue that the mode of teaching these

students are accustomed to (referring to ‘traditional’ transmission teaching approaches they

labeled as ‘teacher-centered’) is not working out as it used to be. In a critical examination of the

education reforms that take place in the United States in the late 1980s and 1990s, Rosen (2003)

discussed the way how reformers argue against traditional methods as these have long deprived

students of true learning. Reformers say that traditional teaching failed to develop in students the

conceptual understanding they need to meaningfully apply concepts in real life. The preferred

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method for reformers is therefore, as Rosen (2003) discussed, ‘discovery learning’ which requires

students to learn in collaborative groups as they work on complex tasks that activate their prior

knowledge. Reformers argue that students learn not by being given rules to follow but by

‘constructing their own knowledge’ (Rosen, 2003).

This concept of the ‘student as the center of learning’ flourished and was further

developed later as the ‘student-centered teaching’ which now refers to an approach in teaching

which emphasized the role of the teacher as a facilitator rather than an expert. Stemming from

constructivism, ‘student-centered’ became, as reformers proposed, an alternative way of

teaching. A detailed history of student-centered teaching is provided in Crumly, Dietz, and

d’Angelo’s (2014) book, Pedagogies for Student-centered Learning where it was discussed how

the philosophies of Rousseau, Pestalozzi, and Dewey influence the development of student-

centered teaching. Crumly, et al. (2014) also discussed how the publication of Freire’s Pedagogy

of the Oppressed in 1968, inspired education researchers and reformers to take a ‘paradigm shift’

from a ‘teacher-centered’ to a ‘student-centered’ approach in teaching. With the escalating

demands for change in the way teachers teach and to ‘finally’ address the perennial issues of

student disengagement and underachievement that are prevalent in the American public schools

in the late 1990s, a ‘constructivist’ and a ‘student-centered' teaching framework is introduced as

part of an education reform—the Learner-Centered Education (LCE). It is important to note here

that the learner-centered teaching which I have been referring to in this study traces back to this

education framework developed by the American Psychological Association (APA) as part of an

education reform in the United States in collaboration with Mid-Continent Regional Educational

Laboratory (McREL), as I mentioned at the start of this section. This ‘learner-centered’ framework

of teaching as part of education reform agenda was introduced through scholarly works of

Barbara McCombs. Later, McComb’s works were widely cited and supported by a wide range of

studies and research conducted in the early 2000s reporting the effectiveness of ‘learner-

centered teaching’ in increasing student engagement, motivation, and achievement.

Learner-centered practices prescribed in early studies

The early wave of studies conducted in the early 2000s reported that learner-centered pedagogy

is effective in increasing student motivation and achievement (Daniels & Perry, 2003; Pierce &

Kalkman, 2003; Meece, 2003; Schuh, 2003; Fok & Watkins, 2007). According to these studies, the

effectiveness of learner-centered education in bringing about student engagement and

achievement requires the learner to be at the heart of the teaching and learning process

(McCombs, 2003) given its theoretical roots founded on constructivism (Brown, 2003) and the

social cognitive model of student motivation (Pintrich & Schrauben, 1992 in King, 2003). To

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achieve optimum results in student learning, engagement, and achievement, McCombs (2003)

calls for teachers to make the ‘paradigm shift’ as they practice learner-centered teaching. A

similar suggestion is put forward by Maryellen Weimer in her book, Learner-centered teaching:

Five key changes to practice. Weimer (2002) calls for teachers to reflect on her proposed five key

themes or ‘changes’ to make teaching more learner-centered. For teaching to be truly learner-

centered, Weimer (2002) strongly suggests that there must be change in (1) balance of power,

(2) function of content, (3) the role of the teacher, (4) the responsibility for learning, and (5) the

purpose and processes of evaluation. When learner-centered practices are used in the classroom,

as Weimer (2002) claims, the five key changes slowly transpire thereby promoting optimal

learning and academic achievement among students especially in higher grades. Weimer’s five

key changes are observed in the study of Mostrom and Blumberg (2012) where college student

data show that learner-centered practices are effective in facilitating their learning and improving

their academic achievement.

Students in Mostrom and Blumberg’s (2012) study reported that their teachers who

employ learner-centered practices are those who (1) give them opportunities to take

responsibility for their own learning, (2) assist them to construct their own meaning of the course

content, and (3) provide them with formative assessments. Learning under learner-centered

teaching enable these students to facilitate their own learning therefore increasing both their

academic engagement and achievement. A similar effect of learner-centered teaching on students

in higher grades is reported in a quasi-experimental study of Harpe, Phipps, and Alowayesh

(2012). Results in their study suggest that students who were taught using learner-centered

teaching have a significant improvement not only in their content knowledge in their statistics

subject. Most importantly, Harpe, et al. (2012) observe an increase in self-efficacy among the

students and improvement in their attitude towards statistics, a subject which is, as Harpe, et al.

(2012) described, associated with high levels of stress and anxiety to students in college. These

students who learned under learner-centered teaching reported that they were (1) provided with

various opportunities to demonstrate learning, (2) given control in the determination of the

course grade, (3) allowed to focus on learning rather than course grade, and (4) given adequate

feedback. Harpe, et al. (2012) concluded the students’ improved content knowledge in statistics

is accounted for their improved perceptions and attitudes towards statistics that were

significantly influenced by their learning under learner-centered teaching.

Whilst Weimer’s scholarly works on learner-centered education are largely in the context

of higher education, Barbara McCombs’s studies, on one hand, focus on children and adolescents

as learners. In one of her earlier works on learner-centered education, Barbara McCombs with

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colleague Jo Sue Whisler in their book, The Learner-centered classroom and school: Strategies for

increasing student motivation and achievement, outlined several learner-centered classroom

practices. In this book, McCombs and Whisler (1997) discussed that in a learner-centered

classroom, “the teacher (1) makes it clear that she or he has high expectations for all students, (2)

listens to and respects each student’s point of view, (3) encourages and facilitates students’

participation and shared decision making, (4) provides structure without being overly directive,

(5) encourages students to think for themselves, (6) emphasizes student enjoyment of activities,

and (7) helps students refine their strategies for constructing meaning and organizing content”

(p. 65). These practices were supported in several studies in terms of their effectiveness in

delivering increased academic engagement and achievement among students especially in earlier

grades. For instance, the study of Meece (2003) has provided evidence for such outcomes when

she surveyed 2,200 middle school students from diverse communities in the United States.

Findings in Meece’s (2003) study suggest that the students showed increased motivation and

achievement in learning when they perceived their teachers were adopting learner-centered

practices that (1) develop their higher order thinking, (2) honor their voices, (3) take to account

their perceptions, and (4) cater to their individual needs. Meece (2003) also reports that students

put high value on classroom environments that (5) foster positive, caring student-teacher

relationships in supporting their developmental needs as young adolescents.

Several other studies have identified learner-centered practices such as providing

students with choices and encouraging them to direct their own learning through reflection

(Pierce & Kalkman, 2003). Letting students work in small groups, discuss real-world and open-

ended problems to develop their critical and creative thinking (McCombs, 2003; Brown, 2003;

Daniels & Perry, 2003; Schuh, 2003) are also perceived as learner-centered practices. Other

essential learner-centered practices also include adopting a more democratic classroom

management and shared leadership (Garrett, 2008) and establishing caring (King, 2003) and

positive relationships in the classroom (Cornelius-White, 2007; Jennings & Greenberg, 2009).

Overall, these studies show that learner-centered classroom practices not only increase student

motivation, academic achievement but also develop positive social and emotional attitude

towards learning among students.

Generally, the first wave of studies on learner-centered classroom teaching suggest that

practices which lead to improved student engagement and achievement range from using

teaching strategies such as cooperative learning groups for the students, implementing activities

that develop meaningful construction of knowledge through inquiry to fostering positive student-

teacher relationships. From here, it becomes necessary to examine the learner-centered practices

36

which the early studies predominantly report as effective in bringing about higher levels of

student engagement and achievement, which are (1) fostering relational care and (2) providing

opportunities for cooperative learning.

Fostering relational care

Of all the learner-centered practices, King (2003) claims that “the most predictive of student

success is creating positive interpersonal relationships” (p. 154). Such claim is supported in a

meta-analysis by Cornelius-White (2007) who reviewed 1,000 articles on student-teacher

relationships from 1948 to 2004. From these available research, Cornelius-White (2007)

synthesized 119 studies which reveal that there is a substantial association between person-

centered teacher variables (i.e. affective variables like showing warmth and empathy;

instructional variables like encouraging learning or developing higher order thinking) and

student outcomes (i.e. cognitive, affective, and behavioral outcomes). Of all person-centered

teacher variables, Cornelius-White’s (2007) findings show that the affective variables particularly

‘showing warmth and empathy’ within positive student-teacher relationships have the strongest

association with student outcomes. Simply put, learner-centered student-teacher relationships,

as Cornelius-White (2007) concludes, are effective in promoting student success in terms of

participation, critical thinking, satisfaction, drop-out prevention, self-esteem, reduction of

disruptive behavior, and perceived achievement, among others. Several other studies have also

shown the positive effect of positive teacher-student relationships on various aspects of student

learning such as increasing engagement in academic learning (van Uden, Ritzen, & Pieters, 2014),

creating prosocial classrooms where socio-emotional competence is cultivated (Jennings and

Greenberg, 2008); promoting student resilience and wellbeing in school (Johnson, 2008); and

sustaining motivation among students and developing them into self-regulated learners

(Fredricks, Blumenfeld, & Paris, 2004). Positive relationships in the classroom are also found to

benefit students of challenging backgrounds in the study of Roorda, Koomen, Spilt, and Oort

(2011). In their meta-analytic investigation on the associations between affective qualities of

teacher-student relationships and students’ school engagement and achievement, Roorda, et al.

(2011) report that positive relationships in the classroom are important for diverse groups of

students, from students who are academically at risk to disadvantaged economic backgrounds,

and children with learning difficulties to students in mature ages.

Similarly, students at risk, including those who live in poverty, are the focus in the study

of Johnson (2008) where positive teacher-student relationships are shown to have a positive

impact on their wellbeing and resilience at school despite their challenging personal

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backgrounds. Drawing on qualitative data from a longitudinal study, Johnson (2008) used student

voices to examine how simple everyday connections between the teacher and the students are

critical in supporting students cope better in their studies despite difficulties in their lives at home

and in school. Some of these simple practices which teachers can do in promoting resilience at

school as part of fostering teacher-student relationships in the classroom are (1) making

themselves available and accessible to students; (2) engaging students by actively listening to

their concerns and worries; (3) showing empathy with, and understanding of, their students’

‘tough’ circumstances yet providing them with positive strategies to deal with adversity; (4)

advocating for their students by mobilising existing support provisions that are available for ‘at

risk’ students; and (5) remembering the ‘human touches’ that promote pro-social bonding

between teachers and students (Johnson, 2008, p. 395). Most of these practices suggest a

particular attention on the affective domain of student learning and lean towards a

demonstration of care for students. This relational care or ‘pedagogical caring’ as studies on

learner-centered teaching refer to, holds its centrality in learner-centered teaching given its

significant impact on promoting student engagement and achievement.

Pedagogical caring

The notion of ‘care’, as Velasquez, West, Graham, & Osguthorpe (2013) observe in their review of

available research on caring and nurturing pedagogies in the past decade, is emerging as an

important component of effective teaching. For instance, in a study of King (2003) on pedagogical

caring within the framework of learner-centered education, students revealed that they are more

motivated to learn when they perceived their teachers were using learner-centered practices that

involve caring. The students reported that learner-centered practices which they perceived from

their teachers as care are (1) embracing democratic interaction styles, (2) developing positive

expectations with regard to students’ individual differences, (3) modeling a caring attitude

toward their own work, and (4) providing constructive feedback (King, 2003, p. 156). Despite the

increasing evidence on the benefits of pedagogical caring on student learning, there is however a

need to further examine the theoretical contributions of care on education and to understand

how teachers are perceived as caring in different contexts and communities (Panthi, Luitel, &

Belbase, 2018). Caring is after all, as Velasquez, West, Graham, & Osguthorpe (2013) argue,

contextual and varies depending on the location and educational setting. This contextual nature

of caring is a significant finding in a qualitative study of Garza (2009) which used comparative

analysis in identifying and describing caring practices of teachers perceived by Latino and White

students. Findings of the students’ perceptions in Garza’s (2009) study show that caring teachers

(1) provide scaffolding during a teaching episode, (2) reflect a kind disposition through actions,

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(3) are always available to the student, (4) show a personal interest in the student’s well-being

inside and outside the classroom, (5) and provide affective academic support in the classroom

setting (p. 310).

Given the diverse cultural backgrounds of the students in his study, Garza (2009) argues

that a dimension of culture must be considered in examining teacher practices of caring. The

practice of care must be, as Garza (2009) suggests, aligned to the students’ cultural conceptions

of care. This is because caring varies from one student to another due to influences of contexts

and perspective. For instance, the White students in Garza’s (2009) study emphasised ‘reflecting

a kind disposition through actions’ (i.e. establishing student-teacher relationships) as the

teaching practice most perceived as care. On the other hand, Latino students perceived that they

are most cared for by teachers who ‘provide scaffolding during a teaching episode’ while

unconsciously ignoring their teacher’s affective caring practices and effort in establishing

personal relationships. The contrasting perceptions of care between White and Latino students

allowed Garza (2009) to conclude that the Latino students’ perception of care is brought about

by the pressures of state-mandated tests which were driven by research reports on a significant

achievement gap between White and Latino students. This academic pressure could explain the

Latino students’ placing greater value on academic help over personal relationships in terms of

their perception of care. Even though both groups of students perceived the five teaching

practices as care, as outlined above, Garza (2009) argues that the value placed on each teaching

practice varies from one ethnic group to another. A mindful consideration of students’

perceptions of care, as Garza (2009) maintains, becomes necessary so teachers can identify the

caring practices that best suit their students’ needs. Given the centrality of students’ perception

of care, Garza (2009) claims that it is critical for teachers to consider their students perceptions

so that their caring efforts indeed help students in their learning.

The studies on student-teacher relationships and pedagogical caring I discussed so far

appear to share two common and complex themes of the ‘centrality of students’ perception of

care’ and a ‘focus on affective-personal domain of student learning’. The complexity resides in

how the teacher should care for students given that not all students, given their diverse classroom

experiences and ethnic backgrounds, have the same perceptions of caring. Therefore, the notion

of care needs to be understood not only in the teacher’s (as the carer) intention and act of care

but also (and most importantly) in the students’ perception of care from the carer. This dynamic

in caring for students is encapsulated in Noddings’s (1992) ‘ethic of care’. For Noddings (1992),

the act of care does not end in the teacher’s demonstration of caring practices. Rather, a caring

relationship becomes present when students (as the cared-for) acknowledge and accept such

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demonstration of care from the teacher (as the carer) indeed, as care. There is danger, as

Noddings (1992) cautions, when teachers presume that their practices are demonstrations of

care while the students feel otherwise. Therefore, it becomes necessary to listen to the students

and know what exactly they need. As Noddings (2012) puts it, the teacher “as one-caring, […]

must respond to the expressed need of the cared-for” (p. 774). Without listening to what the

students actually need in school, teachers may run the risk of perceiving ‘assumed needs’

(Noddings, 2012) of their students based on what available literature on pedagogical caring

prescribe as practices of care. Therefore, it becomes necessary for teachers to listen to student

voices and examine whether their own perceptions of care depart from or align with what is

prescribed in literature. A carer is, as Noddings (2012) describes, “first of all attentive, and

watches and listens” (p. 773).

Noddings’s (1992) ‘ethic of care’ therefore calls for teachers to critically examine and

reflect on how they demonstrate care given that it requires different behaviors (sometimes caring

calls for toughness, sometimes gentleness) and varies from one context to another and person to

person. This is particularly challenging for teachers to do, as Noddings (2013) observes,

especially today when educational policies put greater emphasis on teacher accountability

thereby making teachers believe that caring is fulfilled when they make students achieve the set

of knowledge, skills, and attitudes prescribed in the curriculum. Nevertheless, Noddings (2013)

still encourages teachers to consider which of their actions make actual sense to students so they

can encourage them to succeed in life not just in school. A caring relationship for Noddings (2013)

is fulfilled to an extent where the care given by the teacher is reciprocated by the students. While

this reciprocation may not be expected given the hierarchical nature of student-teacher

relationship, the students can in many ways show care for their teachers such as paying attention,

avoiding disruptive behaviors, and engaging in learning activities that make them more

successful in school. Therefore, the students’ perceptions of care, as the studies on pedagogical

caring I discussed so far predominantly highlight, holds a central theme in understanding

relational care and its significant impact on student learning.

The second theme which studies (King 2003; Johnson, 2008; Cornelius-White, 2007;

Garza, 2009; Roorda, Koomen, Spilt, & Oort, 2011) on relational caring have in common is the

‘attention given to the students’ affective domain in learning’. Literature on learner-centered

pedagogical caring promote practices that encourage teachers to connect to students on a

personal level. However, a disproportionate focus on the socio-emotional aspect of learning can

also be problematic. The problem arises when teachers would interpret pedagogical caring

merely as maintaining rapport and interpersonal relationships without equipping the students

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with the core competencies they need to be successful in school. While students may feel cared

for in a learning environment created by the teacher but when they lack the mastery of basic skills

and academic competence, there is then, as King (2003) raised, a misinterpretation of what

pedagogical caring is for. King (2003) has strong contentions against such misinterpretations of

care and argues that

limiting care to emotional or sentimental caring can be dysfunctional without intention or plans to prepare students for skills needed to live independently in an increasingly technologically sophisticated world. Care should be empowering, not further entrenching a disabling condition. … Critical to caring is giving students, particularly those at risk, lifelong learning skills to improve their life circumstances (p. 156).

The dangers of this sentimental caring, as King (2003) points out, arise if intentions to equip

students with life skills are absent. Care must be ‘empowering’ in ways that it provides students

with opportunities to develop their strengths and to contribute their talents to a much larger

community. King’s (2003) holistic approach to practising pedagogical caring contributes to a

sense of belonging for students where academic and emotional support are both addressed,

enabling disadvantaged students to lead a successful life after school. Relational care that seeks

to help students acquire the skills they need to succeed not only in school but life in general

becomes critical for students who are at risk and disadvantaged. While King (2003) speaks within

the context of special education for student with disabilities and special needs, it is important to

note that ‘students at risk’ also include, as Johnson (2008) suggests, those in high-poverty school

communities.

King’s (2003) notion of ‘empowering care’ that lies within positive student-teacher

relationships suggests similarity with the caring relationships which studies on disadvantaged

rural schools have explored. For instance, in the mixed-method study of Kannapel, Clements,

Taylor, and Hibpshman (2005) on eight ‘high-performing high-poverty’ urban and rural

elementary schools in Kentucky, their qualitative data show that these schools succeed at helping

their students achieve despite their school’s challenging economic conditions. The success was

attributed to a school culture of supportive faculty, staff and a strong academic, instructional

focus. A more interesting finding is that the rural public schools in this study were reported to

perform at and above expected standards of achievement. Kannapel, et al. (2005) observe that a

community of caring and respectful relationships in these high-poverty rural public schools sets

them apart from the urban schools. Such relationships are, as Kannapel, et al. (2005) claim,

behind the achievement of rural students despite the high poverty conditions in their schools.

The results of their study led Kannapel, et al. (2005) to conclude that while it was presumed that

the worst-performing schools are rural public schools in disadvantaged areas, there are rural

41

schools that defy such presumptions given the existing strong supportive relationships within the

rural community.

Strong community ties are also found as a strong contributor to the success of five ‘high-

needs but high-performing’ rural schools in central United States which are the focus of the case

study of Barley and Beesley (2007). Similar findings are reported in the several other studies

(Waller & Barrentine, 2015; Kline, White, & Lock, 2013; Irvin, Byun, Meece, Farmer, & Hutchins,

2011; Azano, 2011; Rodriguez, 2008; Freeman & Anderman, 2005; Hughes, 1999), claiming that

the successes of poor rural schools are attributed to both positive student-teacher relationships

and close community connections. Close relationship with the community as a significant factor

behind student success in poor rural schools has long been a significant finding among rural

education studies conducted in the late 1980s. This is observed by Khattri, Riley, and Kane (1997)

in their review of available research on rural schools from late 1980s to 1990s. Khattri, et al.

(1997) reported that

the academic performance of students in poor rural areas is better than that of students in poor, urban areas. …Furthermore, students in extreme rural areas outperformed students in disadvantaged urban areas… . (p. 83).

The advantage of rural schools over their counterparts in the city is, as Khattri, et al. (1997)

suggest, their strong school-community connection which makes the learning experiences of

their students more relevant. From this finding, Khattri, et al. (1997) conclude that school-

community connection is central to rural student engagement and achievement because the

students see the relevance of learning beyond classroom walls. School-community connection, as

Khattri, et al. (1997) maintain, establish a ‘sense of place’ for rural students—a sense of belonging

that invites the rural students to actively take part in preserving and transforming their rural

community for the better. This ‘sense of place’ as incorporated into teaching practices in poor

rural schools is explored in a separate study of Azano (2011).

In investigating the instructional practices of an eighth-grade teacher in a rural high

school, Azano (2011) found that one way of effectively engaging rural high school students is to

use classroom practices which connect students to their community and teach curriculum

content that are relevant to their rural place. These classroom practices, which Azano (2011)

refers to as ‘place-based’ teaching include: (1) sharing of teacher’s personal experiences of the

place, particularly in the rural community through storytelling as an initial strategy to activate

students’ prior knowledge and interest; (2) using relevant place-based content such as forms of

literature (i.e. prose, poetry, or song based on the place or school community) to help students

explore and create their personal sense of place; (3) encouraging students to examine implicit

42

meanings within the provided content and identify both the positive features and the limiting

characteristics of life in a rural community; (4) giving students opportunities to not only reflect

on but also challenge the limiting characteristics associated to rural living; and (5) involving

students in a critical and in-depth discussions where they can examine and address the

limitations of living in rural communities so students can be empowered to change these

limitations.

When rural teachers incorporate the place-based practices into their instruction, Azano

(2011) claims that they are more able to encourage students to construct their own

understanding of place, making students more conscious of their cultural heritage and their

possible contributions to the progress of their own community. Practising these place-based

strategies, as Azano (2011) explains, not only encourages rural students to appreciate where they

come from but also allows them to identify and respond to the challenges in their local

communities. By then rural students are able see that despite being remote from the city, their

rural community is able to provide them meaningful learning opportunities and community

relationships that support their achievement in school.

While rural public schools are far removed from city centers and largely depend on their

local economic and cultural resources, these very realities are also responsible in pulling rural

communities together. This ‘social cohesiveness’ among rural communities is what Patricia

Hardre (2007) claims as the highly valuable feature of rural public schools and a strong

contributor to the success of rural students. This close relationship with the community is, as

Hardre (2007) observes, influential in keeping students in schools and motivating them to

achieve. Most of Hardre’s research on rural schools, in collaboration with her colleagues in rural

education, report consistent findings of strong and supportive relationships with the community

behind the success of poor rural schools. For instance, in Hardre’s study with Reeve in 2003, they

found that rural high schools, given their extreme economic limitations, often rely on ‘other

resources’ to support their students’ engagement. These ‘other resources’ which Hardre and

Reeve (2003) refer to are the ‘teachers and rural community’ from where the students can source

their motivation to stay in school. Hardre and Reeve (2003) claim that when rural community is

supportive of its students, they become more “engaged in school related activity when

instructional activities are interesting, relevant to their lives, and affirm their competencies” (p.

353). Building on this work comes two other studies of Hardre with Crowson, Debacker, and

White in 2007 and with Sullivan and Roberts in 2008 on poor rural high schools in America. These

two descriptive studies show that of all predictors of success among students in disadvantaged

rural high schools, it is the supportive classroom climate (Hardre, Crowson, Debacker, & White,

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2007) and the teacher’s motivating strategies (Hardre, Sullivan, & Roberts, 2008) which are found

to be most influential to the rural students’ engagement and motivation. Of these motivating

strategies, Hardre, Sullivan, and Roberts (2008) found that a teacher’s caring practices are among

the powerful ways a teacher can do in helping disadvantaged rural high school students become

more successful in their learning.

While most of Hardre and colleagues’ studies on rural schools are quantitative in nature,

their work foregrounds the success of rural schools despite high-poverty conditions. Rural

schools are, as Hardre and Hennessey (2010) raised, often characterized with descriptors of low

achievement and motivation among students. Rural schools are also presumed to be incapable of

providing their students with the same academic and extracurricular support and resources

compared with urban schools. However, despite these presumptions that beset rural schools, the

works of Hardre and colleagues consistently emphasised that there are successes and advantages

in rural schools that often go unacknowledged. Much of these successes, as emphasised over the

years of Hardre’s studies on poor rural schools in the United States, can be accounted to the strong

teacher and community support that make up for what rural schools lack in terms of economic

resources.

The studies on student-teacher relationships, relational care, and school-community

relationships I discussed so far suggest the centrality of positive relationships in promoting

student learning, engagement, and achievement. The findings reported in these studies affirm

King’s (2003) claim that of all learner-centered practices, the most predictive of student success

is creating positive interpersonal relationships. When teachers foster positive relationships in the

classroom, they communicate to their students the value of essential life skills such as

cooperation, which for Cornelius-White and Harbaugh (2010) is a critically necessary social skill

to learn in this day and age. This explains why learner-centered education promotes practices

that provide students with opportunities to learn cooperatively. As Cornelius-White and

Harbaugh (2010) put it, “Learner-centered instruction (LCI) is thoroughly cooperative,

prioritizing the fostering of facilitative relationships as one of the most foundational and

influential practices in education” (p. 139). It is from this premise that most of the early wave of

research on learner-centered education examined cooperative learning strategies and their effect

on student learning. This then brings us to the second teaching practice which early studies on

learner-centered education predominantly report as effective in bringing about higher levels of

student engagement and achievement—'providing opportunities for cooperative learning’.

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Providing opportunities for cooperative learning

Cooperative learning (CL) is a strongly promoted learner-centered strategy given that the theory

and practice of CL are aligned to one of the principles of learner-centered education, which states

that “learning is influenced by social interactions, interpersonal relations, and communication”

(McCombs, 2003, p. 95). Several earlier studies on learner-centered education promote teaching

practices and strategies that allow for students to learn cooperatively. This is because these

studies found that ‘learner-centered’ cooperative learning strategies not only facilitate the

development prosocial skills of students. Most importantly, cooperative learning strategies in

learner-centered classrooms, as reported in these studies, challenge students to think critically

thereby developing their higher-order cognitive skills such as problem solving, creativity, and

reflective thinking.

One of the early studies on learner-centered education that promote the practice of

cooperative learning as a teaching strategy is that of Thompson, Licklider, and Jungst (2003).

Their study reported that when learner-centered strategies such as graphic organizers (e.g. venn

diagrams, categorical grids, similes) are implemented within cooperative learning arrangements

(where students in groups think together in identifying the similarities and differences of an

assigned concepts), students develop deep understanding and hone critical thinking abilities. The

development of deep forms of learning among students is, as Thompson, et al. (2003) claim,

accounted to cooperative learning processes which “invite students to expand their thinking and

build new knowledge” (p. 134). This explains the adoption of cooperative learning approach

(particularly that which is promoted by Johnson & Johnson, 1999) in the learner-centered

strategies which Thompson, et al. (2003) claim as effective teaching practices in developing

higher thinking skills among students.

Studies on cooperative learning particularly Ashman and Gillies’s (2013) suggest that

interaction among students facilitates the development of higher mental functions. This is

because the processes involved in cooperative learning challenges students to internalize new

patterns of learning as they become exposed to their peers’ patterns of reasoning. However, the

gains of cooperative learning are not only limited to students’ cognitive development.

Cooperative learning also fosters social skills among students. As Sharan (2010) argues,

“cooperative learning procedures combine and promote academic and social skills, two universal

educational goals” (p. 300). The promotion of social skills through cooperative learning is a

significant finding in the study of Gillies (2004) which investigated the effect of cooperative

learning on 223 junior high school students as they worked on mathematics problem-solving

activities in ‘structured’ and ‘unstructured’ cooperative groups. Results in Gillies’s (2004) study

45

show that students in the ‘structured groups’ demonstrated more altruistic or helping behaviors

than those in ‘unstructured groups’. Moreover, the students in ‘structured groups’ also developed

a stronger perception of group cohesion and social responsibility for each other’s learning than

those in the ‘unstructured groups’.

By ‘structured groups’, Gillies (2004) refer to a cooperative group learning among three

or more children who demonstrate the key elements of cooperative learning (in Johnson and

Johnson, 1990) and who received instruction in the social skills needed to promote cooperation

(see Johnson and Johnson, 1999). The key elements of cooperative learning according to Johnson

and Johnson (1990) require students to (1) work together on a common task (task

interdependence); (2) help each other and facilitate each other’s learning; and (3) accept the

responsibility for contributing to the group’s assigned tasks (Gillies, 2004). Results in Gillies’s

(2004) study suggests that when students are provided with opportunities to work together on a

regular basis in structured cooperative groups, they develop prosocial behaviors with their peers

and positive attitudes towards learning. Such gains from cooperative learning, as Gillies (2004)

concludes, could lead to successful learning outcomes for students because they are encouraged

to discuss ideas where they learn different functions for language in thinking and reasoning. This

positive effect of cooperative learning as a learner-centered strategy on improving language

acquisition skills among second language learners is found in the study of Haley (2004).

Building on an action research which was participated in by 23 foreign language and

English as a Second Language (ESL) teachers and 650 students from eight states in America and

three countries, Haley (2004) investigated further the effects of incorporating multiple

intelligences activities into learner-centered instruction on the academic performance of

students in ESL classes. Results in Haley’s (2004) study show that ESL students in the quasi-

experimental group who received learner-centered instruction in which multiple intelligence

activities were incorporated outperformed their peers in the control group. Students in the

control group, as Haley (2004) reported, were taught differently where the “instruction was

mostly teacher-centered. Teachers relied heavily on the use of rote drill and memorization. There

were no cooperative learning, group, or interactive activities” (p. 168). The success of the

students in the experimental group can be accounted to their teacher’s use of learner-centered

strategies which include cooperative learning.

Given its academic and social benefits on student learning, Cooperative Learning, while a

theory of its own right and merit with a wide range of supporting studies under its belt, is adopted

as a teaching strategy under learner-centered education. Clearly, providing opportunities for

46

cooperative learning and fostering relational care, became two of the learner-centered practices

strongly promoted in most early studies on learner-centered education because of their effect on

increasing student engagement and achievement. Cooperative learning and relational care are

widely endorsed by those who advocate for learner-centered education because both attend to

the individual developmental differences of students (King, 2003; McCombs & Whisler, 1997;

McCombs, 2003). Recognizing students’ individual differences is one of the hallmarks of learner-

centered education. Teaching practices which uphold this central tenet of learner-centered

education are argued to effect optimum levels of motivation, learning, and achievement for all

learners (McCombs & Whisler, 1997).

Over the years, an escalating number of studies committed to searching for, in McCombs

and Whisler (1997) words, the “practices that are most effective in promoting the highest levels

of motivation, learning, and achievement for all learners” (p. 9, emphasis added). A sizeable body

of research on learner-centered education have been conducted outside the United States of

America reporting the effectiveness of learner-centered education in delivering its promise of

student engagement and achievement (Gehart, 2011; Fauziah, Farah, & Ismin, 2012; Harpe,

Phipps, & Alowayesh, 2012; Mostrom & Blumberg, 2012; Polly, Margerison, & Piel, 2014). Since

then, learner-centered education has become the global education policy that it is now.

With its global status, learner-centered education however received criticisms among

more recent studies particularly its implementation in developing countries. A number of these

studies raised the cultural issues in implementing learner-centered teaching and contested

McCombs and Whisler’s (1997) notion of all students benefitting from the effective practices of

learner-centered education. This latest wave of research on learner-centered education,

particularly those conducted in Southeast Asia which I discussed at the start of this chapter,

recommend for either a merging of learner-centered and teacher-centered pedagogies or a

revival of ‘traditional’ teacher-centered teaching. This suggests that while it holds notions of ‘bad

teaching’, teacher-centered instruction must therefore have, as these recent studies argue, some

elements of ‘good teaching’ in it. Clearly, a revisit of ‘traditional teaching’ becomes necessary to

examine its good, if not, effective methods including how it was originally defined, understood,

and practised before having been labeled ‘teacher-centered teaching’ and earned negative

reputations. Such a revisit takes this study closer to its attempt in exploring ‘good teaching’ within

the dichotomy between learner-centered teaching and teacher-centered teaching.

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Summary

In this chapter, I have revisited the key definitions, principles, and practices of learner-centered

education at the time when it was created as a framework for educational reform in the United

States in the late 1990s. I have discussed the way learner-centered education, since its

conceptualisation, has been promoted as the ‘alternative pedagogy’ to the long-standing

‘transmission forms of teaching’ which reformers point as the culprit behind the increasing

illiteracy and underachievement rates among American students at that time. I have examined

the first wave of studies on learner-centered education which were conducted in the 2000s,

noting that fostering caring student-teacher relationships and providing opportunities for

cooperative learning are two of other widely-promoted learner-centered practices found effective

in improving student engagement and achievement. I have discussed how a sizeable number of

studies conducted by independent researchers across the United States report the success of

learner-centered education not only in delivering high student outcomes but also in maximizing

student engagement. This discussion illustrates the beginnings of learner-centered education as

a global phenomenon as more studies within and outside the United States support the conclusion

that it is a teaching approach found effective in promoting the highest levels of motivation,

learning, and achievement for all learners.

I have discussed the issues reported in several studies on learner-centered education

which focused on its implementation in developing countries particularly in Southeast Asia,

especially at the height of their education reforms in the late 2000s. This discussion foregrounds

the problematic ‘adoption’ of learner-centered education in poorer classroom contexts. I have

identified the contextual issues such as economic impediments and cultural constraints which

present as real obstacles in the implementation of learner-centered education in developing

countries. I have examined the cultural issues raised in recent studies on learner-centered

education in Southeast Asia particularly how the local ways of understanding teaching and

learning within a cultural place, most especially the value for academic rigour and respect for

teacher authority, pose as concrete barriers to learner-centered education.

I have outlined the assumptions made about how local identities and traditional values

within a culture could be at risk of being dismissed, if not, ignored as a country seeks national

reforms under global pressures and directives. I have discussed the critique provided by theorists

of place-based education and scholars in comparative education on how learner-centered

education as a global reform policy can be a threat to the local ways of understanding teaching

and learning as developing countries mimic the global structures of schooling and education

prescribed as ‘best’ by dominant external agencies.

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C H A P T E R T H R E E

Washed ashore: Picking up in history the pieces of a teaching called ‘teacher-centered’

Introduction

This chapter takes us back to times when a mode of teaching first came to be before its later

negative labelling as ‘teacher-centered’ instruction. This chapter on teacher-centered instruction

complements the ‘revisiting of definitions’ which started in the previous chapter in the section on

learner-centered education and its provenance. This chapter traces the origins of teacher-

centered instruction and revisits its traditions, theories, and research-based methods and

practices. In tracing the approaches and methods of teaching which have later been categorized

as ‘teacher-centered’, I examine how these are described in literature promoting learner-centered

teaching. In doing so, I identify two major lines of scholarship whose teaching approaches match

the ‘teacher-centered’ descriptions provided in the learner-centered literature. In identifying

these teaching approaches, namely: direct instruction, active teaching, and explicit teaching, I

reviewed both scholarly works and research to which these teaching approaches are directly

associated. In this chapter therefore, I discuss the teaching principles and practices according to

the proponents mainly of direct instruction under the scholarship on teacher effects (process-

outcome).

I discuss the criticisms raised by the proponents of learner-centered education against ‘teacher-

centered instruction’ and the way these perspectives generated particular conclusions about

direct instruction. In this discussion, I identify the teaching practices under direct instruction

which are found by a long line of successful ‘teacher effects’ research as effective in increasing

student achievement. I chart the development of ‘teacher effects’ research in history, noting the

shifting research designs and methods overtime as researchers investigate the effect of teacher

practices on student achievement and learning.

I argue that a revisiting both the roots of learner-centered teaching and teacher-centered

instruction can provide a more informed and holistic ground for reflection and re-examination of

‘good teaching’ within the existing presumed dichotomy between these two modes of teaching.

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A brief glimpse of the story behind ‘teacher-centered’ as a negative label

In the previous chapter, I have outlined how the rise of constructivist teaching in the 1990s ushers

in a new wave of teaching often described as ‘student-centered’. A sizeable body of research on

‘student-centered’ constructivist teaching conducted at that time provided prescriptions of what

good teaching is and is not (see fuller discussion in Richardson, 2003). Such prescriptions were

then used by education reformers to lobby the new alternative ‘student-centered’ teaching

(Rosen, 2003; Anderson-Levitt, 2003) to finally address the perennial problem of student

underachievement in the United States. This then placed ‘student-centered’ forms of teaching (i.e.

constructivist teaching, learner-centered instruction, learning-centered pedagogy, and active

learning among others) against those modes of instruction which education reformers point to

as the culprit of the intractable issues of student disengagement and underachievement—direct

instruction and explicit instruction (see Roshenshine, 1986; Goeke, 2009). The education

reformers who sharply contrasted ‘student-centered’ forms of teaching against these two long-

standing modes of instruction created a presumed binary between good and bad teaching. Since

then, the modes of instruction long established before the introduction of ‘student-centered’

constructivist teaching have been positioned and categorized as ‘traditional’ and ‘teacher-

centered’.

The now so-called ‘traditional’ teacher-centered teaching carries with it some notions of

‘bad teaching’ given the negative associations assigned to it by those who advocate student-

centered forms of teaching. The label ‘traditional’ however is, as Rosenshine (1997) strongly

contests, “politically and romantically incorrect” (in Goeke, 2009, p. 3) especially that behind

teacher-centered teaching (i.e. Direct Instruction) is a long line of successful research in the 1970s

and 1980s which developed ‘effective teaching’ (Schug, 2003). Effective teaching according to

these studies reported to favor research-based practices that produce stronger academic

achievement when implemented properly in the classroom. A strong advocate of teacher-

centered instruction, Schug (2003) in his counter critique of studies which favor ‘student-

centered’ approaches in teaching, asserts that

teacher-centered instruction has again and again proven its value in studies that show it to be an especially effective instructional method. Yet, when self-appointed education leaders meet to share best practices or write about effective teaching, teacher-centered instruction … gets no respect (p. 94).

The caricatures of teacher-centered teaching under the labels which Rosenshine (1997)

and Schug (2003) regard as misleading and incorrect, arises from various criticisms raised in

recent studies that promote student-centered forms of teaching. These criticisms, which are

organized into sections where a brief discussion of the history of ‘teacher-centered’ instruction is

50

also provided, can be categorised into three major themes, namely: (1) the teacher-centered

instruction results in underachievement among students; (2) the passive role of student under

teacher-centered instruction stifles the development of higher-order thinking skills; and most

importantly, (3) the active role of the teacher as classroom authority leads to student

disengagement.

‘Teacher-centered instruction does not result in student underachievement’

In his book with colleagues S. Tarver and R.D. Western, Direct Instruction and teaching of early

reading, and in his critical essay, Teacher-centered Instruction, Schug (2001; 2003) strongly

refuted the claims that teacher-centered instruction leads to student underachievement. Schug

(2003) argues that such claims are erroneous and misleading given that there is no available

strong evidence that directly links teacher-centered teaching to student disengagement and

underachievement. On the contrary, as Schug (2003) emphasized, a long line of research has

found these teaching approaches labeled as ‘teacher-centered’ effective for particular learners

and contexts. Teacher-centered instruction originates from two distinct lines of scholarship,

research, and curriculum development (Schug, 2003). The first is an approach widely referred to

as Direct Instruction which is associated primarily with the work of Siegfried Engelmann and his

colleagues, whose research focused predominantly on reading. The other line of scholarship is

associated with the ‘process-outcome’ research of Barak Rosenshine and his colleagues who

developed a model called direct instruction which identified instructional strategies from

available research from the 1970s until early 1990s that when practised result in higher student

achievement (Schug, Tarver, & Western, 2001).

Engelmann’s Direct Instruction

Direct Instruction is an instructional approach from the behaviorist learning tradition (Becker,

Englemann, Carnine, & Rhine, 1981). The curriculum and practice of Direct Instruction are based

on the operant conditioning theory, which states that to bring about a regular occurrence of a

behavior, it must be reinforced. Direct Instruction therefore requires a teacher to give verbal

lecture and strategies involving clear explanations, questions and answers, review, drill and

practice, and corrective feedback (Engelmann & Carnine, 1982) to elicit the desired behavior

which is learning. Based on the research on ‘effective teaching’, teachers who use Direct

Instruction continue to practice its strategies beyond the point where students make less and less

errors until overlearning has occurred (Engelmann & Carnine, 1982).

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It is important to note that Englemann’s Direct Instruction is developed from research

which closely analysed the comprehension and reasoning skills needed for successful

performance of a student in reading (Schug, 2003). This is a major reason why Direct Instruction

is largely practised in the 1980s to teach reading and phonemic awareness particularly in English.

Perhaps the most well-known Direct Instruction lesson format is the DISTAR Reading Mastery

(Engelmann & Bruner, 1998). In her book, Explicit Instruction: A framework for meaningful direct

teaching, Goeke (2009) discussed how Engelmann and colleagues’ Direct Instruction lesson

format called for the use of highly-ritualized, scripted, and phonics-based system of reading

instruction. For successful learning to occur under Direct Instruction, as Goeke (2009) noted, a

complete mastery of each reading skill must be achieved by each student before proceeding to a

new skill. It is from this lesson format of DISTAR Reading Mastery that Direct Instruction become

known as an effective way of teaching. The practice of Direct Instruction requires two critical

elements for it to be effective— an efficient use of time and active student practice of content. To

be efficient in time would then require a high level of teacher control to achieve the learning goal

because under Direct Instruction, the degree of learning that occurs is directly related to the time

a student is actively engaged in learning the content. While it has been criticized for being overly

rigid and routinized given the high level of teacher control required, Direct Instruction has

established itself as a research-supported instructional model effective for particular learners

and context, including those with mild to moderate learning disabilities (Engelman & Carnine,

1982; Schug, Tarver, & Western, 2001; Schug, 2003; Goeke, 2009).

In their book, Research on direct instruction: 20 years beyond DISTAR which reported the

results of their meta-analysis of research spanning over 25 years, Adams and Engelmann (1996)

found that a large body of research attests to the effectiveness of Direct Instruction as an

instructional model. In their comprehensive review of the available research from 1972 to 1996,

Adams and Engelmann (1996) identified 34 studies in which Direct Instruction strategies were

compared to other teaching strategies. Adams and Engelmann’s (1996) meta-analysis of the data

from these 34 studies show that large positive gains from Direct Instruction of student

achievement in a variety of subjects including reading, spelling, mathematics, and science. Adams

and Engelmann (1996) also found in the research that elementary and secondary students from

both mainstream and special education were reported to achieve significantly when taught under

Direct Instruction.

The effectiveness of Direct Instruction extends far beyond the teaching of reading. By the

mid 1980s, an increasing number of research were conducted to identify more specific practices

and techniques under Direct Instruction that result in academic success among students. From

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here, the second line of research in teacher-centered instruction was developed through the

works of Barak Rosenshine and his colleagues.

Rosenshine’s model of ‘effective teaching’ under direct instruction

The second line of scholarship under teacher-centered instruction is based on a synthesis of

findings among experimental and correlational studies conducted by many different researchers

working independently in the 1980s (Schug, 2003). Correlational studies at that time found a

relationship between student achievement and teacher’s use of specific instructional practices

that are aligned to Engelmann’s Direct Instruction (Goeke, 2009). On one hand, experimental

studies in the 1980s report significant findings after teachers were trained to use specific ‘direct

instruction’ strategies. The effects of these strategies on student achievement whose teachers

were trained in direct instruction strategies were compared with those students whose teachers

were not (Schug, 2003). From these teacher-effects research in the 1980s, common ‘teaching

functions’ (see Rosenshine & Stevens, 1986) associated with improved student learning were

identified and combined into a set of models of direct instruction which then refers to the

“systematic, explicit teaching of skills and strategies” (Goeke, 2009, p. 6).

Explicit teaching practices become the focus of study of Barak Rosenshine and Robert

Stevens in their published work in the Handbook of Research on Teaching in 1986. In this study of

Rosenshine and Stevens (1986), they reviewed several empirical studies which focused on key

instructional behaviors of teachers that result in higher academic achievement of their students.

‘Effective teachers’ are, as Rosenshine and Stevens (1986) described, those teachers whose well-

structured lessons and instructional behaviors are effective in raising student achievement.

‘Effective teachers’ use techniques that emphasised their roles in maximizing the time their

students are actively engaged in learning (Rosenshine & Stevens, 1986). The techniques of

‘effective teachers’ include this systematic set of practices: (1) introducing the lesson by

reviewing previous learning; (2) presenting students of learning objectives and success criteria

of performance; (3) building student commitment and engagement in learning by grabbing

students’ attention through a ‘hook’ or motivating activity followed by teaching in small steps

with student practice after each step; (4) giving clear and detailed explanations and instructions

though inputs (use of lectures, videos, pictures, etc.), modeling, and checking of student

understanding; (5) ensuring all students in the class to experience high level of successful

practice; (6) asking series of questions and obtain responses from all students; (7) checking

student comprehension and providing guided initial practice; (8) providing systematic and

immediate corrective feedback; (9) providing explicit instruction and practice for seatwork

exercise; and (10) monitoring students during seatwork (Schug, 2003; Goeke, 2009; see fuller

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description in Hattie, 2009). ‘Effective teachers’ of younger students may complete these steps in

a single class period using informal assessments at the end while ‘effective teachers’ in higher

grades may take days to complete these steps then end in formal evaluation or summative tests

(Goeke, 2009). This orderly progression is what characterizes direct instruction at any grade level

and in any subject (Goeke, 2009). Such a systematic instructional model of direct instruction must

be, as proponents of Direct Instruction suggest, precisely implemented for it to be effective

(Schug, 2003). While it has been criticized for its overly rigid and scripted instructional model, it

is in this very characteristic that Direct Instruction has proven its effectiveness in ensuring

students with high level of successful learning and academic achievement (Gage & Needels, 1989).

Years later, building on the works of Roshenshine and Stevens, a series of ‘process-

outcome’ studies were conducted. In one of these studies, Jere Brophy and his colleagues in their

studies spanning from 1973 to 1979 found that some teachers got consistently good results while

others did not. In observing teachers associated with good and poor academic outcomes, they

found that ‘effective teachers’ (1) maintain a sustained focus on content; (2) encourage the

involvement of all students in classroom discussions; (3) manage time efficiently by maintaining

a brisk pace; (4) teach skills to the point of overlearning; and (5) provide immediate feedback

(Schug, 2003). Finally, in a separate series of ‘process-outcome’ studies that spanned the period

from 1960s to 1980s which were reviewed by Gage and his colleagues at Standford University,

they found that effective teachers (1) introduce materials with an overview or analogy; (2) use

review and repetition, (3) give positive reinforcements and praise students; (4) ask challenging

but reasonable questions; and (5) give variety of assignments that offer practice (Schug, 2003).

In the succeeding years, more and more ‘process-outcome’ research have been conducted and

focused on ‘effective teaching’ practices that result in high academic achievement of students.

In his book Visible Learning which synthesizes over 800 meta-analyses relating to student

achievement, John Hattie (2009) discussed how Direct Instruction has become a very successful

approach in accelerating students’ academic performance as first outlined by Adams and

Engelmann (1996). Direct Instruction, as Hattie (2009) puts it, “has a bad name for the wrong

reasons, especially when it is confused with didactic teaching, as the underlying principles of

Direct Instruction place it among the most successful outcomes” (p. 205). In reviewing the

available literature on Direct Instruction and other instructional approaches reported to have the

highest effects on student learning as well as observing ‘best teachers’ in the United States, Hattie

(2009) concludes that there appears “no deep secret called teaching and learning” (p. 25). In

classrooms under ‘effective teachers’, Hattie (2009) notes, teaching is visible in the passion

displayed by the teacher— “it was clear who was in control in those classrooms. The activity was

54

visible and ‘in the air’ (p. 26). Similarly, learning under ‘effective teachers’ is visible, too, as

students experience a high level of success when they are actively engaged in activities. There

could be no possible room for passive learning under these ‘effective teachers’, as Hattie (2009)

claims, “learning was not always loud and heated but it was rarely silent and deadening” (p. 26).

Effective teaching practices under Direct Instruction models therefore aim to develop visibly

active learners instead of passive ones. From this point raised by John Hattie (2009) that we

proceed to the second major criticism against teacher-centered instruction.

‘Teacher-centered instruction does not turn students into passive learners’

This criticism against teacher-centered instruction which claims that it turns students into

passive recipients of information arise from the notion that Direct Instruction only develops rote

memorization and low-thinking skills. In dispelling such a notion, Goeke (2009) discusses the way

in which Direct Instruction assists students in acquiring basic thinking skills which lay the

groundwork for the development of the higher and deeper forms of thinking. It is important to

acknowledge that ‘lower-order thinking skills’ are, as Goeke (2009) argues, critically essential

skills for students to develop before they can actually acquire higher-order thinking skills. Lower-

order thinking skills are basic skills; thus, without properly establishing these foundational

thinking skills, the building of critical reasoning, problem solving, and other higher-order

thinking skills becomes very challenging. Therefore, it is important to acknowledge that in most

classrooms, as Goeke (2009) claims, “many students actually need instruction that is explicit,

directive, and intense, especially as they work to acquire basic skills and strategies” (p. 4). It is in

this premise that Direct Instruction provides its students with a strong foundation where higher

thinking skills can be built on. Therefore, mastery of basic skills is critical under Direct

Instruction. To achieve this mastery of basic thinking skills, students under Direct Instruction are,

as Goeke (2009) explains, provided with explicit teacher-led demonstration of skills punctuated

with questions to check student understanding. It is believed that under Direct Instruction,

‘effective teachers’ can minimize student errors by breaking instruction down to smaller steps

and providing students with guided and highly-monitored practice to achieve mastery. In this

way, the teacher can correct errors before these become part of the students’ repertoire (Goeke,

2009). When student responses are accurate, quick, and confident, the teacher then moves on to

a new question and topic where the momentum of learning is maintained. It is in this teacher-led

instructional format of Direct Instruction in which students are viewed as a recipient of

information (Goeke, 2009) when in principle, the students are actually equipped with the core

foundational competencies where higher-forms of learning can be built on.

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When students reach the point of mastery or when overlearning has occurred

(Engelmann & Carnine, 1982), they can be introduced to the next higher set of thinking skills.

Otherwise, re-teaching is done followed by monitoring and guided practice until finally mastery

is achieved (Goeke, 2009). In this way, Direct Instruction provides students with tasks of orderly

progression where they are guided accordingly to acquire the needed set of thinking skills

required for each level of cognitive development. One method under Direct Instruction which

does just that is Reciprocal teaching, which Rosenshine and Meister (1994) defined as an

instructional procedure designed to teach students cognitive strategies that could lead to

improved academic outcomes (initially in reading). The phrase ‘reciprocal teaching’ comes from

the ‘dialogue between the teacher and students’ where the teacher actively guides the students

how to practice cognitive strategies such as summarization, question generation, clarification, and

prediction to assist them in gaining meaning of the content being learned (Rosenshine and

Meister, 1994). The cognitive strategy, question generation, later become the focus of the study of

Rosenshine, Meister, and Chapman (1996). In their review of intervention studies in which

students have been taught to generate questions as a strategy of improving their learning,

Rosenshine, et al. (1996) found that teaching students the cognitive strategy of ‘generating

questions’ are effective in helping students comprehend what they read, thereby training them to

acquire both surface understanding (literal and inferential comprehension) and deep

understanding (critical, evaluative, and reflective comprehension). Research following this work

of Rosenshine, et al. (1996) found that use of the cognitive strategy, question generation under

‘reciprocal teaching’, is an effective teaching practice in developing both basic and higher-order

skills of students, thereby increasing student outcomes not only in reading but also in

mathematics and science.

Given the success of Direct Instruction models of ‘effective teaching’ in promoting student

learning, the series of ‘process-outcome’ studies (also referred as ‘teacher effects’ research)

initiated by Brophy and colleagues which were built on Rosenshine’s direct instruction, continue

to flourish by mid 1990s providing wider literature on ‘effective teaching’. By the late 1990s, the

available literature on ‘effective teaching’ included international perspectives on teacher and

school effectiveness in promoting higher student outcomes. In his review of international

research on teacher effectiveness spanning over the past decades, Reynolds (1998) found that

‘effective teachers’ are active in asking a lot of questions and involve students in whole-class

discussion. Research on ‘effective teachers’ (based on American research conducted from 1960s

until mid 1990s) generated active teaching models which, as Reynolds and Muijs (1999) note,

approximate to the whole-class ‘interactive’ model of teaching mathematics that was the focus of

British national policy at that time. This interactive whole-class teaching, just like its precursor,

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Direct Instruction, received heavy criticisms in terms of how it is implemented in English schools

(see fuller discussion in Alexander, 2008).

In the study of Smith, Hardman, Wall, & Mroz (2004) which investigated the impact of the

official endorsement of interactive whole-class teaching on the interaction and discourse styles of

primary school teachers in England, they discussed several criticisms raised against this model of

active teaching. Interactive whole-class teaching, Smith, et al. (2004) noted, is claimed to promote

only rote memorization as teachers merely “ask series of unrelated teacher questions that require

convergent factual answers and pupils display of (presumably) known information” (p. 396).

Generally, the criticisms arise from how interactive whole-class teaching is used to solve the issues

surrounding the standards of literacy and numeracy in English primary schools (Smith, Hardman,

Wall, & Mroz, 2004). This issue heightened when the results of the Third International

Mathematics and Science Study (TIMSS) in 1999 showed that ‘British performance in

mathematics was poor’ (Reynolds & Muijs, 1999 in Smith, Hardman, Wall, & Mroz, 2004)

compared with other countries. One of these countries is Japan which is among the top-

performing participants in the 1999 TIMSS.

Whole-class teaching, on the other hand, is one of the “hallmarks of teaching” in Japanese

classrooms (Stevenson & Lee, 1995, p. 152). This teacher-led, direct whole-class teaching is also

found as a strongly practised and successful mode of teaching in Chinese classrooms particularly

in Hong Kong (Watkins, 2001; Watkins & Biggs, 2001; Fok & Watkins, 2008; Yeung, 2009). In their

classroom observations of mathematics classes in ten elementary schools in Tokyo, Stevenson

and Lee (1995) found that there is a common systematic pattern of teaching among Japanese

teachers. In maths classes, for instance, Japanese teachers, as Stevenson and Lee (1995) observed,

begin instruction by presenting a word problem and asking the students to discuss as a class the

meaning of that problem. The students are given a time to think and write their solutions. After

this, the teacher asks several students to show their solutions on the board and discuss with the

whole class how they solve the problem. The teacher also calls on other students to evaluate the

relevance and accuracy of what the first students have discussed. This interaction within the

whole class allows the teacher to develop higher-order thinking skills in their students as they

are required to produce, explain, and evaluate the solutions to maths problems.

Teacher-led direct whole-class teaching is also found effective in encouraging students to

think in the series of research by Watkins and colleagues in Hong Kong classrooms. Observing

that Chinese culture has emphasised more teacher-centered methods in their teaching, Fok &

Watkins (2008) claimed that “indeed, research in Hong Kong has shown that classrooms

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described by students as ‘teacher-led’ were more likely to encourage deeper level approaches to

learning” (p. 3). While countries such as UK have tended to reject direct whole-class teaching as

it is disputed to promote rote memorization, Chinese teachers and students, as Watkins (2001)

reported, believe that high quality learning outcomes usually require memorization and

understanding. These two thinking processes, Watkins (2001) explained, are seen

complementary in Chinese classrooms. From a research Watkins conducted in Hong Kong with

colleague Dahlin in 2000, findings from in-depth interviews with high school students in Hong

Kong suggest that ‘repetition’ is perceived to be useful in two ways. First, repetition is used to

create a ‘deep impression’ on student learning. Second, repetition is used to develop or deepen

understanding by discovering new meaning (Dahlin & Watkins, 2000). A similar observation is

made by Yeung (2009) who explored ‘rote learning’ of Hong Kong students through case studies

of teachers from two different schools in Hong Kong. Qualitative data from Yeung’s (2009) study

led her to conclude that the emphasis of ‘rote learning’ in the mode of teaching in Hong Kong (i.e.

teacher-led whole class instruction) can be explained by the culture’s inclination toward the

ideology of academic rationalism. Such ideology, as Yeung (2009) raised, stresses the value of

rote learning in developing students’ intellect and in supporting student achievement in the

context of Chinese education.

What appears common in the separate studies of Fok and Watkins (2008), Dahlin and

Watkins (2000), and Yeung (2009) is that Chinese classrooms emphasised more teacher-led

whole-class instruction, “with the teacher regarded as an authority not to be questioned” (Fok &

Watkins, 2008, p. 3). The way these studies discussed whole-class teaching in the contexts of

Chinese classrooms highlights the role of the teacher as the director of learning, which is valued

as an effective ‘teacher-centered’ strategy that brings about deeper forms of learning. This active

role of the teacher in the learning process however is a particular target of criticisms among those

who promote student-centered forms of teaching as it is claimed to result in disengagement

among many students, which now brings us to the third and last major criticism against teacher-

centered instruction.

‘Teacher-centered practices do not lead to student disengagement’

The emphasis on the active role of a teacher as a classroom authority under teacher-centered

instruction is a particular target of criticisms among proponents of learner-centered education.

This is because, as learner-centered advocates raised, teacher authority underlies issues of power

in the classroom (see Weimer, 2002). Such power concentrated upon the teacher as the classroom

authority arguably poses a threat in creating a supportive democratic learning environment.

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Heavy emphasis on teacher authority is claimed to impose classroom rules for punishment rather

than discipline (Crumly, Dietz, and d’Angelo, 2014); stress teacher control and reliance on

textbooks (Cuban, 1983); reduce opportunities for social interaction and cooperative learning

where higher cognitive functions are developed (Cohen & Lotan, 2006); obstruct positive

student-teacher relationships (Cornelius-White & Harbaugh, 2010); and disempower students in

regulating their own learning (Weimer, 2002). Student disengagement therefore results in this

restrictive ‘teacher-centered’ and ‘authoritative’ classroom environment.

Within the tradition of ‘process-outcome’ (or process-product) series of research on

‘teacher effects’ and ‘student achievement’ initiated by Siegfried Engelmann, then later expanded

by Jere Brophy and colleagues, teacher authority or classroom leadership holds its centrality in

the context of classroom management where effective leadership styles (i.e. authoritative

classroom management) is a significant factor in student engagement and learning. In his

comprehensive review of the history of classroom management published as a chapter in the

Handbook of Classroom Management edited by Evertson and Weinstein (2006), Jere Brophy states

that the ‘process-outcome teacher effects’ studies extended the findings from the early (more

generic) research on classroom management which supported the conclusion that authoritative

leadership is preferable to the extremes of either authoritarian or laissez-faire leadership styles.

Among the early research on classroom management is the study of Lewin, Lippit, and White

(1939) on leadership and social climate where groups of boys were supervised by three different

contrasting leadership styles. These leadership styles are authoritarian (leader makes all policies,

gives systematic instructions, and praises or blames boys individually); democratic (leader

negotiates policies with boys through group discussion, encourages boys to carry out task but

with input from the leader as the resource person, leader is task-focused and impersonal in

praising or criticizing the boys’ progress), and laissez-faire (boys left on their own to determine

what to do and how to do it). Findings show that boys under the leader who used democratic

leadership style were the most responsive and participative in working in groups and were able

to demonstrate sustained engagement in group tasks. This democratic style, Brophy (2006)

noted, was not actually democratic in the sense of the word but was very similar to the style that

Baumrind (1971) later characterized as ‘authoritative’.

Later, as Brophy (2006) further discussed, the 1950s and 1960s ushered in a large body

of studies on teacher leadership styles which identified specific teacher actions and behaviors

that have positive effect on student learning. By the late 1960 until the 1980s, researchers

particularly those in the behaviorist tradition focused explicitly on classroom management.

Finally, research by Jacob Kounin (1970) extended the findings from these early works to the

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classroom. Known for his concept of withitness which suggests that effective classroom managers

are like ‘teachers having eyes in the back of their heads’, Kounin (1970) suggests that teachers

must be aware of what is happening in all parts of the room at all times. With such withitness,

teachers are able to nip potentially disruptive behaviors in the bud without having to allow for

these to develop or wait for these to fade through nonreinforcement (Brophy, 2006). Behaviorists

eventually polished this complex role of reinforcements in classroom management through the

works such as that of David Premack and colleagues. Preferred behaviors or tasks of students, as

Premack (1965) claims, can be used as rewards or reinforcements for less preferred behaviors

or tasks. For instance, should a student choose not to work on his current writing assignment but

wish to start his project for a school club instead, the teacher could make this proposal to the

student, “if you work on your writing now, I will give you extra fifteen minutes to your time on

your project and you can even make this project along with your friends after class”. This premise

later becomes the Premack’s Principle or which classroom teachers refer as ‘grandmother’s rule’

which are used to effectively manage not necessarily student behaviors but most importantly,

student engagement in classroom activities.

The works of behaviorist researchers such as David Premack and Jacob Kounin are

further extended in the later ‘process-outcome’ research and in the more recent ‘effective

teaching’ studies which then focused on teacher practices especially those under classroom

management that have positive effect on student learning and achievement. For instance, among

the ‘process-outcome’ research is the study of Evertson and Emmer (1982) which found a positive

relationship between ‘teacher management behaviors’ and ‘student engagement rates’. Based on

their one year-long classroom observations in 11 junior high schools in an urban school district,

Evertson and Emmer (1982) identified two groups of 13 junior high school mathematics and

English teachers who were effective in their classroom management practices. These practices,

as summarized in Brophy (2006), can be categorized into four, namely: instructing students in

rules and procedures (effective managers described their rules explicitly, completely, and

systematically which includes not only the don’ts but also the dos); monitoring student

compliance with rules (effective managers intervened to correct inappropriate behavior and

provide immediate feedback); communicating information (effective managers were clear in

giving directions and stating objectives by breaking down complex tasks into step-by-step

procedures); organizing instruction (effective managers wasted little time accomplishing

transition between student activities, maximized student attention and engagement by using

other techniques identified by Kounin, 1970).

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On one hand, within the long line of studies on ‘effective teaching’, Marzano and Marzano

(2003) for instance, in their meta-analysis of research on teacher actions in the classrooms and

student achievement from the late 1980s to 1990s, found that teachers who practice effective

classroom management have the high positive impact on student achievement. Many other

succeeding works of Robert Marzano and colleagues on ‘effective teaching’ (e.g. Marzano &

Pickering, 2011; Marzano, Marzano, & Pickering, 2003) suggest the use of research-based

classroom management strategies to highly engage students in their learning. While scholarly

works which can be considered as the earliest studies on classroom management (i.e. Bagley,

1907) focus more on students’ good conduct and compliance to classroom rules, the focus shifted

in the later studies under the ‘process-outcome teacher effects’ scholarship whose research on

Direct Instruction and teacher-centered instruction originate. Process-outcome research on

classroom management (Anderson, Evertson, & Brophy, 1979; Evertson & Emmer, 1982) focused

on managing student engagement in activities (learning) rather than managing student behavior

(conduct) as emphasised in the research conducted in the pre-empirical era (1990s to early

1960s). Thus, the criticism that teacher-centered practices (including those under classroom

management) leads to student disengagement is technically thrown at the wrong line of

scholarship especially that this very line of ‘process-outcome’ research focused on teaching

practices that have been found effective in increasing student engagement.

Today’s ‘teacher effects’ research

The classroom management and teacher effects studies under the process-outcome teacher-

effect scholarship in the 1960s and 1970s produced a rich body of replicated and extended

findings, so that 20 years later, research still reported good support for the leadership styles and

techniques identified by Jacob Kounin and Carolyn Evertson and Edmund Emmer (Brophy, 2006).

With the changing times in the late 1990s, research on teacher effects on student engagement and

achievement included international perspectives. With the complexities of varied contexts and

cultures come the call for more exploratory studies to capture multiple views of reality in terms

of teaching practices and leadership styles that bring about student achievement and engagement

in a given context. The use of classical experimental methods, Brophy (2006) noted, is not feasible

anymore given such complexities. Recent research either use mixed methods to compare teacher

practices that increase student outcomes or adopt qualitative methods to provide thick and rich

descriptions of what is perceived as effective teaching practices. Among these recent research are

the studies of Weinstein and colleagues whose works dating back the 1980s have expanded and

deepened the understanding of ‘effective teaching’ by exploring teacher beliefs and student

perceptions.

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In line with the process-outcome teacher effects scholarship, Carol S. Weinstein’s (1989;

1998; 2003) research include studies grounded in ethnographic, narrative, and

phenomenological approaches to research that enabled them to capture the complex interplay

among instructional practices, classroom management styles, student and teacher perspectives,

and learning outcomes. With the inclusion of student perceptions and teacher beliefs, Weinstein

and colleagues’ line of qualitative studies pushed the boundaries of understanding teaching from

effective teaching strategies to more specific teaching practices perceived good by students and

teachers. In today’s research on effective teaching is an increasing number of studies which

include student perceptions of ‘good teachers’.

In her Handbook of Classroom Management published in 2006, Carol S. Weinstein with

colleague Anita Woolfolk Hoy reviewed studies on classroom management which examined

student perceptions of ‘good teachers’ as effective managers. In these studies, Weinstein and

Woolfolk Hoy (2006) found three factors central to students’ perception of ‘good teachers’, which

are (1) the ability to establish positive interpersonal relationships with students; (2) the ability to

exercise authority and to provide structure without being rigid, threatening, and punitive; and (3)

the ability to ‘make learning fun’ by using innovative and creative pedagogical strategies (p. 183,

emphasis added). These three factors, as Weinstein and Woolfolk Hoy (2006) observed, appear

repeatedly in qualitative studies on students’ perceptions and attitudes including an earlier study

of Weinstein in 2003. In this study, Weinstein (2003) found that the second factor—teachers who

exercise authority without being punitive—is particularly significant in the students’ perception

of ‘good teachers’. In interviewing elementary and secondary students from urban and suburban

schools, Weinstein (2003) found that students desire for structure and limits in the classroom. As

part of their perceptions of ‘good teachers’, the students report that

teachers need to be a strong authority figure; teachers need to tell kids what they expect; teachers need to show strength; teachers need to come off as someone who has control" (Weinstein, 2003 cited in Weinstein and Woolfolk Hoy, 2006, p. 185, emphasis added).

From these student perceptions of good teachers, it can be noted that the students place emphasis

on the control and strength a teacher should have as an authority. However, Weinstein and

Woolfolk Hoy (2006) explain that, “when students call for teachers to be stricter, they are thinking

of a particular kind of disciplinary practice” (p. 186). This means that students can distinguish

teachers who are unreasonably punitive versus strict caring teachers. While students demand for

their teachers to be tough and strict, they also desire for their teachers to show care for them. The

kind of care students perceive they need however depends on their individual backgrounds as

learners. For instance, among the student-perception studies Weinstein and Woolfolk Hoy (2006)

reviewed in the Handbook of Classroom Management, research (i.e. Phelan, Davidson, and Cao,

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1992) shows that high-achieving students associate caring from teachers who provide structure

in the classroom and assist them in academic matters, whereas low-achieving students recognize

care from teachers who listen to them and show concern in their personal lives. To recall, this

observation of Weinstein and Woolfolk Hoy (2006) aligns with the findings of Garza’s (2009)

study on Latino and White students’ perception of care, as discussed in the previous chapter on

learner-centered education. These “personal caring and academic caring” (Weinstein and

Woolfolk Hoy, 2006, p. 183) are recurring themes among recent studies that explore student

perceptions and classroom management. Weinstein and Woolfolk Hoy (2006) also observed that

findings in these recent studies supported a conclusion that students who are marginalized

perceive care from teachers who are concerned about their home lives, personal problems, and

futures (personal care). Successful students, in contrast, tend to value teachers who care for their

academic work and help them attain good grades (academic care), though they emphasise that

they want the respect of the teacher as well. This means that teachers, according to students’

perceptions of ‘good teachers’ as effective managers, use their authority to establish structure and

order in the classroom making it an environment that is supportive of student engagement and

learning—which is exactly what classroom management is for as shown early on in the process-

outcome teacher effects studies of Anderson, Evertson, and Brophy (1979) and Evertson and

Emmer (1982), the line of research which teacher-centered instruction belongs to.

Early studies of student engagement, mostly quantitative in nature, focused on the time

students were ‘actively participating’ (engaged) in a particular learning task (Goeke, 2009).

However, as the process-outcome teacher effects research develop over the 1990s especially with

international perspectives on student achievement and engagement, research methods become

more qualitative to capture the contextual and cultural complexities that influence teacher beliefs

and practices as well as student perceptions and their engagement. Researchers who investigate

classroom management and student engagement, as Brophy (2006) notes, see that it is no longer

possible to hold constant everything else that is known or suspected to affect student outcomes.

Today’s researchers understand that “classroom events are only partly controllable (or

even predictable) by the teacher, so much of good management involves adapting effectively to

emerging developments” (Brophy, 2006, p. 18). Moreover, given the increasing diversity of

today’s classrooms, research will have to take into account the ‘complexities of context and

culture’ in investigating classroom management and student engagement for two major reasons.

First, definitions and expectations of appropriate student behaviours, Weinstein, Tomlinson-

Clarke, Curran (2004) argued, are culturally influenced. This means that a teacher’s management

style which is perceived effective within a culture could be perceived otherwise in a different

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culture. In the same way that a specific student behavior might be perceived as disruptive or

disrespectful to one teacher of a different cultural background from the student while the same

behavior is accepted perfectly fine to a teacher of the same cultural background.

For instance, American teachers may find it disrespectful when Southeast Asian students

smile while being scolded if they are unaware that in their students’ culture, smiles are meant to

show an admission of guilt and their way to show that they will not resent their teachers who

scold them in class (Trueba, Cheng, & Ima, 1993, cited in Weinstein, Tomlinson-Clarke, Curran,

2004 ). Similarly, teachers of a different cultural background might conclude that Southeast Asian

students are passive and reluctant to participate in class discussions if they do not realize that

these students, who are expected in their culture to be modest of their achievements and

knowledge, may only recite or share their ideas upon request of the teacher (Sileo & Prater, 1998).

In the same way, when teachers do not realize how strongly Pacific Islander students value

interpersonal harmony, they could misinterpret the Hawaiian students’ kuka kuka (talk story)—

engaging in ‘getting to know you’ conversations while working in cooperative groups as being

noisy and unwilling to do the assigned tasks (Sileo & Prater, 1998) or wrongfully reprimand

Tongan students as they ‘pound together in unison’ (Trueba, Cheng, & Ima, 1993, p. 39) while

working in groups for being rowdy or misbehaving.

It is therefore critical in teacher effects studies particularly those which focus on student

perceptions of ‘good teachers’ as effective managers to examine how cultural nuances shape what

is valued as effective classroom management. Otherwise, the main goal which classroom

management seeks to attain; that is, student engagement, would be difficult to achieve especially

that ‘student engagement is also highly cultural’—which then signifies the second major reason

why today’s research will have to take into account the complexities of context and culture in

investigating classroom management and student engagement. While there are common

classroom situations that students find engaging, Livingston, Schweisfurth, Brace, and Nash

(2017) claim that these are not universal. Thus, what makes students participate and actively

engage in classroom activities may vary across different cultural contexts. Such active

engagement stems from cultural expectations of and respect for teachers (Livingston,

Schweisfurth, Brace, & Nash, 2017).

Recall for instance the qualitative studies of Fok and Watkins (2008), Dahlin and Watkins

(2000), and Yeung (2009) whose research findings support a conclusion that Chinese students

show high engagement under whole-class teaching, “with the teacher regarded as an authority

not to be questioned” (Fok & Watkins, 2008, p. 3). On the other hand, whole-class teaching, while

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a successful direct instruction strategy in promoting high levels of student engagement in East

Asian classrooms such as in Hong Kong and Japan (Stevenson & Lee, 1995), is a largely criticized

teaching approach for its poor effect on student engagement in English schools when it was

promoted under the education policy in UK in 1998 (see fuller discussion in Smith, Hardman,

Wall, & Mroz, 2004 and Alexander, 2008). Clearly, cultural issues also arise in implementation of

direct instruction, explicit teaching, and whole-class teaching—the now so called ‘teacher-

centered’ methods. This makes culture not just an issue of learner-centered education as I pointed

out in the previous chapter. As the recent studies on learner-centered education and teacher-

centered instruction I have discussed so far suggest that ‘effective or good teaching’ is influenced

by how it is perceived within a culture—how it fits the local ways of learning and cultural values

towards education. With the cultural elements behind student engagement and perceptions

towards good teaching, a study of teaching and its effect on learning must therefore situate itself

within a culture. An ethnographic study of teaching allows one to achieve this thereby making it

not just a study of teaching but, as Alexander (2008) puts it, a study of pedagogy.

Summary

In this chapter, I have discussed the criticisms raised by proponents of learner-centered

education against teacher-centered instruction and how these negative presumptions have led to

the labeling of Direct Instruction and its methods as ‘teacher-centered’. In this discussion, I have

argued that there is a need to trace the roots of this so called ‘teacher-centered instruction’ by

revisiting its theories, principles, and most importantly, its main purpose and practices according

to its proponents and how it was initially practised in the classroom at the time of its

conceptualisation. Such a revisit, as I have argued, is helpful in providing a balanced and more

informed view in examining closely the presumed dichotomy between learner-centered teaching

and teacher-centered instruction.

I have also examined Direct Instruction and effective teaching studies under a series of process-

outcome research (which are the origins of teacher-centered instruction), noting that like

learner-centered teaching, teacher-centered instruction is also supported by a long line of

successful ‘teacher-effects’ studies spanning 1960s to 1990s. I have discussed the specific

teaching strategies and practices which improve student achievement, develop basic learning

skills, and increase student’s academic engagement as shown by the ‘teacher-effects’ research. I

have discussed the counter critiques made by scholars under the process-outcome research

tradition and the way their arguments sought to dispel the negative presumptions of student

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underachievement, student passivity in learning, and student disengagement associated to

teacher-centered instruction.

I have outlined the development of ‘teacher-effects’ studies over the years, noting a shift of

research paradigms from classic experimental research in the 1960s until late 1980s to the more

recent qualitative exploratory studies. I have discussed the way in which these recent exploratory

teacher-effects studies support a similar conclusion that effective teaching methods (e.g. whole-

class teaching, reciprocal teaching) and ‘effective’ classroom management are understood and

valued differently across various cultural contexts. This discussion points to an important notion

that student engagement is highly cultural, and so too are the perceptions of students towards

good teaching. The centrality of culture in investigating teacher practices perceived as helpful in

engaging students have led to the adoption of more qualitative research methods to capture the

complex interplay of culture, teaching, and learning. I have argued that using culture as a lens to

examine the dichotomy between learner-centered teaching and teacher-centered instruction

could provide a deeper understanding of good teaching.

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C H A P T E R F O U R

Methodology

Introduction

This chapter details the methodology and the research design that inform the exploration of my

research questions in this thesis. The first section explains how a qualitative approach suits my

study. I also discuss the way in which a constructivist ontological assumption informed my choice

in using an ethnographic approach to investigate my research questions. The second section

discusses the way ethnography as a research approach allowed me to capture the complexities

within a ‘classroom culture’. This section also outlines the roles of an ethnographer. The third

section explains how I used the ethnographic methods of classroom observation, student focus

groups, and semi-structured interviews with teachers. The fourth section discusses the ethical

considerations that were taken into account during the conduct of this research. I outline some

of the ethical guidelines and protocols which I followed before, during, and after fieldwork.

It can be noted that in this chapter, there is only little detail provided about the two school settings

where this research was conducted as well as the student and teacher participants in the study.

This is because the profile descriptions of the research settings and the participants are detailed

in the data chapters—Chapter Five which provides a description of the urban school including

the socio-economic and demographic profile of the city where the school is located, and Chapter

Seven which describes the rural school—including its neighbourhood and surrounding

community. Consistent with the stylistic structure of presenting the context of fieldwork in

ethnographic studies, detailed descriptions of the research settings through narratives and

stories are provided in the data chapters rather than in this chapter to not only help contextualise

the study but also to create a stronger sense of immediacy in presenting the findings.

I conclude this chapter with a discussion of how I analysed the data I gathered from this research.

I explain the process of coding and analysing the interview and ethnographic data.

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Adopting a qualitative research approach

In a qualitative inquiry, researchers understand themselves to be investigating a “socially

constructed nature of reality, the intimate relationship between the researcher and what is

studied, and the situational constraints that shape inquiry” (Denzin & Lincoln, 2005, p. 10). With

such notion of reality being upheld, qualitative researchers approach the world with a set of ideas.

Denzin and Lincoln (2000) refer to that set of ideas as the framework (theory, ontology) that

signifies a set of questions (epistemology) that researchers examine in specific ways

(methodology, analysis). This then becomes the qualitative researcher’s paradigm, or the set of

beliefs and feelings about the world that informs how she will understand and study a

phenomenon. This paradigm shapes the research questions and informs the way the researcher

will represent the knowledge gathered. The nature of qualitative research supports the aim of my

research as I seek to explore what constitutes good teaching according to the observer, students,

and teachers within two different geographical and cultural school contexts in the Philippines—

one junior class in a disadvantaged public high school in a city center and another junior class in

a much poorer rural public high school in a rice-farming community. To achieve this aim, I

adopted a qualitative methodology which, as Denzin and Lincoln (2005) explain, is best suited for

studies which seek to provide understanding of complex settings such as the classroom.

To capture a situated understanding of the certain reality each teacher and a group of

students have about ‘good teaching’, I employed the ethnographic methods of classroom

observation, teacher interviews, and student focus groups. I observed teachers interacting with

students in their natural settings of the classroom to better make sense of how teachers

understand, practise, and value learner-centered teaching and teacher-centered instruction. I

used semi-structured interviews with individual teachers to investigate the meanings teachers

bring to their pedagogical choices. I engaged in conversations with students through focus groups

to gather their lived experiences about which of their teachers’ practices they perceived helped

them most in learning well.

Selecting the classes and participants

Consistent with the traditions of ethnography, the sampling technique in this study is both

purposive and opportunistic. The purposive element of my sampling had me select two different

types of school: one rural and one urban, each serving disadvantaged communities. Within the

two schools, my sampling was opportunistic, as I took the direction of the school principal, who

determined which class group and set of teachers I should study.

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In selecting a class in the rural school, I was designated by its school principal to observe

a junior class composed of mixed-level ability students aged thirteen to sixteen. It was explained

to me by the school principal that this grade-eight ‘section’ in the rural school is where the top-

performing junior students are placed and where master teachers (those who have master’s

degree or units in education and have been teaching in this rural school for at least five years) are

assigned to teach. There are 39 students in this class in the rural school, 22 boys and 17 girls.

There are eight teachers who teach eight different subjects in this class.

Similarly, in selecting a class in the urban school, I was also designated by its school

principal to observe a junior class which is one of the three ‘honours sections’ in the urban school.

This class is composed of 31 high-achieving students, 11 boys and 20 girls. These students in this

class have nine subject teachers who all have a master’s degree in education and have more than

ten years teaching experience.

A total of 17 teachers participated in this study; nine who work with the one observed

class in the urban school and eight who work with the one observed class in the rural school. The

nine teachers in the urban school, six females and three males, have teaching experience of not

less than ten years and are between the ages of 35 and 58. All these teachers have a master’s

degree in education. In the rural school, the eight teachers, two of whom are males, have either a

master’s degree in education or are currently doing their master’s studies. These eight teachers

in the rural school, who are between 31 and 60 years of age, have been teaching in this rural

school for more than five years. Five of these rural teachers are also residing within the village

where the rural school is located. All 17 teachers in this study agreed to participate in the

individual interviews.

From the 39 students in the rural school, only 32 students were given consent by their

parents to participate in the focus group interviews. Seven students (mostly eldest boys in the

family who were slightly older than the rest of the class) need to help in farm work during lunch

break and were expected to be home right after school due to home chores and additional farm

work. On one hand, in the urban school, all 31 students agreed to participate in the focus group

interviews with consent from their parents and class adviser.

Attempting to (co)construct multiple views of reality

In this qualitative research project, I did not simply observe and interview the participants. As

Denzin and Lincoln (2000) suggest, a qualitative researcher does more than just observe; she

‘takes part in the field’ of study, necessitating her direct and personal engagement with what is

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being studied. With this, I did not just observe but took part in the dynamics and experiences of

the participants in their natural setting. I set out to gather ‘thick descriptions’ and ‘rich insights’

from the people who are most knowledgeable about a culture and are able and willing to act as

representatives in revealing and interpreting the phenomenon that is under investigation

(Atkinson, Coffey, & Delamont, 2003).

My sustained presence as ‘observer-as-participant’ allowed me to gain more of an insider

perspective which then provided me with a holistic picture of the classroom culture. I did not just

interview the participants but engaged in conversations with individual teachers and listened to

the stories which students tell in groups. Given this, positivist researchers criticise qualitative

research as a highly subjective research design, where the assumptions, preconceived values,

theories, and perspectives of the researcher are presumed to stain the validity and reliability of

the study. These very assumptions of qualitative researchers, however, place them on a vantage

point as a credible human instrument for data collection and analysis (Merriam, 1998). Having

that it is impossible for investigators to abandon their preconceived values, theories, and

perspectives, it is crucial for me as the researcher to self-disclose such preconceptions and to

acknowledge and describe my entering and emergent beliefs and assumptions. This research

reflexivity allows readers to understand my position, and then to consider my preconceptions as

my research proceeds, which will establish the contribution of validity in my study (Creswell &

Miller, 2000). This is also why I begin with describing my ontological and epistemological

orientation, as these assumptions about the nature of reality influences the knowledge I represent

in my study.

Embracing a constructivist ontology: A ethnographic researcher’s paradigm

As a Filipino teacher (and a former public school student) myself, I am aware that my views about

teaching and learning (teaching philosophy) as well as the cultural systems I am within frame my

understanding of what good teaching is. Aside from these beliefs and views, there are other

factors beyond my awareness that may have influenced my pedagogical choices and practices.

From this stance as a practitioner is where I step back as researcher, understanding that the

teachers I met in my study, like me, have their own views and beliefs about teaching and learning.

Each teacher has his or her own way of understanding a certain reality about good teaching. Thus,

these perceptions of what they hold as good and effective in teaching—those practices which help

their students learn well—must be explored to understand the complexities of teaching and the

conditions of student learning within specific cultural and geographical places.

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My constructivist ontological assumption and my interest in teacher practices and

student reactions informs my choice to use an ethnographic approach to investigate my research

questions. As Fetterman (1989) maintains, ethnography is the “art and science of describing a

group or culture” (p. 11). It is a representation of the lived experience of a culture, seeking to

document the knowledge and belief systems that influence a group. Ethnographic approaches are

phenomenological and aim to understand human behaviour from the participants’ frames of

reference by systematically observing their recurring patterns of behaviour as they engage in

their regular activities (Bishop, 1999). Ethnographic methods suit my research questions as my

study seeks to explore what students and teachers understand as good teaching, to consider these

views in relation to teacher understandings of what constitutes effective learner-centered

teaching and teacher-centered instruction; and to consider these views in the context of my

observations of the practices used by the teacher respondents.

Ethnography and the ‘classroom culture(s)’

The use of ethnography as a method also allowed me to discover multiple truths according to the

students and teachers in my study, including myself as the researcher (Spradley & McCurdy,

1972). With this, it became necessary for me, as the researcher, to locate myself as an observer in

the “world of lived experience, where individual belief and action intersect with culture” (Denzin

& Lincoln, 2000, p. 8). Martin (1987) posits that within a classroom is a culture where its school

community shapes the beliefs, practices, and behaviours of teachers and students. Martin (1987)

further describes schools as communities within larger communities and classrooms are subsets

of schools. Within this culture, schools have their distinctive patterns of behaviour, attitude

towards teaching and learning, and “beliefs about education and the roles of teachers and

students” (Martin, 1987, p. 20). Ethnography then allows me to immerse deeply in this culture of

teaching and learning in the school communities. Through the method of ethnography employed

in this study, I was able to recognise some cultural conditions of learning and the complexities of

teaching within a classroom whilst I sought to identify those teacher practices which Filipino

teachers and students perceive as good and effective. Ethnography has then also been selected to

allow me to identify and examine the cultural factors that shape, limit, and reinforce the

pedagogical choices and practices of teachers within the two schools in this study.

Roles of an ethnographer

Fetterman (1989) describes an ethnographer as a storyteller, a scientist, and a human

instrument. The ethnographer is interested in understanding the culture from the emic, or

insider’s perspective. The closer the readers of ethnography are to understanding the insider’s

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point of view, the better the story and the science. To achieve this, ethnographers attempt to gain

a comprehensive and holistic picture of a social group by exploring rich, untapped sources of data.

Bishop (1999) suggests that in order to gather such rich and thick descriptions, an ethnographer

has to use more than one method, requiring multiple measures for data collection and

triangulation. Noting Bishop’s (1999) suggestions, I used the ethnographic methods of classroom

observation, semi-structured interviews, and focus groups to optimize the methodological rigour

of my study. These multiple methods provide me, as the ethnographer, with various opportunities

to have purposive conversations with both teachers and students in order to obtain information

and understand the reasons behind their perceptions of good teaching towards a certain

instructional practice or teacher behaviour. In the subsequent sections, I describe how each of

these three ethnographic methods were used in this study.

‘Getting into the field’: time and duration

Fieldwork, as Fetterman (1989) explains, is the fundamental element and the heart of

ethnography. At its core, fieldwork, is a “long social process of coming to terms with a culture”

that necessitates the interaction between the researcher and the participants in her study within

their natural settings or the ‘field’ (Van Maanen, 1988, p. 117-18). The fieldwork for this study

was conducted in July until October 2015 within two public schools in the Philippines—Ciudad

High School (which I refer to as the urban school) and Barrio High School (which I refer to as the

rural school)—both a pseudonym. Given the geographical conditions in the province which these

two schools are located, I started my fieldwork first in the rural school in July (the school is close

to foot of the highest peak in the province) as student attendance drops during typhoon and rice

planting season starts in the last four months of the year. My fieldwork in the urban school started

in September, a time when the city culminates its annual religious festivities. This warrants that

the urban school resumes regular class schedules during this time of the year without further

typical disruptions or cancelations of classes, allowing for a productive fieldwork. Consistent with

the stylistic structure of presenting the context of fieldwork in ethnographic studies, a more

detailed description of these two schools, including their demographic and socio-economic

profiles, is presented in Chapter Five and Chapter Seven, through narratives and stories. This is

also purposely done so to create a stronger sense of immediacy as I contextualise my research

and present the findings of this ethnographic study. In the succeeding sections, I describe in more

detail the duration of my fieldwork in the two schools and how my use of in-depth interviews

with teachers, participant observation, and student focus groups optimized the methodological

rigour of my ethnographic study.

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Engaging in ‘conversations’ with individual teachers

To obtain a holistic picture of a culture, fieldwork in ethnography can be “optimized by the

deployment of participation, observation, and conversation” (Atkinson, Coffey, & Delamont, 2003

p. 100). Of these three methods, the conversations in the form of interviews is considered as the

heart of ethnographic studies because “they seek the words of the people we are studying, the

richer the better, so that we can understand their situations with increasing clarity” (Ely, Anzul,

Friedman, Garner, & Steinmetz, 1991, p. 58). Interviews are necessary for ethnographers to use

(Bishop, 1999) because these allow ethnographers to “learn to see the world from the eyes of the

person being interviewed” (Ely, Anzul, Friedman, Garner, & Steinmetz, 1991, p. 58). This

constructivist approach of ethnographic interviews allows the participants to be the teachers and

guide the researcher how to find meaning from the experiences being explored within the study

(Spradley & McCurdy, 1972).

To understand the meaning teachers place behind their pedagogical practices and

address the research question, how do teachers in a junior urban disadvantaged high school and in

a junior rural disadvantaged high school in the Philippines understand, value, and set out to practise

good teaching?, I conducted semi-structured interviews with 17 teachers, nine who work with the

one observed class in the urban school and eight who work with the one observed class in the

rural school. My interviews with individual teachers took place before, during, and after the

classroom observation phase of my fieldwork. The interviews I conducted before and during the

period of classroom observation lasted between 15 to 20 minutes. These interviews or

‘conversations’ (Atkinson, et al., 2003) were conducted to gather information about each teacher

but mainly for the purpose of establishing rapport with the teachers. Appendix A lists the set of

questions around which the pre-observation interviews with teachers were organised. Respectful

and ‘on-going relationships’ created through longer and more frequent interaction with

interviewees, as Heyl (2001) explains, distinguish ethnographic interviews from any other types

of interviews. This quality of relationship in ethnographic interviews allows for a genuine

exchange of views which then helps the interviewer gather rich, detailed data from the

participants themselves. The relationship between the interviewer and interviewee, as Heyl

(2001) further explains, “affects how the research topics and questions are approached,

negotiated, and responded to—indeed, how the co-construction of meaning takes place” (p. 382).

The interviews which I conducted by the time I completed my classroom observation in

each school lasted between 60 to 90 minutes. Individual interviews with teachers took place in

their respective classrooms which were made available for us to conduct interview. These semi-

structured interviews allowed me to ask teachers about what I observed in their classes. Most

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importantly, these provided me with the flexibility to follow any unexpected topics which the

teachers raised during the interview (Kvale & Brinkmann, 2009). Appendix B lists the set of open-

ended questions around which the interviews with teachers were organised. The interviews with

individual teachers however were not limited to these questions as I inquired further into what

they expressed and discussed during the interview, especially those topics concerning this study.

When required, I asked probing or follow-up questions to seek clarification for answers that were

unclear or necessitated further exploration (Kvale & Brinkmann, 2009). In order to allow for later

transcription and analysis, each interview with the 17 teachers in this study was audio-recorded

with the consent of the teachers.

While interviews are the central data-gathering method in ethnographic studies, they

however can limit the researcher in gathering rich data since the information comes from what

the participants think about what they do and not what they actually do. Hence, Atkinson, Coffey,

and Delamont (2003) argue that ethnographers cannot solely rely on interviews for information

about what people do. Therefore, they suggest combining interviews and participant observation

to gain a complete picture of a phenomenon and avoid the dualism between ‘what people do’ and

‘what people say’ (Atkinson, Coffey, & Delamont, 2003).

Observing the two classroom ‘cultures’

Participant observation allows the ethnographer to immerse into the culture and to interact with

the participants in her study. The ‘observer-as-participant’ role of an ethnographer also allows

her to interact casually with the subjects of her study while maintaining a researcher distance.

This way, as Fetterman (1989) explains, the ethnographer is provided with thick descriptions of

the phenomenon being studied from a more holistic angle. This is because the ethnographer who

employs “participant observation makes it possible to check descriptions against fact and, noting

discrepancies, become aware of systematic distortions made by the person under study; such

distortions are less likely to be discovered by interviewing alone” (Becker & Geer, 1970, p. 139).

To address the research question, to what extent are teacher and student views consistent

with what an observer sees as an effective use of learner-centered and teacher-centered

pedagogies?, I conducted classroom observation in the two schools in this study. The classroom

observation phase of my fieldwork lasted for three weeks in each school. I began my classroom

observation in the rural school in mid July until the end of August in 2015. Classes in this rural

school commence at 7:20 in the morning and end at 3:40 in the afternoon. The students stay in

the same classroom in seven of these subjects except during their Home Economics class which

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is held in a different school building. I spent about nine hours a day from seven in the morning

until four in the afternoon. I started the day by joining the students and their teachers in their

morning rituals which include cleaning the front lawn with brooms, watering the ornamental

plants in the school, scrubbing the floor with coconut husks, and attending the flag ceremony.

While classes were ongoing, I kept my interaction with the teachers and students to a minimum

unless I was invited to participate in the class activities or when a teacher engaged in a

conversation with me while her students were on a seatwork. During class breaks, I joined the

students while they had their snacks and lunch in the classroom or outside under the trees. I also

helped the students fetch water from a nearby well to wash the dishes. After their classes in the

afternoon, I stayed with the students who conducted a school club meeting in their classroom. I

also walked with the students as they went home. A more detailed description of this junior class

in the rural school is provided in Chapter Seven.

In the urban school, the classroom observation was conducted from early September until

mid October of 2015. I prolonged my fieldwork in the urban school given the unexpected

cancelation of classes when students were required to attend school-wide programs and local

events in the city. I spent about ten hours a day in the urban school. I joined the students as they

queued up for their daily flag ceremony at the school court then returned to their classroom for

their first class. While they were having their classes, I quietly observed the students and their

teachers, as on several occasions, they invited me to join in their group activities and class

discussions. The students stay in one classroom from their first ‘subject’ (or class) at 7:20 in the

morning until their last subject at five in the afternoon. During class breaks, I joined the students

as they took their snacks and lunch at the school canteen. After class hours, I stayed with groups

of students who were assigned as ‘cleaners of the day’ and helped them sweep or scrub the floor.

A more detailed description of this junior class in the urban school in provided in Chapter Five.

Taking fieldnotes

Consistent with my ‘observer-as-participant’ role as an ethnographer, I engaged in what Emerson,

Fretz, and Shaw (2001) describe as the core activity in ethnography and participant observation;

that is taking fieldnotes. As they note, participant observation does not only involve immersing

oneself in the natural settings under study, but also “producing written account and descriptions

that bring versions of these worlds to others” (Emerson, Fretz, and Shaw, 2001, p. 352, emphasis

in original). With this in mind, I engaged in “day-by-day writing up of fieldnotes” which record

my “observations and reflections concerning the ‘field’” (Atkinson, 1992, p. 5). I took note of what

teachers do in the classroom, what their teaching practices look like, what they talk about and the

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questions they ask, and how their students respond and behave while they teach. I also took note

of what the classroom looks like, the pauses and silence in the classroom, the looks on the

students’ face while doing an activity, the random day-to-day interaction between the students

and their teachers, and amongst students themselves, along with other minute details which took

my attention and interest as an observer. This way, my fieldnotes became written accounts which

captured a certain ‘reality’—that which is a ‘portion’ of my lived experience within the natural

(classroom) setting (Atkinson, 1992; Emerson, Fretz, and Shaw, 2001). Thus, an ethnographer

cannot claim that that fieldnotes provide a ‘complete’ record of an event. This is because, as

Atkinson (1992) explains, the ethnographer “writes about certain things that seem ‘significant’,

ignoring and hence ‘leaving out’ other matters that do not seem significant” (in Emerson, Fretz, &

Shaw, 2001, p. 353). The descriptive writing embodied in fieldnotes therefore reflects ‘particular

purposes and commitments’, those which frame the events observed, allowing for a more focused

sense-making, interpretation, and theorising (Emerson, Fretz, and Shaw, 2001). As the

ethnographer takes note of what she has seen, heard, and experienced while observing and

participating, the fieldnotes become the “expression of the ethnographer’s deepening local

knowledge, emerging sensitivities and evolving substantive concerns and theoretical insights”

(Emerson, Fretz, and Shaw, 2001, p. 355).

My sustained presence as ‘observer-as-participant’ in the two classes within two different

schools also helped cultivate rapport with the students and the teachers which allowed me to gain

better insight into ‘complexities of teaching’ and the ‘culture’ of learning within the two schools

(Alexander, 2008). This rapport was fostered through my interaction with the students and

teachers (i.e. joining the students in their morning rituals, helping students in their cleaning tasks,

participating in school activities and programs) assisted me in gathering richer data in the

subsequent phases of my data collection—the post observation interviews with individual

teachers and the focus group interviews with the students.

Listening to students’ stories in focus groups

In investigating what constitutes good and effective teaching, it is necessary that students’ voices

are included, which then requires listening to the ‘stories’ they tell (Rodriguez, 2008; Weinstein

& Woolfolk Hoy, 2006; Daniels & Perry, 2003; King, 2003; Schuh, 2004). In examining effective

learner-centered pedagogies, for instance, Daniels and Perry (2003) suggest that it is important

to consider the perceptions of students in exploring various dimensions of their teacher’s

classroom practices. This is because although teachers might report that they adopt a particular

teaching approach and while this may even appear true to an outside observer, the students’

actual experience may differ, or alternatively may validate such claims and observations.

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Students’ perceptions of their teachers’ practices therefore contribute richness and depth in

understanding what constitutes good teaching. In my study, these perceptions of students about

good teaching were explored through focus group interviews. While interviews are a powerful

tool to capture an individual’s conceptions about certain phenomenon, they can also be used to

understand a group’s perspective. Focus group interviews within an ethnographic study can be

used for triangulation purposes (Fontana & Frey, 2000). This is because focus group interviews—

systematic questioning of several individuals simultaneously in a formal or informal setting—are

useful as a means to discover the participants’ thoughts and how their perceptions compare with

others (Fetterman, 1989). More importantly, data triangulation, as Schuh (2004) explains, can

illuminate discrepancies that lead to interpretations that might not otherwise arise. For instance,

had she not employed data triangulation in her study on learner-centered practices and solely

relied on classroom observation without interviewing the teacher and his students, Schuh (2004)

would not have ‘captured’ how learner-centered principles can be ‘entwined’ in teacher-centered

practices. Therefore, as Schuh (2004) suggests, employing data triangulation should be

considered a “methodological necessity in every assessment and research study involving

complex learning environments to better capture the interplay among instructional practices,

student and teacher perceptions, and learning needs and outcomes” (p. 845).

To address the research question, which of the teacher practices do urban and rural

students find helpful in their learning?, I conducted a total of twelve focus group interviews with

the students who took part in this research (six focus group interviews in the urban school and

another six in the rural school). The primary aim of these focus group interviews was to explore

the students’ perceptions of good teaching by asking them about which practices of their teachers

they find most and least helpful in learning well. The focus group interviews with students from

both schools coincided with the third and final week of the classroom observation phase of my

fieldwork. The interviews lasted for one hour, with six to seven students in a group. These

interviews were conducted once a day in a span of one school week during lunch breaks as this

was the time most of the students were available to join the focus groups without missing a class.

All focus groups interviews were conducted in the classroom of the students. The

classroom was made available for us by the students’ class advisers so that the room became an

exclusive space for me and the six or seven students in each focus group. This allowed the

students to freely express their thoughts and move around the space (during focus group

activities) while the interviews were taking place. This created a comfortable environment that

encouraged both interaction and discussion among the students. In facilitating (and moderating)

these interviews with students, I followed the five stages which Finch and Lewis (2003)

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recommend when conducting focus groups. These are (1) setting the expectations and ground

rules; (2) individual introductions by each participant; (3) explaining the purpose of the focus

group; (4) exchanging ideas around the topic within the group; and (5) pacing down and

concluding the interview.

The focus group interviews I conducted with the students in the rural school were

completed across five days encompassing all of the 32 consenting students. I gave the students

the choice in which focus group (and corresponding day of the week) they wanted to join. I

conducted an extra focus group interview with a selected group of six of these 32 students to seek

clarification for answers which needed further exploration. This extra focus group interview with

the rural students was conducted after the classroom observation in the rural school was

completed.

In the urban school, all 31 students agreed to participate in the focus group interviews

with consent from their parents and class adviser. Similar to what I did in the rural school, I gave

the students in the urban school the choice of which focus group they wanted to join in. The focus

groups were completed across five days. I also conducted an extra focus group interview with a

selected group of six of the 31 urban students to further probe into answers they have given in

their previous focus groups but was cut short due to limitations of time. This extra focus group

interview was conducted when I completed my classroom observation in the urban school.

Engaging student responses in focus groups

My focus group interviews with students from both schools were not without challenges

especially that there were some students who were either shy in expressing their thoughts in a

group or who became easily bored in group interviews. As the participants in the focus groups in

my study were young adolescents, I used activity-oriented questions and incorporated projective

techniques and multi-task exercises. One of these activities required the students to write a word

or short phrases on ‘metacards’ (coloured strips of paper) describing the practices of their

teachers which they find most helpful (blue metacards) and least helpful (green metacards) in

learning. I asked each student to ‘share’ with the group what they had written on the metacards.

When all students in the focus groups were done with their ‘sharing’ (with me asking probing

questions from time to time), I asked them to place all their metacards on the floor and discuss

within their group which teacher practices they consider as the ‘top five’ most helpful and least

helpful in their learning. Another activity required all the students in the focus group to create a

simple installation art as a ‘team’ where they put together any random object in the classroom

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and use these objects to create a ‘mini-statue’ of their teacher whom they perceived as the most

helpful (“good”) teacher in their learning. As they ‘built’ this ‘mini-statue’, the students were

required to talk about who among their teachers is the one whom they perceived to have helped

them most in learning well in school. When the students were done, I asked them to say

something about their ‘mini-statue’ and who it represents. I also asked them to explain why they

chose a certain object (e.g. coconut fruit in the rural school; cell phone in the urban school) to

symbolically represent a specific part of the ‘mini-statue’ (e.g. head). Through these activities

(and the others which I introduced during the focus groups, as listed in Appendix C), I was able

to gather rich data about what they perceived as practices of good teaching as I listened to their

responses to my questions, to the stories they openly shared with the groups, and to the

discussion they had among themselves during the activities. Activity-oriented questions allowed

me to see elements that would have been neglected if the question was asked in a classical way.

During the focus group interviews, the students were seated in a circle at the center of the

classroom. This allowed them enough space to interact with each other during the interview and

move around during the short activities. With consent from each participant, I audio-recorded

the focus group interviews to allow for later transcription and analysis. I placed the recorder on

the arm rest of my chair while I was seated within the circle of the students. I also made it very

clear to the students that the only person who could listen to the recording is me and will be used

only for the purpose of my research. Consideration of these small details in the focus group

interviews with young adolescents encouraged a more open discussion and active interaction

among them, allowing me to gather rich and thick narratives about what these students perceive

as practices of good teaching. Appendix C lists the guide questions and activities during the focus

group interview.

Ethics of the study

Given the multifaceted roles of an ethnographer—a field researcher, an observer, an interviewer,

a storyteller—she may also encounter issues regarding how her presence during fieldwork may

influence the setting, or the possibility that in becoming too involved as a participant, one may

lose the capacity to critically observe (Atkinson, Coffey, & Delamont 2003). Thus, it is critical for

an ethnographer to ensure that her presence does not interfere unduly with the people and

activities under observation so as to not alter the flow of the interaction unnaturally (Angrosino

and Mays de Perez, 2000). Thus, it is imperative for me as the researcher that all participants in

my study are fully informed about my study and to ensure that the research process does not

unduly disrupt their regular lives.

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The students and their teachers were provided with Plain Language Statements and

consent forms, which informed them about the aims and the requirements of my research. I used

simple and easily comprehensible language (in English and dialect) in these Plain Language

Statements to outline the objectives of my research and orient the participants of their roles in

the project. The participants in this study were also fully informed of their right to withdraw at

any time, even after giving the consent. Informed consent for the students was obtained from

them, their parents, and their class adviser. The content of the Plain Language Statement was read

to the students prior to the conduct of focus group interviews to remind them that their

participation is voluntary and does not have any bearing on nor will affect their grades in school.

Consent for teachers were obtained from them and their school principal. Consent for the

research to be conducted in the two schools was obtained from the superintendent of the Division

Schools Office, the local unit of the Department of Education in the Philippines. Ethics approval

was gained from the University of Melbourne Human Research Ethics Committee.

Taking on the role of an observer-as-participant, I attempted to fit into the situation with

minimum disruption and did not engage in formal assessments or teaching. The students and

teachers were fully informed of the nature of my study, requiring my presence as a non-

interactive observer while class discussions and tests were on-going, but established rapport

during classroom and school activities upon the invitation of the teachers and students.

Arrangements were made to ensure that processes of my study posed no risks to the participants,

even to those who wished to withdraw participation. Anonymity of the participants and the

schools in the final write-up to prevent their identification was another ethical responsibility

undertaken. To assist in protecting the identities of the participants in this study, pseudonyms

were used for each teacher and student, including the name of their schools. However, given the

small sample size and the descriptive narratives made in this ethnographic study, it is likely that

other teachers and students in the schools in my study could identify the participants. This I have

fully and clearly communicated to the participants in my study prior to the conduct of interviews.

As a qualitative researcher, I am aware that commitment to an intensive and immersive

fieldwork in naturally-occurring settings and rigorous adherence to the standards of research

assist me to produce the thick and rich descriptions that ethnography requires. However, the

‘intrusive’ nature of ethnographic studies, and the prior positioning of the researcher, also poses

a potential threat not only to the validity and reliability of the study but also in ethics (axiological

orientation) of the research. I understand that the rigours of ethnographic study and its ethics are

equally fundamental to the conduct of any ethnographic research. Without both, as Atkinson,

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Coffey, Delamont (2003) clearly emphasised, “then we shall never bear those intellectual,

symbolic, and emotional competencies to a disciplined understanding of the social world about

us” (p. 115).

Data Analysis

In conducting this constructivist ethnographic research, the participants and I produced a

significant amount of data. The ethnographic data and the transcripts of both student and teacher

interviews were subject to detailed analysis. I personally transcribed verbatim and translated

from the recordings of all interviews, which added benefits to the data analysis. One is that when

the researcher who analyses the data also the conducts both the observation and interviews, as

Green and colleagues (2007) explain, the interpretation fully accounts for the research contexts

which then adds depth to data analysis. This fuller interpretation is made possible because the

researcher who also interviewed and observed the participants in her study witnessed “the

details that make up the interview context including hesitations, confidence in answering

questions, the tone of the participants as well as the shared experiences of researcher and

participants” (Green, Willis, Hughes, Small, Welch, Gibbs, & Daly, 2007).

In the first phase of the analysis, I conducted a thematic analysis of the ethnographic and

interview data. I analysed first the interview data which involved identifying every statement in

the transcripts that are related to my research question and then coding those statements. I

listened to the recordings of the interviews several times and repeatedly read the interview

transcripts. This allows a “detailed examination of what is said and stimulates a process where

one begins to ‘incubate’ ideas about the possibilities of analysis” (Green, Willis, Hughes, Small,

Welch, Gibbs, & Daly, 2007, p. 547).

A code in qualitative research, as Saldaña (2009) explains, is “a word or short phrase that

symbolically assigns a summative, salient, essence-capturing, and/or evocative attribute for a

portion of language-based or visual data” (p. 3). The coding process entailed segmenting the data

into small units (in one word or into phrases) which reflected a specific theme or ideas relevant

to the topic of the research. In the second stage of data analysis, I grouped together any similar

coded statements into categories. Then, I revisited the data particularly those relating to the most

significant categories to identify the underlying themes. Once themes were identified, a frequency

count of the responses (particularly those from the 63 student participants in this study) under

each thematic category. This was adapted from Heppner and Heppner’s (2004) guidelines in data

analysis where categories that emerged were separated into three types—general, typical, and

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variant. Those under a ‘general’ category suggests that almost all the participants indicated the

response. ‘Typical’ responses were stated by a quarter to half of the participants while those

under ‘variant’ were mentioned by only one to three participants. As to the identified themes,

these were constantly re-analysed. I compared themes in individual interviews then across other

interviews, then the categories were revisited on many occasions and further merged or taken

apart until final categories and underlying themes were identified. These themes were then

examined in the light of broader literature as I sought to locate these themes in a much more

extensive tradition of research literature investigating similar questions in other contexts and

settings. This process, as Green et al. (2007) describe, indicates the final step of data analysis

which requires the researcher ‘turn to the literature’ and link the results of her research “with

what we know about people in other settings” through “an explanation or, even better, an

interpretation of the issue under investigation” (p. 549, emphasis in original). After coding the

interview data, I used a similar process in analysing the ethnographic data where statements and

actions observed were also coded.

The systematic process of ‘making sense’ of a whole data set is far from being a linear

process, as Green, et al. (2007) further illustrate, and in many instances proves ‘messy’ because it

requires the researcher to move back and forth throughout the entire process of data analysis.

This was particularly the case with my fieldnotes and classroom observation which required me

to (re)visit the data, (re)code categories, and (re)name themes on many occasions. As I moved

back and forth through the transcripts and returned to my research question several times, codes

were added and the meaning of each code become refined as I also discovered more information

about my research topic. This process of repetition in data analysis, whilst time and energy

consuming, only deepens the level of interpretation of the data, giving the study a profound sense

of ‘meaning-making’ (Green, et al., 2007).

Summary

In this chapter, I have outlined the research design and methodology that I used in order to

answer my research questions. I have discussed the way in which the ethnographic methods of

classroom observation, student focus groups, and semi-structured interviews with individual

teachers allowed me to capture multiple realities that the participants in my study may have

about good teaching. I have also discussed the way in which ethnography as a research approach

provided me with a glimpse into the lived experiences of the students and teachers within their

classroom ‘cultures’, which then allowed me to gather rich and thick descriptions of data. Matters

about ethics and the steps I undertook to ensure minimal risks on the participants in my study

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were also outlined in this chapter. In the last section of this chapter, I have discussed how I

analysed my data. I have explained that while the process of data analysis is far from linear and

often repetitive, it only added depth to the interpretation of data. In the next chapter, I examine

further the research data from this ethnographic study where I begin with the analysis of data

from the urban school and provide a detailed discussion of the first of the research findings.

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C H A P T E R F I V E

“Grades are something, but they’re not everything”

Mrs. Francia’s ‘teaching to the tests’ and other pedagogical practices in the urban school

Introduction

In this chapter, I address the question How do teachers in a junior urban disadvantaged public high

school understand, value, and set out to practise good teaching? In observing these urban teachers,

I noted that they frequently practice three common teaching strategies; namely: (1) lectures, (2)

‘student-team reports’, and (3) ‘groupings’. There is a further teacher practice which I observed

in the urban school; that is, (4) establishing positive student-teacher relationships during

teaching episodes. While I observed this relationship work to be exhibited by only two of the nine

teachers, it is a critically important practice to examine in understanding what is valued as ‘good

teaching’ in this urban school.

There are four main sections in this chapter. Each section focuses on a teacher or two who

frequently use one of the first three aforementioned teaching strategies. The use of lectures, for

instance, is discussed under the first section, which focuses on Mrs. Francia, the maths teacher,

who was identified by her urban students as a ‘good teacher’.

Positive student-teacher relationships also demonstrated by Mrs. Francia is the focus of the

second section of this chapter. In this section, I use the lens of relationship and care to discuss Mrs.

Francia’s instructional approach which resembles ‘teaching to the test’ (Popham, 2001). In this

discussion, I examine the contested issues of ‘teacher accountability’ and ‘responsibility’ as raised

in Weimer’s (2002) learner-centered teaching and Noddings’s (2013) ethic of care. I use this

discussion to argue that teacher-centered methods are perceived within this context of the urban

school as practices of ‘good teaching’ because they directly address the urban students’ needs and

priorities in education— to achieve academically so they can improve the life circumstances of

their families.

In the third section, I discuss the way Mrs. Pili, the Tagalog Language and Literature teacher, uses

student-team reports, a teaching strategy which allows for ‘structured cooperative learning’

(Gillies, 2004) in this urban school. In this section, I also compare the relational care of Mrs.

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Francia with Mrs. Pili, whom I observed to practise learner-centered strategies which aim to

develop independent and critical thinking among her students. As Mrs. Pili’s pedagogical methods

de-emphasise tests and promote student engagement, I perceived her as the ‘good teacher’. Her

students however show indifference to her practices of ‘good teaching’ and ‘relational care’.

The fourth and last section focuses on Mrs. Aga and Mr. Sirang, teachers in Biotechnology and

General Science, respectively, who both demonstrate a creative practice referred to as

‘groupings’. I discuss the way they use ‘groupings’ in promoting peer relationships and group

harmony among the urban students, which supports Phuong-Mai Nguyen and colleagues’ (2009)

notion that Cooperative Learning in some Asian contexts is understood as a strategy to foster

classroom relationships rather than to develop students’ cognitive skills.

In line with an ethnographic approach, I first introduce the demographic and school setting in

which this analysis is conducted. To do so, I present a snapshot of the city life surrounding the

urban school, Ciudad Public High School. In the vignette below, I present my observations of what

occurs inside the urban classroom. In doing so, I seek to provide a context in which we can better

understand the perceptions and views of these urban teachers around what constitutes ‘good

teaching’.

The wrought-iron gate at seven-fifteen

Drivers hurl curses as their trimobiles get stuck in a heavy traffic. The tinge of gasoline

in the air mixes with the pungent aromas of anything fried from the cafeterias nearby.

Padyak, multicabs, and food carts weave through this narrow street with, which seem

quite odd—students sweltering in long queues as they stand outside this heavily-bolted

gate. Flung around the gate’s iron grills is a signboard shouting in red paint, ‘No ID, No

Entry. No vendors allowed. Latecomers and visitors wait outside.’

I wait outside. It is five to seven.

The cacophony of commuters hailing at rush hour, trimobiles screeching, and hawkers

yelling for their buena mano seem to orchestrate with the syncopated singing of the students from

the other side of this gate. From our side, no one seems in the mood to sing. The national anthem

rouses from the megaphones which hang precariously in a corner of an expansive wooden

building, flaunting old arches and windows of capiz. This building with its post-colonial façade

has, as I was told, stood witness since 1902 to these countless sights and sounds of early morning

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rituals. No one is mistaken that it is Monday. The only thing that makes today less ‘manic’ is the

flag, serenely waving atop its tower, stately and grand, unfurled by the habagat wind which

carried the haste and humdrum of the day to a fade as the school bell rings.

It is seven-fifteen. Like flood water from a broken dam, throngs of students darted in as the

gate is finally reopened, rushing frantically to reach their classrooms before the first class begins.

I am left alone at the gate. “Visitor? Your permit?” I hand a piece of paper to the school security.

After reading the slip, he returns to his station. I take it as a gesture that I am welcome to come in.

At seven-twenty, the only sound I can hear is the gentle clacking of the flag hooks, signaling that

it is time for me, too, to come to class.

Eyes peep through the window screen of room one-dot-one. “She’s here, ma’am,” one

student tells the teacher. A lady comes out to meet me, “Oh, hello there. Come in”. I enter the

room and before I introduce myself, the teacher tells the class, “As I mentioned before, we will

have an observer for her research.” The students sit up straight and remain quiet with their books

and notebooks neatly stacked on their armdesk. They all look at me, eager to hear what I have to

say. “Good morning!” I greet them with a big smile. “My name is Lucille. I’m here to be your

classmate, too, not just an observer.” The students exchange looks and smiles. As I tell a little bit

more about myself, little by little, too, they start to sit less straight up and look less uptight. Then,

the teacher asks me, “Is that corner there at the back good for you?” A girl in the back row shows

me an empty chair beside her. I walk towards the back of the room.

With eyes still following me, I sit beside Pipay. “Hello, Ate Lucille,” she said. “This is our

lesson today,” Pipay beams as she hands me a book. Algebraic expressions, the page read. “Oh,

what a good way to start the morning,” I said with a wink. Pipay giggles. In their delight, our

seatmates watch Pipay and I share a book. “Alright, let’s take a look at problem set number one,

class.” Mrs. Francia, the maths teacher, writes on the board. And just like that, our class has

already started.

Ciudad Public High School: A demographic and socio-economic profile

The urban school, Ciudad Public High School, is one of the oldest and largest public nationally-

funded high schools in the Bikol region and it is located at the heart of the city center.

Approximately 500 meters away from downtown centro, the urban high school can be reached

within a five-minute commute via trimobile or jeepney, the two main forms of transportation in

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the city of Naga. A riverine city located in the southernmost tip of the island of Luzon in the

Philippines, Naga, stands as one of the “oldest cities in the Philippines having been created by a

royal decree in the 16th century when the Philippines was still under Spanish Colonial rule”

(Robredo, 2007 cited in Puatu, 2010 p. 24).

This urban school has 139 instructional classrooms, each can hold an average class size

of fifty-two. The first floor of the main wooden building houses the guidance office, clinic, student

government office and various departments, while the library, speech laboratory and a large

meeting hall are on the second floor. On the right side of the wooden building are the Principal’s

Office, Auditor’s Office and the Registrar’s Office.

In 2015, at the time of my class observations, this urban school had a total population of

roughly seven thousand students coming either from low-income families or the urban poor

municipalities in Naga City. The urban poor consist of squatters and informal settlers, comprising

some 6.5 percent of households residing in 21 urban barangays (suburbs) of Naga City. In Naga

City, “squatters are those who occupy government lands or lands with public infrastructure like

railways and bridges; in which, lot rents could not be charged to its occupants” (Valenzuela, 2012

p. ii). The urban poor also comprise the unemployed which are registered at 8.4 percent of the

total population of 196,003 in Naga City. Sixty percent of this total population comprises the labor

force whose sources of income are derived from commerce, agriculture, and tourism. Naga City

also has a high percentage of its employed population who are Overseas Filipino Workers (OFWs)

accounting for 8.5 percent of its total household population. The Naga City Local Government

reports some 11 percent of its the city’s household population relying on OFWs’ remittances as

source of income in 2015. The other sources of income are poultry and swine raising as well as

rice and coconut farming.

In 2015, the national subsistence incidence among Filipinos, or the proportion of Filipinos

whose incomes fall below the food threshold, was estimated at 8.1 percent. Subsistence incidence

among Filipinos is often referred to as the proportion of Filipinos in extreme or subsistence

poverty (Philippine Statistics Authority, 2015). Subsistence poverty in the Philippines is measured

through food threshold which is the minimum income required to meet basic food needs and

satisfy the nutritional requirements set by its Food and Nutrition Research Institute (FNRI) to

ensure that one remains economically and socially productive. When basic non-food

requirements such as clothing, housing, transportation, health and education expenses are

included it is referred to as poverty threshold. In 2015, a Filipino family needed at least PhP 6,329

(AUD 176) on average, per month to meet the family’s basic food needs and at least PhP 9,064

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(AUD 252) every month to meet both basic food and non-food needs. These amounts in Philippine

Peso (PhP) represent the monthly food threshold and monthly poverty threshold, respectively. The

minimum wage daily rate in 2015 in Naga City is PhP 260 (AUD 7.2). In Naga City, in the same

year, the number of households which are below food threshold is 23.9 percent and those below

poverty threshold is 37.5 percent (Philippine Statistics Authority, 2015). This signifies a high

percentage of households in Naga City under subsistence poverty.

Of the 12,015 total population of children aged twelve to fifteen years old in Naga City,

37.8 percent (or 4,536) of these children are not attending high school (CBMS: The Many faces of

Poverty in Naga City, 2014). In 2015, Ciudad Public High School had their enrolment registered

at 7,034 students, the highest among all secondary schools in Naga City.

The junior class

The above described context provides a frame through which to consider the special nature of

the class I observed. Referred to as the ‘star section’, this junior class is one of the three designated

honors programs in this urban school. This class was designated by the school principal for my

observation because, as he explained, it is comprised of high-achieving students and a roster of

teachers who earned their master’s degrees in education from universities in the city or in Manila.

There are 31 students in this class, 11 boys and 20 girls. To be qualified in an honors

program in this high school requires a student applicant to pass the entrance exam with a score

of 80 percent and above. When a student qualifies, he or she has to maintain a general grade point

average of 83 to retain a place in the honors program until his or her fourth year in junior high

school, equivalent to grade 10 in the new K to 12 curriculum in the Philippines. Classes start at

seven-twenty in the morning and end at five in the afternoon. There is a thirty-minute recess in

the morning, a one-hour break for lunch at eleven-forty, and an afternoon break for fifteen

minutes at three-fifteen.

There are nine teachers teaching nine different subjects in this junior class. The core

subjects, namely: English, Mathematics, General Science, and Biotechnology have more weight on

the computation of the students’ grade point average than the rest of the subjects, which are

Social Studies, Tagalog Language and Literature, Values Education, Physical Education Health and

Music, and Information Communications and Technology (ICT). The duration of each subject is at

least forty minutes. Six of the nine teachers meet this class every other day except for the

Mathematics and General Science teachers who meet the students every day.

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In this class, I observed teaching practices that were common to all nine teachers. I

categorized their practices into three themes, namely: (1) explaining well during lectures; (2)

allowing for student-teams reports; and (3) encouraging students to learn in big groups. While I

observed all nine teachers share these three common practices, each of them differs in the

frequency and the amount of time allotted for each practice, the sequence and manner of

implementing the classroom practices, the type of instructional materials used, the number of

students involved, and the objective behind the practice. These nuances in the urban teachers’

practices are described at length in the succeeding sections.

At this point, this chapter opens with a story of the first of our four teachers, Mrs. Francia,

the maths teacher. Her story starts with a very important announcement.

Not just for tests but for life, too

“Today, I am to announce the Top 10 achievers in this class,” says Mrs. Francia. Low

murmurs can be heard until a name is called. “Nenita,” Mrs. Francia reads from her class

record. Crisp rounds of applause filled the room until nine other students are called.

“Congratulations to our top ten!” Mrs. Francia smiles, beaming with pride for her

students. “Now, for those whose grades are below 82, I’ll give you more drills, so we’ll

have more than just top 10 achievers next quarter.” The students look relieved.

“Let’s put the top ten aside and open your workbook on page 37,” Mrs. Francia instructs

the class. Noticing that Mrs. Francia is referring to a lesson they already discussed, Pipay

informs her teacher, “Ma’am, we’re done with that already.”

“I know,” replied Mrs. Francia, “but we have to review it because Mabel was

absent when we discussed this. She represented our school in a regional competition, so

we just need go back a little for her. Is that okay, class?”

“Yes, ma’am!” The boys at the back exclaim, “It’s definitely okay, we sure need

a review!” The girls in the middle row agree, “A review is just what we for our

summative test this Friday.”

In her thanks, Mabel tells the class, “It’s nice to be back, classmates!” “We

missed you, Mabel,” her classmates exclaim. The entire class congratulates Mabel for the

silver medal she got from a news writing regional contest. The class is in a great mood.

The class discussion continues until finally, when the board is filled with

equations and solutions, Mrs. Francia asks the students, “Class, in what ways in your life

are these algebraic expressions useful?” The students are silent until a group of boys

recite in chorus, “To pass the test!” The students laugh.

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“Well, that’s true,” Mrs. Francia said thoughtfully. “But algebra is not just for

tests. Look at this—” Mrs. Francia writes a problem on the board and lets the students

solve it on their notebooks. Three minutes later, a couple of students go to the board to

write their solutions. A couple more do the same. Without being told, more students come

to front to show their answers. When all the seven students are done with their

boardwork, Mrs. Francia examines each of their solution processes, corrects some errors

here and there while explaining these to the students, and marks each of the seven

answers with a big check.

“Now class,” Mrs. Francia calls the attention of the students. “All these seven

solutions are different from each other. But they are all correct. What does this say about

Maths in general?” The students seem to be in deep thought.

“That there are many solutions to one problem?” replied Onyok. “Exactly!” Mrs.

Francia exclaims. “That’s what we should learn from maths—that we shouldn’t give up

because there is always, always not just one but many solutions to a single problem.”

“Ah, just like life then, ma’am?” remarked Kiko. “Yes, just like life. See, class,

maths is not just for tests but for life, too,” Mrs. Francia reminds the class. The students

smile and take notes as they listen to Mrs. Francia continues her lessons.

Mrs. Francia’s explanations are flawlessly crystal clear even I find myself doing

some solving in my notebook and finally understanding algebra like never before. “I like

her. She makes maths seem easy and lovable,” whispered Pipay to me as I solve problem

set B. Four days later, the class had the summative test which lasted the entire period.

Mrs. Francia: The students’ (life) coach

In observing Mrs. Francia’s class for forty minutes every day, I noted that a large amount of time

is allotted for student drills and practice. Assessments of all kinds (e.g. formative and summative

tests, from whole class ‘problem-solving’, board work and workbook exercises, quizzes, to graded

tests and comprehensive exams) are spread across evenly within the three weeks of my

observation in her class. Generally, Mrs. Francia’s approach in teaching appears to provide her

students with many examples as possible until they finally ‘master the concept’. Mastery of the

concept, as Mrs. Francia later explained to me, is attained when at least 25 of the students (81

percent of the class) get a perfect score in her teacher-made summative exams. For the rest of the

19 percent of the class (around six students) who did not get a perfect score, they are provided

with remedial tests and tutorials (referred to as ‘make-up tests’) by Mrs. Francia after school.

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It is important to note, however, that the majority of tests administered by Mrs. Francia

and other urban teachers are ‘teacher-made’ or designed and constructed by the same teacher

teaching the subject. Only four of these tests, referred to as ‘quarterly examinations’, are provided

by the Division Office (local entity of the Philippine education ministry, the Department of

Education). The weight allotment for these quarterly examinations comprises sixty percent of a

student’s grade; that is, ten percent for the preliminary and prefinal examinations while twenty

percent for the midterm and final examinations. The remaining forty percent is upon the

discretion of the teacher, which she could allot for ‘class standing’ which means a student’s

participation in class discussions and activities, ‘graded recitation’, group projects, and even

leadership efforts in co- and extra-curricular involvements, among others. It is important to

mention this here to clarify that the tests I refer to in this urban school are not similarly situated

with how tests are designed, constructed, administered, and valued in the contexts of public

schools in the United States or in Singapore (see Tan, 2008), Thailand-Myanmar (see Tyrosvoutis

(2016), and Hong Kong (see Biggs, 1996; Yeung, 2009). Therefore, it cannot be said that the

pressure of tests (particularly high-stakes tests) placed on the students in this urban school in

this Philippine context is similar with those in its neighbouring Asian countries.

Explaining well during lectures

There is a general pattern in how Mrs. Francia teaches this junior class. The first fifteen minutes

is allotted for a brief review of the previous lesson (this review comes in the form of checking of

solved problems given as ‘assignments’ or homework by Mrs. Francia). This is followed by an

introduction of the new lesson which is done through workbook exercises or drills as board work.

The next thirty minutes is for checking of students’ answers, which also serves as the discussion

proper of the lesson. The discussion culminates with some form of assessment, either formative

or summative, depending on how prepared the urban students are for a graded test based on

their engagement and performance during class discussion.

In my interview with Mrs. Francia, she refers to this way of teaching as ‘lecture-

discussion’, a strategy that she refers to as a deductive method of teaching in mathematics, where

she starts with a concept or a rule, which she introduces through a lecture. She then gives

examples or what she calls, ‘problem sets’ which she also solves to demonstrate various ‘solution

processes’ to her students. After which, she provides different ‘problem sets’ for her students to

solve on their own. Later, several students volunteer or are nominated by Mrs. Francia to show

their solutions to the class through board work. The discussion part comes in when the students,

as a class, express their thoughts about their classmates’ solution on the board with Mrs. Francia

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moderating the students’ exchange of ideas. In using this ‘lecture-discussion’, Mrs. Francia

describes herself as a ‘traditional teacher’. Interested in what Mrs. Francia means by ‘traditional’,

I probed further:

Lucille: Why do you call yourself a traditional teacher? Mrs. Francia: because I give a lot of lectures, I give a lot of drills. Lucille: Why is that? Mrs. Francia: That’s how students learn best […] My seventeen years of teaching taught

me that students still need someone to help them understand how the solutions are made. That’s where the part of the teacher comes in— explain, lecture, so the students understand.

It is important to note in this interchange how Mrs. Francia places emphasis on her

‘seventeen years of teaching experience’ as a reason behind her use of traditional instructional

practices like lectures and drills. The use of this ‘long experience’ narrative among teachers is

argued by Schweisfurth (2013) as a critical factor to a possible rejection of learner-centered

practices in the classroom.

Lineage of ‘long experience’

In developing countries, Schweisfurth (2013) observes that teachers, albeit receiving training are

less likely to implement learner-centered practices as issues of quality teaching (i.e. poorly

resourced classroom) are rarely addressed, and “therefore they have only their own experiences

to draw on to inform their practice” (p. 66). In the same way, teachers’ motivation (or the lack of)

to make the ‘paradigm shift’ is further curtailed given their ‘long experience’ of perennial

problems in education which seem to perpetuate despite the state’s pressing call for change or

the constant promise of innovation. This supports the conclusions in the separate studies of Kaya

Yilmaz and Michele Schweisfurth which found that given the compounding issues of challenging

classroom realities, working conditions, and the outlook within a school culture may become

‘real’ obstacles for teachers to adopt learner-centered teaching (Yilmaz, 2008), which could

explain why they ‘retreat’ to, if not, retain their traditional methods of teaching (Schweisfurth,

2013, p. 67),

There are other several layers of tension that can be noted in this interchange with Mrs.

Francia. Firstly, her reference to the use of lectures and drills as traditional methods of teaching

as a response to how ‘students learn best’ antagonizes some fundamental concepts of learner-

centered teaching. The practice of lecture method, categorized as ‘teacher-centered’, alongside the

use of student drills, which is associated with the phrase ‘drill and kill’, are criticized for promoting

rote learning and failing to develop higher forms of thinking such as critical reasoning and

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creativity (Cuban, 1983; Meece, 2003; McCombs & Miller, 2007). Referring to lecture method,

Crumly, Dietz, and d’Angelo (2014) assert:

[A] very traditional approach to teaching and learning, this method does not always meet all the learning styles of students. Truth be told, teacher-centered learning is less a pedagogical method than it is a habit based on suppositions about what’s more difficult or personally convenient” (p. 5, emphasis in original).

Within the context of Mrs. Francia’s use of lectures and drills, it becomes clear to me as the

researcher, given the weight of division-based quarterly exams on student grades, that the

tensions within and between her ‘very traditional approach to teaching’ are a response to her

perceptions of teacher accountability. A closer examination of Mrs. Francia’s practice of lectures

and drills tells us that her pedagogical choice could be shaped, first and foremost, by the pressures

placed upon her being accountable for her students’ test scores, and her experience which tells

her that these methods are more likely to produce strong exam performance.

Teacher accountability

Teacher accountability is a critical issue raised among proponents of learner-centered education

(i.e. Weimer, 2002; McCombs & Miller, 2007) and within discussions about democratic education

through caring pedagogy (Noddings, 2013). This is because teacher accountability implies strict

adherence to content, direct alignment to curriculum goals, and preoccupation with high stakes

testing and student outcomes. Issues of mistrust towards teachers are also implied within the

discourse of accountability, which might be concealed under a blanket of fixed and prescribed

content-driven curriculum that puts premium to standardized testing as the means of validating

student learning and holding teachers accountable should students fail. This vicious cycle of

teacher blame is argued to only demotivate teachers in delivering the quality of instruction

students actually need to learn (Schweisfurth, 2013) and even disempowers teachers in their

attempt to care for students (Noddings, 1992; 2013).

As teachers are placed under heavy pressure to achieve the expected student outcomes,

their approach in teaching may become focused on teaching to the test. Given the recurrence of

tests in Mrs. Francia’s class and her test-preparation teaching strategies, this ‘pedagogical look’

might give an outside observer an impression that her approach resembles teaching to the test.

Associated with ‘teacher-centered methods’, teaching to the test is sharply criticized not only by

proponents of learner-centered teaching but education reformers, in general. However, W. James

Popham (2001), an important figure in the field of student-centered assessments, argues that,

based on his decades of research on and practice of assessing students, teaching to the test

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connotes either ‘curriculum-teaching’ or ‘item-teaching’. When teachers direct their instruction

towards a specific body of content knowledge or a set of competencies (such as the ability to solve

algebraic expressions) represented by a given test, ‘curriculum-teaching’ is taking place (Popham,

2001). For example, if students will be tested on addition, ‘curriculum-teaching’ teachers will

cover a range of topics and skills related to addition, so students understand what addition is,

know how to manipulate the addends to the find the sum, solve more complex addition, and are

able to communicate with and about addition. Popham argues that when practised properly,

‘curriculum-teaching’ will not only improve students’ scores on tests but also “elevate students’

mastery of knowledge and skills” (Popham, 2001, p. 17).

In my observation of her methods, I find Mrs. Francia’s approach in teaching to be similar

to this ‘curriculum teaching’ that Popham (2001) describes. In the same way, her practices also

resonate the descriptions of ‘whole-class teaching’ as observed by Stevenson and Lee (1995)

among Japanese maths teachers who begin instruction by presenting a word problem then ask

several students to show their solutions on the board and discuss with the whole class how they

solve the problem. Meanwhile, ‘item-teaching’, on the other hand, is an inappropriate form of

teaching when teachers use the actual test items in classroom activities or modified versions of

test items to improve students’ scores in high-stakes tests. Because it “eviscerates the validity of

[tests],” Popham finds “item-teaching…reprehensible [and] should be stopped” as it

fundamentally ignores the essential (and ethical) purpose of teaching and testing (Popham, 2001,

p. 17). This ‘item-teaching’, which must not be the intention behind the practice of ‘teaching to

the tests’ is, as Popham (2001) argues, a consequence of the immense pressure of high-stakes

testing in today’s schools, thereby limiting teachers to provide the instruction that really helps

students acquire mastery of content and skills. Schweisfurth (2013) also argues that high-stakes

tests are a major debilitating factor in implementing learner-centered practices in the classroom.

As teachers are held accountable for test scores, they are placed under great pressure to cover as

much content as possible.

Race to cover content

In my interviews with Mrs. Francia and other urban teachers, it appears that much of their

pedagogical decisions gravitate towards a strong orientation to cover content. With such

orientation comes the notion that ‘more is better’ given that it is in this wide range of curriculum

content that their students are tested. As stakes are high on student exams in this urban school,

so too is the pressure placed on its teachers to cover the prescribed content within limited time.

Such pressure is evident in this response by Mrs. Francia to my question about her practice of

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learner-centered strategies (e.g. cooperative learning) in her class, “What will happen to us then

when the Division Office gives the exams? …The worst thing is having too little time to teach all the

maths concepts they need to learn”. This response suggests that Mrs. Francia holds herself

accountable for her students’ test scores. Mrs. Francia’s sense of accountability could have been

influenced by the Division Office’s expectations from its teachers to deliver the desired student

outcomes. The proximity of the Division Office to this urban high school (approximately just two

kilometers away) could have placed additional pressure on Mrs. Francia, considering that

anytime, a district supervisor or the division schools superintendent may pop-in for an informal

observation or a school visit.

As Mrs. Francia upholds her accountability to her students’ test scores, her allegiance to

content becomes a priority. Weimer (2002) contends that “a strong allegiance to content blocks

the road to more learner-centered teaching” (p. 46). A strong allegiance to content often leads to

an intense preoccupation with ‘teaching to the tests’, which then places students at the risk of

equating ‘learning’ to mere test scores and grades. This superficial conceptualisation of ‘learning’

occurs within a schooling system where students are trained for rote and surface learning,

regurgitating exactly what was given in lectures and practised in drills. Instead of focusing on

covering large amount of content material, Weimer (2002) argues that attention must be given

to ‘uncovering’ the content material by selecting the most appropriate and relevant topics

students actually need for lifelong learning.

Teacher accountability, prompted by this strong allegiance to prescribed curriculum

content arguably induces mere compliance to curriculum policies, resulting in the practice of

teacher-centered methods that not only curb students’ learning and creativity but also restrict

relationships in the classroom (Weimer, 2002). Most importantly, teacher accountability distracts

teachers from a true sense of responsibility to care for the best interest of their students

(Noddings, 2013). Such notions however are challenged by Mrs. Francia, in the sense that while

her teaching practices are mostly ‘teacher-centered’, these are in fact perceived as ‘caring and

good teaching practices’ by her students. It is also important to note that Mrs. Francia is also

identified by the students as the one whom they have the strongest relationship with among all

their teachers in this urban school.

Fostering caring student-teacher relationships in the classroom

A caring relationship between Mrs. Francia and the students is consistently evident throughout

my three weeks of observation in this urban school. While I observe Mrs. Francia’s instructional

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methods lean heavily towards teacher-centered teaching, it is difficult to dismiss her strong

practice of establishing caring student-teacher relationships. In my interviews with Mrs. Francia

there are long narratives on ‘creating positive relationships with students’ and ‘prioritising their

needs as learners’, which she perceives as the most important and the main priority in ‘good

teaching’. This incident on my second week of observation in Mrs. Francia’s class demonstrates

her positive relationship with her students.

On a Friday, when it was the day to check the students’ answers from a drill, Mrs. Francia

asks one student, Toto, to show his solution on the board. While Toto is at the board, he gets stuck

at one point and looks at Mrs. Francia to signal to her that he is not sure how to proceed. “You can

do it,” Mrs. Francia encourages Toto. He continues working on the problem on the board, but his

solution gets off track. He looks at Mrs. Francia again. Understanding that Toto needs help, Mrs.

Francia came over and gave Toto some pointers to find the correct solution. The class was

cheering for Toto while his friends in the back row are calling out, “You can do it, To! We are just

behind you… literally!” Mrs. Francia tells the class to settle down and remarks, “Toto is on the right

track. He’s going to get it, you’ll see”. Finally, after few minutes Toto arrives at the correct answer

and the entire class applauds him. Toto returns to his seat, waving like a victor and exchanging

high-fives with his classmates at the aisle seats while his friends at the back cheer for him. As he

is about to take his seat, he exclaims, “Thank you, Ma’am Francia! You’re the best!” The whole class

roars in applause and starts chanting, “Ma’am Fran-cia… Ma’am Fran-cia!” Then some students

remind the class, “Classmates, quiet, Ma’am will continue her lesson.” Onyok, one of Toto’s friends

seated in the back row, “Go ahead, Ma’am, sorry we are noisy. You’re the best, Ma’am”. The class

applauds again. “For me, you are all the best students a teacher could ask for,” Mrs. Francia

responds cheerfully. Then, she continues her lesson.

While I did not observe Mrs. Francia practice specific learner-centered teaching strategies

promoted in the Philippines as part of its national reform (i.e. cooperative learning, differentiated

instruction, dynamic learning and inquiry, among others) it was evident not only in this incident

with Toto but every day in how actively engaged these urban students are in her class despite

having only lectures as her standard method of teaching. It appears to me that the students are

fond of Mrs. Francia as their teacher. In spite of the strong academic pressure in this class, it is in

this maths class with Mrs. Francia where I observed these urban students to be most relaxed in

compared with other classes under different teachers. With how the students behave and interact

with Mrs. Francia, it appears to me that good teacher-student relationship exists between her and

these urban students. Such relationship, as Mrs. Francia describes, is fostered through how she

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puts her students as a priority in teaching. This is further explained in this interchange with Mrs.

Francia:

Lucille: Aside from lecture method, what other teaching practices do you consider as most helpful to your students’ learning?

Mrs. Francia: For me, it’s really important to adjust first to the needs of the students. I have to know what they really need. That’s why it’s important to relate with them.

Lucille: Are you saying that relationships with students are an important teaching practice for you?

Mrs. Francia: Yes. Number one, relate with the students, that’s number one. You must really make an effort to know the student first. Doing lectures really well only comes second in effective teaching.

It is important to notice in this interchange with Mrs. Francia that behind her strong practice of

lectures which resemble ‘teaching for tests’ is an intent to know and respond to her students’

needs as a main priority in ‘good teaching’. This priority is reflected in Mrs. Francia’s broad

awareness of her students’ personal backgrounds, which I noted during our interview. Mrs.

Francia’s long narratives about her students’ success stories in school which she disclosed to me

during our interview could affirm her intent to care for her students’ need to achieve. As her

students “confide to [her], telling [her] their stories and goals in life,” Mrs. Francia is able to learn

and discovers her students’ needs and priorities in school. She expressed, “I teach this way

because I believe this is the best way to respond to what my students need. They tell me they need to

achieve and do well in exams”. This response sends a powerful message that Mrs. Francia’s

approach in teaching is significantly shaped by her students’ needs and priorities in school.

‘Response-ability’ towards students’ needs and priorities in school

While Mrs. Francia’s instructional methods are mostly ‘teacher-centered’, Mrs. Francia’s

classroom practices, as she explains, address the need of her students to get good scores in tests.

For Mrs. Francia, teaching the way she does; that is, practising an approach that resembles

‘teaching to the tests’ is her way of responding to her students’ need to achieve in school. Mrs.

Francia expressed, “it is my commitment, the pledge I took oath as a teacher to help my students

learn and achieve, so they can graduate and draw their families out of poverty”. From here, we could

see that Mrs. Francia’s practices which resemble ‘teaching to the tests’ challenge the notions that

teacher-centered methods distract a teacher from fostering positive relationship with students

(Weimer, 2002) and disempowers a teacher in her attempt to care for students (Noddings, 1992;

2013). This is because behind Mrs. Francia’s teacher-centered methods of teaching, particularly

her practice of ‘teaching to the tests’ is an intent to foster ‘relational care’ with her urban students.

In giving lectures and practising teacher-centered methods, Mrs. Francia perceives that these

forms of teaching “respond directly to [her] students need to achieve in school and do better in life”.

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In my interview with Mrs. Francia, she expressed that the needs, priorities, and

aspirations which her students confide to her in class give her the “insight that there is really value

in having good relationship with students”. This is because, as Mrs. Francia explains, “I start to see

my student as a learner and a person”. When teachers recognise the students as individuals, Mrs.

Francia claims that they “can pay attention to what a student really needs and give the grade that

student truly deserves.” Mrs. Francia also strongly comments against teachers who do not

prioritise ‘knowing students’ and contests that their lack of attempt to establish relationship with

their students “go against the principle of good teaching”. Mrs. Francia comments:

You have to excuse me from saying this, but there are teachers who don’t know their students, not even by name. So, these teachers just invent some grades and assign these randomly to students. You can’t do that! You must know your students, so you can give a fair grade, which is the least thing you can do as a teacher.

This comment reflects Mrs. Francia’s conscientious responsibility as a teacher, a responsibility

which, as she argues, must fundamentally start in giving students fair grades, which, as she claims

are not taken seriously by some teachers in this urban school. Mrs. Francia argues that teachers

need to see that “grades are of critical value for these students. They can make or break a student.”

She suggests that teachers of students in “competitive classes must recognise that grades are

something for students”. However, it is the teacher’s responsibility to remind students, as Mrs.

Francia emphasized, that “grades are something, definitely something for students of this caliber

and background, but grades also do not define who they are. Grades are something, but they are not

everything.”

Mrs. Francia’s pedagogical decision to practice ‘teaching for tests’ therefore emanates

from a responsibility towards her students’ need to achieve good grades in tests rather than from

being held accountable for student outcomes under a state directive. Under this lens of

responsibility (rather than accountability, see Weimer, 2002 and Noddings, 2013) that we can

understand that Mrs. Francia’s use of teacher-centered methods and ‘teaching to the tests’ is

based on her desire to care for her students’ needs and priorities in school as well as their future

aspirations. The case of Mrs. Francia therefore gives context to Schweisfurth’s (2013) observation

that “learner-centered education in a variety of countries have been thwarted when passing the

common examination is seen as the most important outcome for students’ life chances” (p. 51).

Similarly, examining Mrs. Francia’s teacher-centered practices under a lens of care provides a

different perspective in understanding ‘good teaching’ within the presumed dichotomy between

teacher-centered and learner-centered teaching. Mrs. Francia therefore challenges notions that

limit ‘good teaching’ to learner-centered practices. Clearly, ‘good teaching’ for Mrs. Francia is

comprised of classroom practices that, despite being teacher-centered, are aligned to the

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academic needs and priorities of the students. Fostering a positive student-teacher relationship is

also indispensable in Mrs. Francia’s conception of ‘good teaching’ as it is through this relationship

that she is able to “listen to [her] students’ actual needs” and “direct [her] instruction towards these

needs”. This very act of Mrs. Francia’s ‘listening’ to her students’ expressed needs resonates with

the ethic of care, in which Noddings (2012) maintains, “a carer is first of all attentive, and watches

and listens” (p. 773).

Apart from Mrs. Francia, there is another teacher whom I observed to have exhibited

‘relational care’ for her students—Mrs. Pili, the Tagalog language and literature teacher. Mrs. Pili’s

care for her students appears more personal than academic compared with Mrs. Francia’s caring

practices. In terms of her approach in teaching, it can be noted in the succeeding vignette that she

attempts to promote critical thinking among her students by using a ‘socratic method’ of

questioning within her lectures. Most importantly, Mrs. Pili constantly de-emphasises grades by

reminding the students that the value of going to school is not measured by test marks but by

their character and their ability to think critically. This then opens the second story of this

chapter.

Thinking on your feet

When no one seems to know the answer, the students hurriedly scan their textbooks.

Seeing this, Mrs. Pili, in a disapproving tone, declares, “Class, not all answers are found

in your textbooks. It’s already here!” Mrs. Pili taps her right temple.

The students are wrapped in silence. Moments later, Mrs. Pili writes on the board.

“Kindly take note of these rubrics so you will be guided where to focus on.” The students

turn their heads to the front. “Look! Creativity is 20 percent so we have to be unique”

exclaim the students in the team I join in, “we can do something like a TV show.” The

group leader, Gina, hands me her coleman, “Ate Lucille, here, this is your ‘camera’.

You’ll act as the camera man”. My team finally starts having fun.

As each team presents its creative reporting, Mrs. Pili jumps in from time to time

to ask her students some questions. When all teams are done, Mrs. Pili proceeds by

finally introducing her lesson about the 1838 epic, Florante at Laura. As Mrs. Pili reads

an excerpt expressively and interjects with trivias here and there, the class rouses with

ah’s in chorus. When she comes to the part when Florante declares his love for Laura,

Mrs. Pili bursts into a song, “You are still very young and you’ve got lots of things to

learn in this world [translated from Tagalog].” The class roars in applause and cheers as

the students sing along with her.

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As the song ends, Mrs. Pili throws a question, “Class, to what recent issues in our

society could we relate the struggles of the main characters to?” The students raise a

handful of issues until one speaks out, “Ma’am, corruption in our traditional politics”.

Mrs. Pili almost jumped, “Yes! Good thinking, Bong. Now, what upcoming historic event

in our country in which this becomes a serious issue yet again?” In chorus, the students

reply, “2016 Philippine elections!”

Mrs. Pili moves closer to center aisle of the room, “Now, even if you can’t vote

yet, there are still a lot of ways to be a good citizen. Tell me class, how can you be good

citizens even you’re just students?” The students are in deep thought. A boy in the back

mumbles, “By studying hard, getting a good job, and finding…”

“Yes, Kiko, continue,” prompts Mrs. Pili. “Nevermind, ma’am,” Kiko is

blushing. The class starts teasing. His classmates insist that Kiko continues. “…finding

the right time to love and have a family, ma’am,” Kiko finally said. Hearing this, the class

went wild. “Let’s get serious now, class,” Mrs. Pili shifts the tone of her voice. “Kiko

gave a very good answer, especially about waiting for the right time.”

Gina raises her hand, “So, ma’am, when is really the right time?”

“Now, you tell me,” Mrs. Pili replies.

The girls at the front say, “When we finish school?”

“Right, but is this enough?” Mrs. Pili asks again. The girls in the midrow speak

up, “When we are old enough and have stable jobs?”

“That sounds better,” Mrs. Pili smiles at them. “You’re all correct. The right

time means, as the poem and our song earlier teach us, that you have to be old enough.”

Mrs. Pili continues, “By that time, you and your ‘love one’ have grown more maturely in

many aspects of life—you both finish school, have stable jobs, and have grown more

responsible. Remember, class, true love waits.” The class is filled with teasing and

giggling. “And when you have a good family,” says Mrs. Pili, “that is in many ways,

being a good citizen”.

“Alright then,” Bong speaks up, “I’ll finish school and get a good job first before

I’ll marry somebody in this class”. Loud cheers and teasing filled the room. Seeing all

these, Mrs. Pili and I can’t help but to smile.

Mrs. Pili: The inquirer

In observing Mrs. Pili’s class, I noted that a majority of her teaching time is allotted to questions.

I also noted that her socratic method of questioning, where she poses series of thought-provoking

questions, prompts the students to discover the answer to their own questions. This can be

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noticed in the vignette when Gina asked Mrs. Pili about what does ‘right time’ really mean, which

Mrs. Pili answered in series of probing questions thrown to different students. Mrs. Pili’s

questions usually revolve on themes that depict social and political issues concerning the youth.

As shown in the vignette, particularly when Mrs. Pili asked, “how can you be good citizens even

you’re just students”, I noted how she uses current local events and popular media as anchors to

deepen the class discussion where she is able to incorporate values formation and character

building into her teaching. Overall, I observed Mrs. Pili practises strategies which, as she explains

during interview, improve her students’ engagement in the class discussions. She does this by

providing her students with opportunities where they can demonstrate their skills in leadership,

creativity, and critical thinking through her strategy, student-teams reports.

‘Student-team reports’

Unlike the usual student reports, this pedagogical strategy which Mrs. Pili calls student-team

reports, challenges her students to demonstrate their learning outputs, usually produced in

groups of six to eight members, through creative presentations such as class skits or written

projects, which are assessed using holistic rubrics. This use of rubrics, as mentioned in the

vignette, is part and parcel of Mrs. Pili’s teaching strategies that require group outputs from the

students. Rubrics for Mrs. Pili are, as she explains, “essential in promoting active participation and

genuine contribution of each member to the group, making the learning output as a real product of

group effort.” These ‘learning outputs’ that Mrs. Pili refers to are the collective conceptual

understanding and insights among the students from a pre-assigned content material. These

outputs are ‘reported’ the next day through creative presentations where the students in the team

share their opinion with each other. The team also has to engage their ‘audience’ by posing cases,

scenarios, or questions which trigger interaction within the whole class. This is why there is a

strong emphasis on ‘thinking beyond books’ in this class as Mrs. Pili discourages her students to

rely on textbooks when faced with questions that call for their opinion or demand critical

thinking. This is reflected in the vignette when Mrs. Pili exclaimed, “It’s already here,” as she points

to her right temple. Student-team reports, as Mrs. Pili describes, are an “effective strategy” to

address the urban students’ reliance on textbooks which, “veers them away from thinking on their

feet, from using their common sense and to reflect on critical issues that currently affect them”. The

culprit behind this concern of Mrs. Pili towards the urban students is their preoccupation with

test scores and equating good grades to life success. Mrs. Pili comments:

Students here [would] rather refer to textbooks than [learning from] each other. Why? It’s because of competition! All these tests and grades! […] So, I always remind them, ‘Does it make you a better person when you have good grades? No. To be a good person means to be kind, to share, to cooperate.’

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This concern of Mrs. Pili towards her grade-conscious students resonates with Smith and Sobel’s

(2010) view that raising student scores and academic achievement should only be one of the

outcomes of any educational process, not the pinnacle of education goals. I mentioned earlier that

in observing all nine teachers in this urban school, I find Mrs. Pili as the one who demonstrated

most frequently some classroom practices which I perceive as ‘good teaching’ because of her

approach in teaching that challenges students to ‘uncover the content’ (Weimer, 2002). I also

observed Mrs. Pili to have a good relationship with this class, just like Mrs. Francia, the maths

teacher. This relationship between Mrs. Pili and these urban students is evident when she sits

with them in their teams for a catch-up, sings with students during their creative presentations,

communicates with them in a ‘millennial language’, and stays after class hours to speak with her

students and their parents.

In my focus group interviews with the urban students, however, they fail to identify Mrs.

Pili as one of their ‘good teachers’, to the extent that Mrs. Pili did not come to their minds when I

asked them, “Who among your teachers help you learn well in class?” Only when I asked these

students about Mrs. Pili that they recognise that her classroom practices are ‘good’ and her

relationship with her as ‘positive and caring’ but with reservations, as reflected in this response

of one urban student, Prim, who comments, “But it’s just Filipino (Tagalog subject). It’s not maths

or science where we need to study really hard to get good grades.” This could be indicative of the

strong academic pressure placed on urban students as their conceptions of ‘good teaching’

become limited to practices under subjects that have more academic weight (i.e. Maths and

Sciences) than others (i.e. Social Sciences and Languages).

Smith and Sobel (2010) are particularly concerned about school systems that cultivate a

strong climate of student competition based on grades. They caution, “if children learn to advance

their own self-interest in a competition for higher grades, society suffers” (Smith and Sobel, 2010

p. 86). For communities to be renewed, Smith and Sobel (2010) argue that teachers need to

incorporate pedagogies that prepare students to build relationships. From these relationships,

the youth begin to see the real issues that significantly impact their surrounding community,

discover where in that community they can contribute their strengths and talents in and finally,

they begin to divert their energies to positively contribute to their society. It is only then that

students are made aware of specific ways they can help their families, contribute something

worthwhile to the community, and ultimately become a valuable member of the society. In this

perspective offered by Smith and Sobel (2010) that we can understand the principle behind Mrs.

Pili’s pedagogical strategy of student-team reports, which she finds “effective in building

relationships among the students and lessen the competition among them”.

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After three weeks of observing Mrs. Pili’s practice of student-teams reports and other

urban teachers’ strategies which allow for students to learn in groups, it appears to me, as the

observer, that in this urban school, the provision for group learning among its students is a

response to the strong academic competition among the students in this junior class. Allowing

students to learn in groups is an approach which these urban teachers use to create positive

relationships among the students. Groupings, as it is called in the urban school, develop in the

students the social skills they needed in coping with the strong academic pressure to achieve.

This purpose of groupings in this urban school are emphasized by Mrs. Aga, the Biotechnology

teacher, and Mr. Sirang, the General Science teacher.

Mrs. Aga and Mr. Sirang: The group facilitators

In my separate class observations of Mrs. Aga, the Biotechnology teacher, and Mr. Sirang, the

General Science teacher, I noted that both teachers use a similar teaching strategy that requires

the students to learn in big groups of six or more members. Unlike Mrs. Pili who provides the

students at the start of a group activity with rubrics to guide them on the tasks and outputs

expected, Mrs. Aga and Mr. Sirang only give the students a general orientation to what happens

in their ‘groupings’. Also, both teachers place more emphasis on reminding the students to

interact with each other rather than explaining the ‘learning objectives’ behind the ‘groupings’.

This then brings us to the third and last most practised instructional strategy in this urban school;

that is, ‘groupings’.

Encouraging students to learn in big groups called ‘groupings’

Initially, as I joined the students in their ‘groupings’ and observed how Mrs. Aga and Mr. Sirang

practise separately this strategy they call ‘groupings’, I struggle to understand why there seems

an absence of task orientation and scoring guides prior to this ‘groupings’ considering that this is

a class that appears to put premium on grades and scores. As I observed the students in their

‘groupings’, I noticed some are engaged in chitchats with their groupmates instead of discussing

the task at hand. I also observed several students doing their homework in a different subject

while their groupmates are busy with the group assignment. It is only when Mrs. Aga or Mr. Sirang

circulates to monitor each group that all members actually start getting involved in the

‘groupings’. In my fieldnotes, I made a comment that should Mrs. Aga or Mr. Sirang had given the

students a proper orientation to individual accountability and collaboration before the

‘groupings’, active participation and intellectual discussion among all students could have been

achieved.

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In my fieldnotes, I also made a suggestion that in order to ensure the involvement of all

members in ‘groupings’, Mrs. Aga and Mr. Sirang should have provided the students with some

form of ‘analytic-holistic rubrics’ (see Stiggins, 2003; Popham, 2008 under student-centred

classroom assessments). In such rubrics, as described by Stiggins (2003) and Popham (2008),

expected outputs and desired behaviors are clearly and specifically indicated alongside some

general criteria to guide the students which tasks or behaviors they should focus on according to

the assigned weight (or points) per specific ‘task criterion’. In this form of rubrics, as I continued

my comment in my fieldnotes, both teacher and students are guided to which level of learning

that specific ‘task criterion’ in the rubrics seeks to target, in accordance to the revised Bloom’s

taxonomy (Anderson, Krathwohl, Airasian, Cruikshank, Mayer, Pintrich, Raths, & Wittrock, 2001).

These rubrics, as I suggested, would not only give the students a more objective and formative

assessment as they work on cognitive tasks. Most importantly, as students are to be ‘graded’, as

what is practised in Mrs. Pili’s class, issues that arise in cooperative groups such as loafing,

reliance on group leaders, and dominance of one member over decision-making could be avoided.

This way all students can participate actively by contributing their ideas to the group.

‘Groupings’ to promote peer relationships and group harmony

My analysis that ‘groupings’ in this urban school is intended for developing social skills necessary

for peer relationships emerged from how these urban teachers spontaneously narrate their

practice of ‘groupings’ in this junior class. For instance, within Mr. Sirang’s long narratives on

‘groupings’, he mentioned that this is a helpful teaching strategy in improving his students’ social

skills which allow them to “build camaraderie” amongst each other. In examining Mrs. Aga’s

transcripts, I noted that she also views ‘groupings’ as a bedrock of “lasting friendships” among

these urban high school students. Similarly, Mrs. Pili, Tagalog language and literature teacher, to

recall, holds a similar belief towards groupings as she finds it “effective in building relationships

among the students and lessen the competition among them”. From these responses of these three

teachers, it can be noted that they perceive a value in fostering harmonious relationships among

students within their practise of ‘groupings’ in this class. Such value stems from an understanding

that requiring students to be in big groups train them to “learn cooperatively” (which they mean

as both the social and pro-social skill) instead of working individually, which only stirs

competition among the students. It is from this view of the urban teachers that I start to

understand why they use ‘groupings’ and cooperative learning interchangeably during

interviews.

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These urban teacher’s perceived value in ‘groupings’ (a form of Cooperative Learning as

practised in this urban school) lends support of Nguyen, Elliot, Terlouw, and Pilot’s (2009) claim

that Cooperative Learning (CL) in some parts of Asia (i.e. Vietnam and other Confucian Heritage

Cultures in East and Southeast Asia) are used for fostering classroom relationships, especially

peer relationships among students. Nguyen, et al. (2009) further argue:

CL initially attracted attention in the west largely because of its potential to raise academic achievement, while in the east it is likely perceived as a vehicle to reinforce relationships, with its impact upon cognitive achievement usually being seen as less important (p. 122, emphasis added).

This view of Nguyen, Elliot, Terlouw, and Pilot (2009) on Cooperative Learning in Asian

classroom contexts could provide an understanding why the ‘groupings’ in this junior class do

not require Mrs. Aga and Mr. Sirang to provide their students with rubrics in ensuring individual

accountability (an essential principle of Cooperative Learning) of all members in the group. This

is because rubrics would require students to ‘grade’ their classmates (peer assessment to ensure

all members’ participation in and contribution to the group) which may only promote academic

competition rather than peer relationship among their students. As promoting group harmony

and peer relationship appears as a priority in Mrs. Aga, Mr. Sirang, and Mrs. Pili’s practice of

‘groupings’, a strict adherence to individual accountability, an essential principle of Cooperative

Learning (in Johnson & Johnson, 1999; Gillies, 2004) is not a priority within this context of the

urban school.

Use of ‘fast-tracking’ to compensate for the time lost in ‘groupings’

While Mrs. Aga and Mr. Sirang see the value of ‘groupings’ in promoting harmonious relationships

among their students, they both recognize a risk in using ‘groupings’ regularly. To allow for

frequent ‘groupings’, a large amount of time would be needed to facilitate activities for students,

which then implies that there is a chunk of curriculum content that is to be omitted. Such

omissions then pose serious risks on both Mrs. Aga and Mr. Sirang as their decision to forego

some of the prescribed content for the purposes of ‘groupings’ compromises student

performance in tests. This is a risk which both teachers are careful to take as they teach the core

subject areas of Biotechnology and General Science. With the pressure of tests in this urban

school, Mrs. Aga and Mr. Sirang are presented with the dilemma between covering as much

content possible for the sake of student scores in their school exams or using groupings to

promote relationships in the classroom.

A similar predicament is faced by Mrs. Francia, the maths teacher. Mrs. Francia finds

‘groupings’ “time-consuming” considering the amount of content she needs cover in preparation

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for her students’ division-based exams. During our interview, Mrs. Francia raised, “What will

happen to us then when the Division Office gives the exams? So, I told my students that we should

cut back on our groupings.” While Mrs. Aga and Mr. Sirang choose not to cut back on groupings,

they then resort to ‘fast-tracking’, a teaching strategy which they explain as a way of compacting

three or more textbook-chapter topics together and teach them within one class period

(approximately forty minutes) in a lecture format. This practice of ‘fast-tracking’ in this urban

school gives context to Schweisfurth’s (2013) claim that

teachers don’t have much ‘wiggle room’ within stringent curricular guidelines, prescribed content-driven texts and stringent content-based, high-stakes assessment (p. 26).

This then explains why Mr. Sirang describes ‘fast-tracking’ as a “practical method because in a

short amount of time, it can cover large amounts of content where students get tested”. In the same

way, Mrs. Aga finds ‘fast-tracking’ a “reliable teaching method given the large class size and the

limited educational materials in the urban school”. This ‘fast-tracking’ is also practised by other

urban teachers alongside their use ‘groupings’. In my interviews with these other urban teachers,

I found that their use of ‘groupings’ however is for a more practical purpose.

‘Groupings’ to cope with economic constraints

I observed the other six urban teachers in this class also use ‘groupings’. However, as revealed in

our interviews, these teachers’ intention behind their practice of ‘groupings’ is mainly a response

to the limited resources in this urban school and not necessarily for promoting relationships

among the students as aimed for by Mrs. Aga, Mr. Sirang, and Mrs. Pili. Take for instance, Mr. Asog,

the ICT teacher, whom I observed to allow his students to work on a module activity in groups of

six. In my interview with him, Mr. Asog reveals that he lets his students have groupings “because

the learning modules are not enough for every one so some six students have to share one module”.

A similar view is expressed by the English teacher, Miss Yumi, who finds groupings as “efficient in

saving costs from photocopying students’ worksheets.” Instead of providing each student with a

worksheet, Miss Yumi tells the students to share a worksheet with other three or more students.

It is important to note that the learning modules and student worksheets which Mr. Asog and

Miss Yumi mentioned respectively are those which are state-mandated based on the new K to 12

learner-centered curriculum in the Philippines.

The Values Education teacher, Mr. Ulap whom I observed to let the students work on an

assignment in big groups, accounts his practice of ‘groupings’ to the limited resources in the urban

school. Mr. Ulap expressed that “it’s challenging to be learner-centered when manila papers and

modules aren’t enough for everyone”. The responses of these six other urban teachers towards

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‘groupings’, particularly this comment of Mr. Ulap, alongside the issues he raised in the use of

‘groupings’ as promoted under the new K to 12 curriculum in the Philippines, echoes

Schweisfurth’s (2013) notion that while Learner-centered Education (LCE) appears costless to

implement, it is however more of a “richer-world phenomenon” (p. 48). This is because, as

Schweisfurth (2013) explains, learner-centered teaching requires activity-based strategies (i.e.

cooperative learning strategies adopted from Cooperative Learning Approach) which suggest

availability of varied teaching and learning resources and access to relevant equipment and

facilities. These resources however are more likely available and accessible in developed

countries, “from where most LCE prescriptions for schooling originate” (Schweisfurth, 2013, p.

48). This therefore suggests that a number of learner-centered strategies including (forms of)

Cooperative Learning significantly demand much of the economic context. This is reflected in this

response of Mrs. Pili as she made a strong comment on how the Philippines, as a developing

country, is placed under pressure to be ‘learner-centered’ under a state directive despite

country’s economic limitations and cultural priorities. Mrs. Pili comments:

The problem about us Filipinos is we are fond of ‘gaya-gaya, puto-maya’ (a local idiomatic expression which connotes ‘a copycat’). We tend to follow the trend and copy it without thinking this—We are Filipinos! We aren’t Europeans or Americans, they are rich that’s why they can have this so-called ‘learner-centered’. But we are poor, and we can only afford to teach well and care deeply for students. That’s still good teaching.

Mrs. Pili’s comment reflects Schweisfurth’s (2013) notion that ‘learner-centered’ is an education

for the elite. More importantly, Mrs. Pili’s view reflects how the Philippines could have possibly

‘copied’ (or ‘mimicked’, in Anderson-Levitt, 2003) its pedagogies from the West. This is a serious

issue for Mrs. Pili because, as she argues, this places the country at risk of losing its traditional

methods of ‘good teaching’ that truly address the learning needs of the Filipinos. Mrs. Pili’s

comment also mirrors the critique of the Filipino historian Renato Constantino (1970) who has

long observed that the Philippine structure of schooling and pedagogical scripts tend to “imitate

Western education,” he notes, in which the country “patterned [its] education after the most

technologically advanced western nations” (p. 27), oblivious to the massive gap between cultures

not only in economy but most especially in educational goals.

As pedagogical methods are patterned after dominant cultures which promote ‘best

teaching practices’, teachers are at the risk of becoming indifferent to what their students actually

need, compromising the critical elements of relationships and care, which are central to the

practice of ‘good teaching’. Note how Mrs. Pili vigorously speak about care within the practice of

‘good teaching’ in the context of this disadvantaged public school in the city when she comments,

“But we are poor, and we can only afford to teach well and care deeply for students. That’s still good

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teaching”. This suggests that despite the lack of adequate teaching facilities and the limited

practice of prescribed learner-centered strategies, ‘good teaching’ could still be present within

acts of ‘relational care’ for students.

Overall, across my interviews with all nine teachers in this urban school, it is only Mrs.

Pili and Mrs. Francia who expressed that ‘good teaching’ is about knowing each student

personally in order to create positive relationships with them. This relationship is essential for

Mrs. Francia and Mrs. Pili as a vehicle to learn the needs of their students and in turn, adjust their

‘teaching’ in response to these needs. I did not however find a similar response from the other

seven teachers in this urban school. Even the two teachers, Mrs. Aga and Mr. Sirang who use

‘groupings’ in this class, were not able to express a similar degree of emphasis on how essential

caring student-teacher relationships are in good teaching as Mrs. Pili and Mrs. Francia did.

However, Mrs. Pili’s classroom practices and caring efforts were not recognised by her students

as ‘good teaching’ and ‘care’. It becomes necessary at this point to listen to these urban students

to explore further their perceptions of ‘good teaching’. This is what the next chapter seeks to do

as I examine which of these teacher practices the urban students actually find helpful in learning

well.

Conclusion

The strong academic climate in this select junior class in the urban school has varied influence on

the pedagogical decisions and classroom practices of the four teachers. These teachers respond

differently in helping their students cope with the academic demands and pressures in this urban

school. For instance, the two teachers, Mrs. Aga, the Biotechnology teacher, and Mr. Sirang, the

General Science teacher, whom their students identified as the teachers who provide them with

the most engaging ‘groupings’, use this teaching strategy in encouraging peer relationships and

group harmony rather than using ‘groupings’ for developing cognitive skills. Peer relationships

are perceived by Mrs. Aga and Mr. Sirang as helpful in reducing the academic competition among

students, thereby improving their students’ sense of wellbeing while completing their academic

requirements. Thus, for these two teachers, ‘good teaching’ is perceived as providing students

with a balanced social and academic life through ‘groupings’ (a form of Cooperative Learning in

this context in the urban school) where the students are encouraged to engage in harmonious

peer relationships which facilitate learning in the classroom.

Relationship is also the instrument which the other two teachers, Mrs. Francia, the

mathematics teacher, and Mrs. Pili, the Tagalog language and literature teacher, both see as the

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best opportunity in assisting their urban students cope with the strong academic pressure in

being in an honors class. This relationship however involves the teacher reaching out to students

in an effort to know and understand them as a person. While dismissed by most teachers in this

urban school, Mrs. Francia and Mrs. Pili however put caring student-teacher relationship as

priority in their practice of ‘good teaching’. Mrs. Pili’s relationship with her students is more

personal and less academic than Mrs. Francia’s. This way, Mrs. Pili is able to impart in her students

the value of learning other life skills other than those which are ‘purely’ academic and textbook-

based. Mrs. Pili views relationships as a vehicle in teaching her students the knowledge, attitudes,

and skills that build her students’ character, which she believes as the students’ ‘genuine’ access

to a better life. ‘Good teaching’ for Mrs. Pili therefore is building students’ good character.

Mrs. Francia, on the other hand, fosters strong relationships with her students however

more professional and academic than Mrs. Pili. Mrs. Francia’s positive relationships with her

students allow her to discover her students’ needs, priorities, and aspirations in school. Learning

these, Mrs. Francia aligns both her classroom practices and instructional methods to her students’

expressed needs and priorities (getting good grades) thereby assisting them to realise their

aspiration for their families (help parents give their family a better life out of poverty). The

student-teacher relationship exhibited by Mrs. Francia is nurtured within the classroom, during

teaching episodes, especially within her practice of lectures. While Mrs. Francia’s lectures

resemble ‘direct instruction’ (Rosenshine, 1986) and ‘teaching to the tests’ (Popham, 2001), the

methods that are associated with teacher-centered instruction, her practices however as

perceived by her students are not only as practices of ‘good teaching’ but also of ‘academic care’.

For Mrs. Francia, ‘good teaching’ suggests a set of instructional practices that are aligned to the

actual needs, priorities, and aspirations of the students.

This chapter revealed that teacher-centered practices that resemble ‘teaching to the tests’

can become practices of ‘good teaching’ when the element of relational care is present. In

examining Mrs. Francia’s way of teaching, we see how she used the learner-centered practice of

fostering student-teacher relationships to understand what her students actually need as learners

and using teacher-centered methods to respond to these needs. Her classroom practices become

too complex to be placed under the simplistic categories of learner-centered and teacher-

centered (good teaching versus bad teaching) especially when her classroom practices are

examined through the lens of relationships and care. This insight from Mrs. Francia’s classroom

practices calls for a reflection on the value of student-teacher relationships on student learning, a

value which is often overlooked, if not, ignored within the discourse of ‘good teaching’ in the

context of Philippine education. Therefore, it becomes critical to explore this value of relational

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care on student learning, engagement, and achievement from the perspective of the students

themselves. This is what the next chapter seeks to do as I explore how the urban students

understand and value relational care within their perceptions of ‘good teaching’.

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C H A P T E R S I X

“Explaining is caring” The urban students’ perceptions of good teaching

Introduction

This chapter draws on the student data from a junior class in the urban school to address the

question, Which of their teacher’s classroom practices do urban students find helpful in learning

well? In this chapter, I describe how this honors class of urban students highly value Mrs. Francia’s

practice of teacher-centered instruction, which they call ‘beautiful lectures’, a practice of good

teaching. While these lectures resemble direct and explicit teaching (Rosenshine, 1986) and

teaching to the tests (Popham, 2001), these students perceive the lectures as an act of care by Mrs.

Francia. I also discuss the role that ‘groupings’ play in reducing the academic competition among

these students. As I demonstrate through these students’ responses, ‘groupings’, a form of

cooperative learning in this urban school, are associated with acquiring social skills as well as

fostering group harmony and peer relationships, rather than developing cognitive skills. Looking

into these students’ responses, I conclude that their perceptions of effective teaching are related

to those which will help them to attain good grades, as this appears to be their utmost priority in

being in school. In exploring their conceptions towards ‘grades’, I identified several reasons why

‘good grades’ are important for these urban students. These are (1) meeting the expectations of

the school community; (2) honoring their parents; and (3) aspiring to help their parents give their

family a better life.

In examining the students’ responses about the caring practices of their teachers, I noted that

these students prefer student-teacher relationships that are built on what Weinstein and

Woolfolk Hoy (2006) refer to as academic care rather than personal care. This points to a

significant factor influencing these urban students’ indifference towards Mrs. Pili’s ‘personal’ acts

of relational care while responding positively to Mrs. Francia’s more professional and academic

relationship with them. I also discuss how very specific cultural elements within the urban school

community (i.e. the mentality behind sipsip which connotes a person who ingratiates to win a

favor) and the cultural concept of pasang-awa (to pass a student out of pity) can significantly alter

the ways in which classroom relationships are understood, valued, and actualised. I use this

discussion to argue that what is valued as good teaching is not only shaped by economic factors

but also by the expectations held about education, shared respect of teachers as an authority, and

the local ways of building relationships within cultural contexts.

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Most helpful teacher practices according to the urban students

There are thirty-one students in this grade eight class in the urban school. Twenty-two of these

students perceived Mrs. Francia, the Mathematics teacher, to be the ‘good teacher’ and identified

her as the teacher who gives the most ‘beautiful lectures’ among all teachers in their school. This

class of students also identified ‘groupings’ as a teacher practice that encourages them to

participate more actively in classroom activities and build positive relationships with their

classmates. Among all their teachers, these students also identified Mrs. Aga, the Biotechnology

teacher and Mr. Sirang, the General Science teacher as the two teachers who provide them with

the most engaging ‘groupings’ in class. The Tagalog language and literature teacher, Mrs. Pili, who

also uses ‘groupings’ in a way that it promotes the students’ critical thinking and whom I perceive

to be the ‘good teacher’ was not mentioned by these students in the focus groups during our

conversations about ‘good teachers’. In the succeeding sections, I discuss the three ‘good teaching’

practices which the urban students identified as most helpful in assisting them to learn well.

These are (1) providing activities within ‘groupings’; (2) giving ‘beautiful lectures’; and (3) fostering

student-teacher relationships during teaching episodes.

Providing activities within ‘groupings’

In my three weeks of observation in the grade eight class, the students generally showed positive

attitudes towards ‘groupings’. I also observed their high level of engagement in the group

activities which can be noted in the excitement they displayed (i.e. clapping and cheering, rushing

to join their groupmates) when their teachers announce that they are having ‘groupings’ in class.

In joining these students in their ‘groupings’, I noted that before proceeding with the group task,

they usually engage each other in a brief chat first. After a while, the students start discussing the

task at hand. While in their groups, I particularly noted that these students accommodate ideas

from all members of the group, consult everyone in the group on how to go about the task, and

help each other accomplish the agreed goal. Overall, I noted that these students have a positive

disposition while in groups, which is affirmed during our focus group interviews by one student,

Delia, who expressed, “I am happy whenever there are groupings because they are like a break from

all the lessons and studying”.

By ‘groupings’, the urban students refer to classroom activities performed in groups of six

or more students. These group activities, as I observe the urban teachers implement ‘groupings’

in this class, have two essential elements. Firstly, they are mostly play-based, which are either

patterned after a game or presented in an impromptu classroom skit. Secondly, the ‘groupings’

require students to produce creative outputs, which are not graded. In observing how the

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teachers use groupings in this honors class, it appears to me as the classroom observer that

‘groupings’, as a teaching strategy, is for promoting social skills and peer relationships. While such

intent behind ‘groupings’ is not communicated to the class, these urban students however appear

to have grasped the idea. Take for instance Edu, who finds ‘groupings’ important to his wellbeing

as a student. He expressed:

A lot is expected from us, it’s just too much pressure. Sometimes, I just want to be in school, and you know, for once, not to study. I study everywhere, here, at home, on the jeepney, everywhere! Even at recess, we all study. For once, we just want to be teenagers, have fun, make friends. That’s what groupings give us—a break from all this studying.

Like Edu, the students refer to a strong academic climate where much is expected of them. Being

assigned to an ‘honors section’ with a grade point average to maintain is a strong factor that can

contribute to the ‘academic pressure’ which Edu speaks of. Recognising such pressure, their

teachers, especially Mrs. Aga and Mr. Sirang, the two Science teachers who practised ‘groupings’

most frequently and creatively, designed their ‘groupings’ as a strategy to lessen the academic

competition and pressure in this class. They do this by creating ‘groupings’ which provide their

students with opportunities that promote their social skills and peer relationships through group

games, class skits, and creative outputs. This aligns with Delia’s earlier comment on how happy

she is whenever there are ‘groupings’ in class because these are “like a break from all the lessons

and studying” in the same way that Mila perceives ‘groupings’ helpful in creating a bond of

friendship with her classmates because ‘groupings’ make them “forget who is the top one, top two

in class”. Clearly, ‘groupings’ in Ciudad High School, are used for the purposes of reducing

academic competition among students rather than developing students’ cognitive skills. Peer

relationships therefore appear to be a priority behind the practice of ‘groupings’ in this urban

school.

How ‘groupings’ is valued in this urban school in terms of how it promotes peer

relationships lends support of Nguyen, Elliot, Terlouw, and Pilot’s (2009) notion that cooperative

learning (in Vietnam) is “likely perceived as a vehicle to reinforce relationships, with its impact

upon cognitive achievement usually being seen as less important” (p. 122). The value placed on

‘peer relationships’ in the practice of ‘groupings’ in Ciudad High School also supports F. Landa

Jocano’s claim that peer relationships are often valued more by students in the city than their

counterparts in rural communities. Based on their decades of ethnographic research on Filipino

youth, Jocano and Mendez (1979) observe that classmate interrelationships and winning friends

are among the top priorities among Filipino adolescents in the city. This is because, they argue,

that the more urbanized neighbourhoods and individualized lifestyle in the city makes it harder

for urban students to create relationships compared to students in rural schools who take peer

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relationships for granted as their classmates are usually their neighbours whom they have know

all their life. For Filipino adolescents in the city therefore, their classmates are regarded as the

closest peers, and winning their friendship becomes a priority in school for social support (Jocano

& Mendez, 1979).

Behind the urban students’ indifference towards Mrs. Pili as a ‘good teacher’

Promoting social skills and peer relationships appears as Mrs. Pili’s motivation for using

‘groupings’ in class. She introduces groupings through her teaching strategy, student-teams

reports (as discussed in Chapter Five) in which her students in groups of six ‘report’ their assigned

discussion topics through creative presentations such as class skits and role playing, among

others. Before allowing her students to proceed to their ‘groupings’, Mrs. Pili provides them first

with a brief orientation to the activity instructions, group tasks, roles of each member, and

expected group outputs (which are either project- or performance-based). With these expected

outputs, Mrs. Pili also directs her students’ attention to the grading rubrics which she writes on

the board. She explains to the class that their outputs will be graded according to these criteria.

After the students present their work in groups, I noted that Mrs. Pili would give engaging

lectures to explain the relevance of the group activities to her lesson. As I discussed in the previous

chapter, these lectures are punctuated with socially-relevant questions resembling a socratic

method of questioning. I also noted the positive relationship between Mrs. Pili and these urban

students, which I also described in detail in Chapter Five. Based on her practice, I perceived Mrs

Pili as a ‘good teacher’, however, across five different focus groups, the urban students fail to

recognise Mrs. Pili as a teacher who helps them most in learning well. To explore the reasons

behind this, I conducted an extra focus group with a selected group of eight students from the

same class. In this sixth focus group, I probed into the students’ views about Mrs. Pili and ask them

directly if they find her practices helpful in learning.

“We’d rather have groupings not graded”

While the eight students agree that Mrs. Pili is (also) a ‘good teacher’ and her ‘groupings’ are

helpful to learning well, they however disclosed that they would rather not have their group

outputs graded. The students agreed that instead of promoting peer relationships, Mrs. Pili’s

‘groupings’ fostered competition amongst members of the group. This is captured in this

interchange with the students:

Lucille: You said that you’d rather have your groupings not graded, why is that?

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Prim: Because, for example, in the rubrics when participation is 20 percent of our entire group grade, everyone wants to contribute ideas and have these written in the manila paper which we need to submit to [Mrs. Pili] as proof of contribution.

Leti: But there are too many ideas. They won’t fit in a manila paper but everyone wants me to write everything!

Lucille: Because you are the ‘group secretary,’ you mean? Leti: Yes, and then s/he will feel bad if his/her idea is not included in the manila paper. Lucille: Could you not explain to her or him what you’ve agreed in the first place as a

group? (The students paused and looked at each other before responding)

Leti: It doesn’t matter. He/She would still feel bad. Lucille: Why is there a need for this manila paper? Isn’t the performance of each member

enough as a proof of contribution? Gina: No, because before the actual performance, we need to discuss ideas first to

prepare for the presentation. We need to show that […] everyone contributes her/his idea.

Kiko: If you’re name isn’t there, you shouldn’t get any grade because you didn’t contribute your ideas.

Bong: If one’s idea is not included, that’s the start of a cold war in the group. Lucille: What does that mean, ‘cold war’? Bong: You won’t talk to each other anymore. Lucille: Why so? Pipay: Because he/she is a friend of this groupmate, friends taking side of friends, you

know. Then it becomes complicated. Lucille: Why don’t you seek your teacher’s advice and let her know what’s going on? Kiko: No, it will make things worse! That will make the cold war longer. (Group agrees) Mabel: And besides, we don’t want to bother ma’am of our petty quarrels. We want to

solve the problem of the group on our own. Lucille: Does it get resolved? Onyok: Yes, most of the time, but it takes time before friends become friends again […] Gina: But because we all are friends, we understand these things happen in the group, so

it doesn’t take that long. From this interchange, it can be noted that these students are particularly concerned about the

‘feelings’ of group members. Responses related to a concept of ‘avoiding one’s feelings to get hurt’

emerge from this extra focus group as these students talk about their reluctance to being graded

during ‘groupings’ in Mrs. Pili’s class.

As our conversation proceeds, these students further reveal that in order to “avoid hurting

[their] groupmate’s feelings”, as Gina explains, they simply give this groupmate “a passing score

even when she/he does not really help much […] for the sake of friendship”. Gina’s response echoes

Nguyen, Elliot, Terlouw, and Pilot’s (2009) notion on Cooperative Learning that a sense of ‘group

harmony’ in the classroom is valued more than individual accountability in some countries in East

Asia and Southeast Asia (i.e. China, Japan, Korea, Vietnam, Hong Kong, Taiwan and Singapore),

especially because relationships are found to be the priority within the practice of Cooperative

Learning in these countries. Individual accountability however is an essential condition for a

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successful implementation of Cooperative Learning in the classroom (Johnson & Johnson, 1999;

Gillies, 2004). This value of ‘group harmony’, as Phuong-Mai Nguyen and colleagues (2009) argue

based on their theoretical critique on the application of Cooperative Learning in Vietnam as part

of the country’s education reform, may come in conflict with one of the core principles of

Cooperative Learning—individual accountability, which often requires peer assessment to ensure

the participation of all members of the group. To prevent such conflict from arising within

cooperative groups, students (in the context of Vietnamese schools) tend to be careful in

assigning grades (or to some extent setting aside grades) to a member’s contribution to the group

to avoid the risk of hurting his or her feelings. ‘Hurt feelings’ from issues of grading within

Cooperative Learning arise when

a particular student, subject to peer assessment, may be considered not just as a group member but as ‘my classmate’ or ‘my close friend’. Furthermore, the student’s evaluation may be influenced on the grounds that he or she is ‘my neighbour’ or because ‘my father knows his/her family’. In each situation, members of the groups will be of unique importance to the individual, with a special history of positive and negative relationship. In such circumstances, a guiding principle is that one must therefore sustain, protect or discount this person no matter what the assessment rules say (Nguyen, Elliot, Terlouw, and Pilot, 2009, p. 16).

This notion of Nguyen, et al. (2009) on the conflict between ‘group harmony’ and the principle of

individual accountability of Cooperative Learning could explain these urban students’ reluctance

towards having their group outputs graded under Mrs. Pili’s ‘groupings’. Such reluctance arises

from “avoid[ing] hurting my groupmate’s feelings”, as raised by one of these urban students, Gina.

Nurturing group harmony through ‘pakikisama’

The ‘avoidance’ involved within dynamics of Cooperative Learning also appears in the study of

Nguyen, et al. (2009). This ‘avoidance’ however, as they argued, is not an act of evading conflicts

or being obliging. Instead, this ‘avoidance’ reflects a collective concern for the other’s interest than

one’s own (Nguyen, et al., 2009). For instance, in the context of Cooperative Learning in Vietnam,

‘group harmony’ is achieved when one group member avoids expressing independent judgments

towards another’s contribution (or non-contribution) to the group. Not only that this is perceived

egotistical and selfish, as Nguyen, et al., (2009) explain, expressing judgments may also run the

risk of leading others to ‘lose face’. It is through this ‘avoidance’ as a collective concern that ‘group

harmony’ is achieved within Cooperative Learning in Vietnam (Nguyen, et al., 2009). To some

extent this ‘avoidance’ could also be found in Gina’s previous response, particularly when she

disclosed that while her groupmate did not contribute much to the group, she still gave him a

passing score “for the sake of friendship”. This may reflect some form of a collective concern that

promotes ‘group harmony’ similar to what Nguyen et al. (2009) suggest; however, this could also

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be embodied in pakikisama (Jocano, 1997), a cultural concept in the Philippines which is

understood as getting along with others for the purpose of maintaining harmonious relationships.

Pakikisama can be demonstrated through acts of congeniality and sociability within groups

including efforts that avoid the risk of hurting others’ feelings (Ligo-Ralph, 1990; Miralao, 1997).

This sense of pakikisama (getting along for the sake of group harmony) could have influenced the

urban students’ reluctance towards grading their peers during Mrs. Pili’s ‘groupings’, considering

that peer relationships are a priority in this class of urban students in Ciudad High School.

‘Getting good grades’ as another priority

Apart from peer relationships, there is another priority which this group of students appear to

uphold; that is, ‘getting good grades’. The very purpose of ‘groupings’ in this school, which, as

revealed by Mrs. Aga and Mrs. Sirang, is to promote “friendships” and “camaraderie” in order to

reduce the academic competition among their students, suggest that these students place strong

value on grades and test scores. This is further evidenced in Prim’s response to my question, “while

you all agree that [Mrs. Pili’s] lectures are as beautiful as [Mrs. Francia’s], her groupings as engaging

as [Mrs. Aga’s and Mr. Sirang’s], and her relationship with all of you as positive as it can be, why do

you think most of you seem to forget about [Mrs. Pili] when we talked about your good teachers?”

Upon giving much thought to this question, Prim replies:

But it’s just Filipino (Tagalog subject). It’s not maths or science where we need to study really hard to get good grades. Besides, when you get good grades in maths or science, it means you’re brilliant. When you get high grades in Filipino, it’s nothing.

This response from Prim could be understood within the context of this junior class which is

designated as the ‘honors section’ in Ciudad High School. To be retained in this honors section,

these students must maintain a required grade point average especially in their four core subjects.

These are mathematics, general science, biotechnology, and English (grammar and literature),

which have higher academic weights than other subjects in computing for the final grade of these

urban students. This final grade determines the ‘top ten achievers’ in this class. This context could

have influenced these urban students’ perceptions of ‘good teachers’ towards those who teach the

four ‘core subjects’, as Prim’s response suggests.

The preoccupation of these students in Ciudad High School towards grades holds a

particular concern to me as a teacher and a researcher. In my fieldnotes, I made a comment that

the degree of attention these urban students give to their grades and test scores could significantly

distract them from acquiring the knowledge and skills that are valuable beyond school. This

knowledge encompasses those which, as the Filipino education philosopher, Jorge Bocobo (1928)

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describes, “widen a [person’s] vision, broaden his [or her] sympathies, and lead him [or her] to

higher thinking and deep feeling” (p. 103). By skills, I refer to those which are critical in developing

a habit of independent and sound reasoning, especially those which require them to think for

themselves without reliance on textbooks when faced with a problem that calls for their own

judgment. These students’ preoccupation with grades and test scores, accompanied by their

reliance on textbooks (to ensure accuracy of their answers), could, in Mrs. Pili’s words, “veer them

away from thinking on their feet, from using their common sense and to reflect on critical issues that

currently affect them.”

Mrs. Pili’s teaching practices, as I described in Chapter Five, de-emphasise grades by

encouraging these students to ask questions and engage themselves freely in discussions, without

expecting a ‘bonus point’ for every idea shared in class. However, in observing these students’

engagement behaviors across their classes under nine different teachers, I noted that without a

promise of a good grade in return for a question or idea raised in class, the less effort is exerted to

participate in the class discussions. This could indicate that this class of students may not be

trained for critical thinking, and the strong academic culture in Ciudad High School further

reinforces this. Within this context in which relationships are valued, grades are prioritised, and

academic achievement is aspired to, it appears that critical thinking sits uncomfortably beside

these (cultural) priorities. With their intense pursuit of academic achievement, students could

lose their sense of individuality, creativity, independent reasoning. Without these skills, Smith and

Sobel (2010) noted, the renewal of a society could be endangered as critical thinking fuels

innovation and change. This gives context to Smith and Sobel’s (2010) notion that “if children

learn to advance their own self-interest in a competition for higher grades, society suffers” (p. 86).

Society suffers, as Smith and Sobel’s (2010) explain, when the youth focus their talents and

energies in pursuit of grades rather than to contribute for the good of their community. However,

this notion is challenged by these students in the urban school as they reveal in focus groups that

behind their intense preoccupation with grades and test scores is a strong commitment to help

draw their families out of poverty. This then brings us to the second teacher practice which these

urban students report as helpful not only learning well (and improving their tests scores) but also

supportive of their aspiration to help their family; that is, giving ‘beautiful’ lectures, which they

associate with their maths teacher, Mrs. Francia.

Giving ‘beautiful’ lectures

Of their nine teachers who provide them with lectures, these urban students identified their

mathematics teacher, Mrs. Francia, as the one who gives the most engaging lectures, which they

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refer to as ‘beautiful teaching’. In describing what makes Mrs. Francia’s way of teaching beautiful,

one student, Dante, narrates:

[Mrs. Francia’s] lectures are just beautiful because she explains very well, she explains every single thing, even those tiniest of details to help us visualise the solution. I can even see the solution pops right out of the blackboard and dance gracefully in the air for me to catch! It’s amazing how [Mrs. Francia] teaches so beautifully.

For Dante, what makes Mrs. Francia’s lectures ‘beautiful’ is her clear and detailed explanations of

the mathematical concept behind each ‘problem set’. As an observer in this class for almost three

weeks, I can relate with the positive experience of Dante towards Mrs. Francia’s lectures. During

my observations in Mrs. Francia’s class, I noted her command in her subject which is reflected in

how she is able to transfer the same mastery and skill (and passion) to her students and even to

me as the classroom observer. In fact, I found her lectures quite engaging, as I mentioned in Mrs.

Francia’s vignette in Chapter Five, to the extent that I pay close attention to her explanations as

she demonstrates how one problem can be solved in various ways. Her engaging lectures invite

her students including me to ‘give it a try,’ despite the fear or anxiety of getting a wrong answer.

Her student Pilar recalls how Mrs. Francia is able to give “a twist” while her teacher gives ‘beautiful

lectures’. Pilar recalls, “In making us see the relevance of maths to life, [Mrs. Francia] segues from

the proof, ‘any number raised to zero is equal to one’ to this quotable quote where she says, ‘see class,

when you think there is nothing in life—zero, there is always The One’, which is funny but when you

think about it, it’s true to life. She reminds us to […] always stay positive”.

For these urban students, there is one essential element that makes Mrs. Francia’s

lectures ‘beautiful’—a clear, detailed, and elaborate explaining of concepts. This explaining serves

two purposes for these students. First, is for providing them with content knowledge and core

competencies they need in performing well during school examinations. Second, is for allowing

students to see the relevance of academic concepts to their every day life. Of these two, these

students prioritise the value of explaining in improving their grades in schools. Lolet, for instance,

prefers lectures over the ‘groupings’ provided to them by other urban teachers. She views these

lectures as “actual teaching” while her teachers’ use of ‘groupings’ as “not yet [actual] teaching.

It’s only a prelude to teaching. Actual teaching happens when a teacher starts explaining the lesson.”

Lolet further explains that “the lectures are the actual teaching because the teacher is in front,

explaining the lessons which helps us get good grades.” However, the groupings, as Lolet points out,

“don’t help us improve our grades but improve our creativity and social skills”. Lolet’s responses

further affirms that ‘groupings’ in this urban school is as a teaching strategy associated with

promoting social skills and peer relationships, not academic skills. For Lolet and her classmates,

teaching’ (for it be real or ‘actual’ for them) suggests a set of classroom practices where a teacher

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provides content knowledge that is aligned to where they will be tested, not those strategies

which mainly promote peer relationships and social skills. This actual teaching, which these

urban students refer to, resembles Popham’s (2001) curriculum-teaching, which requires

teachers to provide direct instruction for students to achieve a set of specific body of content

knowledge or cognitive skills represented by a given test. While associated either to ‘teacher-

centered instruction’ or ‘teaching to the test’, curriculum-teaching, as Popham (2001) argues,

when practised appropriately and effectively, could not only improve students’ content and skill

mastery on which the test items are based but also “elevate students’ scores on high-stakes tests”

(p. 17). These urban students’ perception of ‘beautiful teaching’ towards Mrs. Francia’s lectures

could then be explained by how these lectures assist them acquire the cognitive skills required

for them to get good grades in their school exams.

What are ‘good grades’ for?

Noting that ‘getting good grades’ is a recurrent response among these urban students across all

five focus groups, I probe into these students’ conceptions of the value of good grades for them

by asking the question, Why is getting good grades important to you? These urban students’

responses to this question reveal particularly telling stories behind what appears as their intense

preoccupation with grades and test scores. Take for instance this response of Lito who explains

why he studies hard and tries to score well in his school tests:

I need to get good grades because if I do then I can get a good job in the future. This

is my way of giving back to all the sacrifices mother did for me, […] doing (other’s)

laundry, just to send me to school, and for all the hard work my father did as a

trimobile driver for us seven siblings. Finally, it’s my turn to give them a live a good

life.

Lito’s response reveals the importance of grades for his and his classmates. For Lito and most of

these urban students from a disadvantaged neighbourhood, grades represent access to better life.

Coming from poor families, these urban students see that their achievement in school increases

their potential to be employed immediately after graduation. This way, they can finally draw their

families out of poverty and most importantly, help their parents and families live a better life.

‘Good grades are for honoring parents and helping the family’

It is important to note that the focus of these urban students’ attention for grades is ‘helping their

family”, especially their parents, more than employability. Note Lito’s emphasis on how he wishes

to give his parents his month worth of salary from his first job in the future, which is a gesture of

honoring his parents sacrifices in sending him to school. This gesture may in essence reflect a

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cultural construct among Filipinos who are expected to help and support their families especially

upon completing school. This theme of ‘helping parents on graduating’ also emerges in this

response of Nenita who tops her class. She narrates her story behind maintaining good grades:

I want to do more for my mother, who raised me and my sister on her own. She

works twice as hard, so I study twice as hard, too. Should I graduate with high

distinction, it will improve my chances to get to a good university in Manila for free

or maybe a scholarship abroad. That’s a huge help for my mother.

Nenita’s response reveals how maintaining good grades gives her the competitive advantage to

be eligible for university admission under full scholarship. Pursuing higher education in good

universities under a scholarship serves three purposes for Nenita. First, is that a college degree

from a good university increases her corporate employability in the city where job competition

is high. Second, is that getting to a university with a full scholarship becomes her gesture of

honoring her mother’s sacrifices sending her to school and in raising her well. In the Philippines,

there is a certain pride that parents hold when their children are admitted to universities under

a scholarship. This cultural construct is embodied within the local expression, ‘iskolar ‘yang anak

ko,’ which roughly translates to “my daughter/son is a scholar” which connotes “I’m proud and

blessed to have an intelligent and hard-working child who is helping us by being a scholar”. The

child then studies hard and maintains good grades because not only that it is expected and valued

in the family, it also brings honor to her or his parents (see Magno, 2010). Third and most

importantly, is that this enables Nenita to help her mother secure a better future for their family.

While this may simply appear as a personal aspiration for Nenita, her goal of ‘helping parents

upon graduation’ is also shared by other students in this school. It is from this context that these

urban students prioritize good grades and perceives Mrs. Francia’s ‘beautiful lectures’ as good

teaching as these lectures are aligned to their need to achieve academically and most importantly,

assist them in attaining their long-term goal of helping their family.

“When a teacher explains, she cares”

Not only are ‘beautiful lectures’ perceived as actual teaching and good teaching, they are also

perceived by these students as their teacher’s act of care. Consider for instance this response of

Pipay who recognises Mrs. Francia’s ‘beautiful lectures’ as an act of care for her students:

What more can a teacher do to show her care for her students than to give beautiful lectures? When [Mrs. Francia] explains clearly and thoroughly, even when she does this repeatedly without getting frustrated with us, isn’t this care? She cares that […] we couldn’t fail otherwise our dreams for our family would be shattered.

Hearing this response from Pipay, Onyok who belongs to the same focus group as her, further

adds his thoughts about why he also thinks Mrs. Francia cares for them. Comparing Mrs. Francia

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with his other teachers, Onyok comments, “my other teachers do not want to repeat their

explanations or even reteach. They say that it’s our job to figure out things on our own. They don’t

care if we fail”. Agreeing with Onyok, Leti comments that their other teachers do not care for them

as much as Mrs. Francia does because, as Leti noted, these teachers simply “leave us with seatwork,

modules, or workbooks. Once they’ve taught the lesson, that’s it—job done. If we don’t understand

the lesson, they make us feel it’s our fault”. This is not the case with Mrs. Francia, remarks Gina,

another student in the same focus group, who explains that “[Mrs. Francia] never stops explaining

until we all understand. She makes her teaching beautiful by giving very clear lectures and many

examples.” Because of Mrs. Francia’s effort in giving clear explanations within her lectures to

ensure that her students attain conceptual and operational mastery in maths, Gina perceives that,

“[Mrs. Francia] really cares.”

The responses from these students suggest that care is recognized from a teacher’s

classroom practices that directly support their academic need to achieve. This ‘academic caring’

also includes those teaching methods that primarily aim to develop students’ conceptual

understanding and mastery, both of which are necessary test-taking skills. Therefore, Mrs.

Francia’s practice of good teaching through her ‘beautiful lectures’ is perceived by these urban

students as care because they acknowledge that Mrs. Francia aligns her teaching methods not

only to their (short-term) goal to score well in exams but also to what these scores and grades

represent—an access to provide a better life for her students’ family. These urban students trust

that Mrs. Francia provides them with clear and well explained ‘beautiful lectures’ in an effort to

assist them achieve their long-term goal of ‘helping their family’. Apart from Mrs. Francia’s

‘beautiful lectures’, these urban students also perceive care from their positive relationship with

her, which they also identify as a practice of ‘good teaching’. This then leads our discussion to the

third and last teacher practice which these urban students perceive as ‘good teaching’—positive

student-teacher relationship ‘during’ teaching episodes.

Establishing caring student-teacher relationship in the classroom

Amongst all nine teachers in this urban junior class, I observed that there are only two teachers

who demonstrate practices which intend to establish good relationships with these students.

These are Mrs. Francia, and Mrs. Pili. With Mrs. Francia, I observe that she fosters relationship

with her students through random and simple acts such as exchanging conversations with several

students as she circulates the room while monitoring her students’ progress on their seatwork.

Conversations were usually about the students’ daily commutes, their academic standing in other

classes or catch-ups about their studies and plans in school.

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In observing these students’ behaviors under nine different teachers in this urban school

for almost three weeks, I noted that they seem most comfortable with Mrs. Francia in a way that

they consistently displayed cheery disposition and strong engagement in Mrs. Francia’s lessons

day by day. I also observed that these students do not seem to hesitate in showing their answers

or expressing their thoughts in class even when these might be wrong. The students’ relaxed

demeanor, despite that they are frequently tested, is particularly interesting to me as an observer

in a Maths class. While there are some notions in the Philippines that students are ‘terrified’ of

their maths teachers, the behaviors of these students suggest the opposite with what is happening

in Mrs. Francia’s class. This is reflected this response from her student, Aida, who expressed that

when Mrs. Francia becomes her teacher, she does “not hate maths or get ‘nosebleeds’ (a local

expression that connotes anxiety or fear) from numbers anymore”.

In the case of Mrs. Pili, I also observe that she has a good relationship with these students.

I noted this when she sits with them in their ‘groupings’ for a catch-up, sings with students during

their creative presentations, speaks their language which make these students cheer for Mrs. Pili

when she uses ‘cool millennial’ phrases, and stays after class hours to speak with them and their

parents. I perceived Mrs. Pili as the teacher who practises ‘good teaching’ and ‘relational care’ as

evidenced by the way she creates positive relationships with these urban students, alongside her

engaging lectures punctuated with ‘socratic method’ of questioning and her use of use learner-

centered teaching strategies to promote critical thinking (as discussed at length in Chapter Five).

Of these two teachers, however, it is Mrs. Francia whom the students identify as the teacher who

practises ‘good teaching’ and extends ‘relational care’ with them.

Maintaining a ‘teacherly’ distance

To probe into these students’ conceptions of ‘relational care’, I asked the eight students in the

extra focus group to describe their relationship with Mrs. Francia in comparison with their other

teachers. In general, these eight students reveal that they prefer Mrs. Francia’s way of building

relationship with them; that is, in Pipay’s words, a “relationship with care but still mindful of

maintaining a teacher-student distance”. By ‘student-teacher distance’, these urban students refer

to how a teacher maintains her “being teacherly [referring to authority],” as Bong explains, “so her

students respect her but should also be approachable, so her students can still talk to her”. Another

student in this focus group, Mabel, suggests that a teacher should be mindful not to be “too friendly

or else the students may abuse her kindness and use her friendship as an excuse not to study

anymore”. Agreeing with Mabel, Kiko also expressed his thoughts, “The student who is this

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teacher’s friend might think, ‘I’m teacher’s friend anyway, she can’t fail me’. So, this student ends up

being complacent in class”. This however, as these students emphasised, does not happen with

Mrs. Francia because she knows how to balance the right amount of, in Bong’s words,

“teacherliness and friendliness”, especially when practising good relationship with her students

which is fostered through her random acts of caring such as ‘talking to students’.

A number of students in this focus group reported that they find talking to Mrs. Francia

helpful in their studies, because, as Gina explains, “it’s nice to talk about our fears of failing a

subject or the possibility of getting kicked-out of this honors section. She always tells us to stay

optimistic.” Hearing this, Gina’s classmate, Leti, narrates her experience in talking to Mrs. Francia:

When she approached me whilst we were having a seatwork, she asked how I’m doing so far. Later, I start opening up to her about how dumb I felt when I got 76 in a test. She told me, ‘grades are something, but they’re not everything’. I just […] have to study harder. Then, she reminded me of my strengths and the times I got perfect scores in her previous tests.

In examining this response of Leti, I noted two elements within her descriptions of her

conversations with Mrs. Francia. First, is that most of these conversations are about academic

concerns. Second, is that these conversations take place inside the classroom, especially while

their class with Mrs. Francia is still on going. Given these two elements, I asked Leti and her

classmates in this extra focus group whether they had a chance of setting a time after school or

during breaks to talk to Mrs. Francia. I also inquired if they happen to talk with Mrs. Francia about

other things aside from their academics. This interchange with these urban students reveals

several conditions of student-teacher relationships within their conceptions of ‘relational care’:

Lucille: I notice that most of your conversations with [Mrs. Francia] are during classes. Do you happen to talk to her after class?

Leti: Yes, but we rarely talk to her outside the classroom. Lucille: Is she still available for, say, consultations after school or during breaks maybe? Pipay: Ma’am says she is free anytime. But we all know she’s busy and we are shy to take

her time from work just to talk to us one by one. So, we just maximise our classroom time and make it our consultation time, too, which is usually during seatwork.

Lucille: Given a chance, would you want to talk with [Mrs. Francia] individually, say outside the classroom, maybe in the faculty room? (Awkward silence in the group)

Lucille: I’m sensing that you may not be comfortable with that, am I right? Kiko: Yes, because when people see that you are talking to your teacher in the faculty

room, they’ll think it’s something really serious […] Bong: or you’ve done a grave offense or something. Then, other people might think

differently about us. We don’t like that. We want to have the conversations here in the classroom. At least here [in the classroom], we won’t be judged.

Mabel: And besides, when you talk to your teachers outside the classroom, you always end up talking about really personal and ‘icky’ stuff.

Lucille: Does that mean you want to limit your conversations about academics then? Onyok: Yes, more of academics, less personal.

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Gina: Should it be about personal stuff, only those which are directly related to our academics.

From this interchange, these students made it clear that when engaging in a conversation with

their teachers, especially with Mrs. Francia, they usually limit the topics to academic matters. More

importantly, these conversations must be inside the classroom during class hours. Otherwise,

these students become particularly sensitive that other teachers and students might think they

are ‘difficult or remedial students’ who are about to fail in school.

Keeping conversations ‘less personal, more academic’

These students further reveal that in keeping their conversations with the teacher limited to

academic matters, a student is able to avoid the impression that, as Gina describes, “he is

ingratiating himself with his teacher by telling her his personal struggles at home which he may use

as an excuse for his mediocre performance in school”. Gina’s response suggests that in telling their

teacher their ‘personal story’ (that is, the poor conditions at home or their disadvantaged

backgrounds and their daily struggles to be in school), this teacher might think that this is their

way of influencing her not to fail them “out of pity” after learning their ‘personal stories’.

Furthermore, others might misinterpret a student’s regular conversations with a teacher or an

attempt to establish a close relationship with a teacher as, in Pipay’s words, “sipsip”, a local

expression which means to win the favour or sympathy of a teacher so as to secure a good grade

or at least, to avoid failing her class. This cultural concept of “sipsip” could explain these urban

students’ preference for a ‘relational care’ that maintains a certain teacher-student boundary

where a teacher keeps a professional distance from her students and provide ‘academic care’

(inside the classroom) only when sought by the students or when conditions call for it.

Another important response that these urban students reveal is that, as expressed by

Bong, they “tend not to open personal matters with a teacher to avoid the possibility that this teacher

will communicate the problem [they] confide with her to [their] parents,” which, as Bong further

explains, “adds another layer of academic pressure. It’s already very difficult to keep up with the

expectations of our teachers, so much so of our parents’”. Sharing a similar view with Bong, Mabel

also expressed,

I am not comfortable when teachers reach out to talk to me in private about what’s going on with my life at home. Then, try to make assumptions that my difficulties at home are the reasons why I show lackluster class standing. Sometimes, the lessons are just really hard, as simple as that. That’s why I need them to help me learn better more than sympathizing with my emo-moments.

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The responses of these students, particularly Mabel’s, send a powerful message that for student-

teacher relationship in this honors class within an urban school to be perceived as an act of

‘relational care’, it must satisfy two conditions. Firstly, in fostering student-teacher relationships,

a teacher should engage students in conversations which focus on assisting them cope with their

academic demands. Secondly, these students’ desired time and venue for these academic

conversations are within class hours and inside the classroom. Otherwise, these students become

anxious about being judged by others as “sipsip” (roughly translates to the English expression to

“a person who licks someone’s boots”). Within the context in this school, “sipsip” holds a negative

connotation that in establishing rapport with a teacher through regular conversations (which

focus on personal concerns), a student intends to win her approval or get her sympathy thereby

securing a favourable grade in class out of “pasang-awa”, which means to pass a student ‘out of

pity’ due to a student’s expressed personal struggles at home. A student who is perceived as

“sipsip” and is given a grade out of “pasang-awa”, as these urban students explained, is frowned

upon by his peers and is thought to be undeserving of the grade and should not be retained in an

honors class.

The perception of relational care among these students in this class suggests convergence

with the student data in Garza’s (2009) study which show that students perceive care from

teachers who provide ‘affective academic support in the classroom setting’ (p. 310). In his study,

Garza (2009) reported that students (i.e. Latino) perceived that they are most cared for by

teachers who ‘provide scaffolding during a teaching episode’ while unconsciously ignoring their

teacher’s affective caring practices and effort in establishing ‘personal’ relationships. These

students’ perception of care, as Garza (2009) argues, could be brought about by the pressures of

tests. This academic pressure could explain the Latino students’ placing greater value on academic

help over personal relationships in terms of their perception of care. It is under this lens of

academic care which could shed light in understanding these urban students’ perception of ‘good

teaching’ towards Mrs. Francia’s ‘teaching to the tests’ and ‘teacherly relationships’ as both

support their academic need to achieve. While Mrs. Francia’s practices are mostly ‘teacher-

centered’, they are however perceived as practices of ‘good teaching’ and ‘academic care’ as her

approach in teaching directly responds to these urban students’ priorities in school and future

aspirations. This therefore challenges the notions that limit ‘good teaching’ to learner-centered

practices. Furthermore, this illuminates the ways in which teacher-centered methods and

classroom relationships which maintain teacher-student hierarchy are valued within a cultural

context where good grades are prioritised because of the value ‘grades’ represent—a gesture of

honoring and helping one’s parents, and an access to a better life for the family.

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Conclusion

The urban students’ perceptions of ‘good teaching’ and ‘relational care’ revolve around the value

these students placed on test scores and school grades. For instance, because these students

strive to get good grades, they prefer teaching methods which provide them with the content

knowledge and cognitive skills that they can apply during school exams. When a teacher practises

these teaching methods with an intent to assist students score well in tests, her practices as

perceived as ‘good teaching’. Such is the case of Mrs. Francia whose classroom practices resemble

direct teaching (Rosenshine & Stevens, 1986) and curriculum-teaching or ‘teaching to the tests’

(Popham, 2001) which, while both regarded as ‘teacher-centered’, are perceived as ‘good

teaching’ practices by these urban students because these practices support their academic need

to achieve.

With these urban students’ strong academic need to achieve, it becomes important to

understand where their intense preoccupation with grades comes from. In engaging within the

stories these urban students tell and analysing their narratives, I noted two critical factors which

are at play behind these students’ priority of getting good grades. The contextual surrounding of

these students presents as the first factor. Unlike their rural counterparts whose surrounding

communities extend far beyond their classroom, in which each ‘circle’ of community (i.e. school,

home, neighbourhood, rural village) has a different set of expectations, these urban students,

conversely, appears to have their school as their immediate (and only) community. Belonging in

this school community, these students strive to meet the expectations within. The expectations

that usually arise from this (school) community are almost always and mainly academic in nature.

The second factor is the ‘cultural value assigned to grades’. These urban students’

narratives about studying hard to get good grades illuminate the way in which ‘good grades’ are

valued as a gesture of honoring one’s parents. ‘Good grades’ become a child’s ‘token of

appreciation’ for her or his parent’s sacrifices in sending her or him to school in spite of being

poor. As the parents work hard to send their children to school, the children, in return, study hard,

too. This way, they demonstrate to their parents that they are helping the family in their own way.

Grades therefore also become a gesture of helping parents. This is because ‘good grades’ serve

many purposes to an urban student and her family—a competitive advantage for university

admission under full scholarship (which means that parents need not to worry about the money

for tuition); a sense of security of being employed upon graduation; and lastly, an access to a

better life out of poverty. Most importantly, ‘good grades’ bring pride and inspiration to the

family, showing that despite being poor, the child is able to excel and achieve in school. ‘Good

grades’ then bring a promise of life full of possibilities for an urban student’s family.

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The two factors behind the urban students’ priority towards good grades send a powerful

message on how certain cultural elements influence not only the priorities these urban students

have in school but also their preference for classroom relationships. For instance, because getting

good grades is their priority, these urban students prefer a less personal and more ‘academic’

relationship with their teacher. However, when it comes to peer relationships, these urban

students value close and personal peer relationships. This could explain their active engagement

in cooperative groups which they refer to as ‘groupings’. In this urban school, ‘groupings’ is

understood by its students as a way for their teachers to encourage peer relationships in the

classroom. Peer relationships in this urban school is encouraged because such relationships are

believed to reduce the academic competition among students. Thus, for ‘groupings’ to be

successful in fostering ‘classmate interrelationships’, the student participation and outputs

produced from these groups must, as these urban students suggest, not be graded to avoid conflict

among students arising from issues of academic competition. To some extent, this challenges the

core principle of individual accountability under Cooperative Learning (see Gillies, 2004; Thanh,

Gillies, & Renshaw, 2008), where peer assessments are often necessary to ensure active

participation of all members in the group or scoring rubrics are provided to guide students how

their group output will be assessed. On one hand however, the value these urban students place

on ‘groupings’ in promoting peer relationships supports Nguyen, Elliot, Terlouw, and Pilot (2009)

notion that Cooperative Learning in some parts of Asia (i.e. Vietnam and Singapore, among

others) is prioritised for fostering classroom relationships rather than developing students’

cognitive skills.

The value these urban students place in ‘groupings’ also show their need for social

support from their classmates. This mirrors Jocano and Mendez’s (1979) notion that Filipino

adolescents in the city tend to value ‘classmate interrelationships’ more than their counterparts

in the rural schools because these rural students take for granted their classmates as these are

also their relatives or neighbours whom they know all their lives. This is not the case for students

in the city where the more urbanized and individualistic lifestyle makes it difficult for these urban

youth to establish social relationships outside school. This could explain these urban students’

more personal relationships with their classmates than their teachers.

A more professional relationship with their teachers is perceived as ‘relational care’ by

these urban students. This can be noted in their perception of care from Mrs. Francia’s ‘teacherly

relationship’, which is how these urban students refer to a student-teacher relationship which

respects the hierarchical role of the teacher. For these urban students to recognise a teacher’s act

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of ‘relational care’ as indeed care, the teacher has to fulfill several conditions. Talking to students

on a regular basis in the classroom during (and not after) teaching episode marks the first

condition. When teachers talk to their students in the classroom, as these urban students reveal,

they spare their students from being judged by their peers as “sipsip”, a local expression which

holds negative connotation towards a student (either a mediocre or high-achieving) who

ingratiates herself or himself to the teacher in the hope of getting a good grade. The complex

dynamics in this junior class—that is, its strong academic climate which puts grades as a priority

while also placing great value in group harmony and peer relationships—makes these urban

students particularly sensitive and cautious about being perceived as “sipsip”. This also explains

why these urban students prefer to limit their conversations with teachers to academic matters

and not on their personal concerns. This presents the second condition for these students to

perceive care from a teacher’s act of ‘relational care’.

These students also tell us that should they talk to a teacher and express their personal

struggles at home which explains their poor class performance, they may be labeled as “pasang-

awa”, roughly translated, this means a student who is “passed out pity”. While getting a favourable

grade, “pasang-awa”, however holds feelings of shame within the person. This is because while

clearly failing a subject but is observed to show persistence in school, a student, especially who

comes from a very poor family, is allowed to pass, so she or he needs not to retake the subject

otherwise it would cost her or him another year-worth expenses in school. With this, ‘academic’

conversations and professional relationships with their teachers are preferred by these students

so as to avoid being a subject of their teacher’s pity and end up receiving a passing mark given

out of pity. This explains why these urban students value ‘professional distance’ within student-

teacher relationships as this gives them a sense of self-assurance that should they receive a good

grade from their teacher, it is well deserved and rightly given. When a teacher understands such

complexities within these urban students’ conceptions of ‘relational care’ and acts based on this

understanding, her effort to care is likely to be recognized as care by these urban students, which

is the case of Mrs. Francia.

This urban students’ perception of care towards Mrs. Francia’s more ‘teacherly’

relationship with them over Mrs. Pili’s affective and personal acts of relational care suggests a

preference towards ‘academic caring’, which, as Weinstein and Woolfolk Hoy (2006) describe, is

a form of care high-achieving students recognise from teachers who provide structure in the

classroom and assist them in academic matters (Phelan, Davidson, and Cao, 1992). Academic

caring is also associated by successful students to their teachers who care for their academic work

and help them get good grades. There is also another kind of care—personal caring, which, on the

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other hand, is valued among students of challenging backgrounds from teachers who are

concerned about their home lives, personal problems, and futures (Weinstein and Woolfolk Hoy,

2006). This could explain why these urban students who are high-achieving students assigned in

an honors class perceive care towards Mrs. Francia’s clear and well-explained ‘beautiful lectures’

and ‘teacherly relationship’ with them. Such practices of Mrs. Francia, while are mostly teacher-

centered, give these urban students a sense of security that the academic care she extends

supports their priorities in school (getting good grades) and assist them in achieving their

aspirations in life (helping their family).

The findings generated from the student data in this urban school support Michele

Schweisfurth’s (2013) claim that one significant barrier to the implementation of learner-

centered practices in particular cultural contexts is how the principles of Learner-Centered

Education (as the education reform) seem to come in conflict with the local ways of understanding

relationships. It becomes critical therefore that these local ways of fostering relationships and the

cultural respect of teachers within a community be examined to understand what teaching

practices (either teacher-centered or learner-centered, both, or maybe others) and forms of

classroom relationships assist student engagement and achievement. Such understanding could

inform pedagogical decisions that not only address the needs, priorities, and aspirations of

students. Most importantly, such understanding allows one to recognise specific cultural nuances

in terms of how relationships are valued and practised, thereby making students’ classroom

experiences more meaningful and relevant, allowing them to learn well in school.

The local ways of group harmony and relationships and how these are valued within the

culture present as significant barriers to the practice of learner-centered teaching in this urban

school. The contextual realities in this urban school compel us to question the appropriateness of

prescribed learner-centered strategies on a deeper level of culture and whether these fit the local

ways of understanding teaching, learning, and relationships. Such a question pushes the

boundaries of how teaching and learning should be conceived (pedagogy and relationships),

according to whom (authority and power), and most importantly, whose standards (local or

global). These are the questions that challenge the existing binaries between learner-centered

and teacher-centered pedagogies, contesting the notions that limit ‘good teaching’ to prescribed

learner-centered practices.

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C H A P T E R S E V E N

“The teacher is still, and will always be, the classroom authority”

Teacher practices of Mrs. Alab and other teachers in the rural school

Introduction

This chapter explores how teachers in a junior rural disadvantaged public high school understand,

value, and set out to practise good teaching. In doing so, this chapter tells the story of Mrs. Alab

whose instructional methods, although predominantly teacher-centered, are identified by the

rural students as practices of ‘good teaching’. In this chapter, I analyse the way Mrs. Alab asserts

her ‘authority’ and emphasises classroom discipline, using as a reference point the first of

Weimer’s (2002) five key practices to implement learner-centered change in the classroom: the

balance of power. I also examine Mrs. Alab’s authoritative approach in teaching using

Schweisfurth’s (2013) notion that student engagement varies based on cultural expectations of

education and associated traditions of respect for teachers.

I highlight the ways in which Mrs. Alab maintains her ‘authority’ while she fosters personal

relationships through ‘home visits’, a common teacher practice amongst the rural teachers. I also

discuss the influence of ‘home visits’ upon student engagement and learning using this discussion

to challenge Weimer’s (2002) notions on power and relationships under learner-centered

teaching, arguing that in this rural setting teacher ‘authority’ engenders meaningful relationships

and learning.

I compare the quality and depth of ‘relationships’ between the rural and the urban school, finding

that in this school, rural teachers nurtured a deeper sense of relational care albeit that this is

exhibited in practices which appear teacher-centered. I use this discussion to argue that teacher-

centered practices which promote deep and meaningful relationships with the students and the

rural community are practices of ‘good teaching’ in that they uphold the village’s local values,

expectations, and priorities towards education.

I start this chapter by using a short vignette to describe the context of the rural school, Barrio

Public High School.

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A two-hour jeepney ride and a walk uphill

The peak of this mountain called Isarog is framed by the branches of wild

santol trees whose red leaves flutter in the breeze, waving and rustling to

welcome me to this quaint little village. Finally, after a couple of hour’s

commute, I start my walk uphill.

On my left, as I walk, are thatched huts with mothers sitting on bamboo floors, babies on

their laps, fanning themselves to escape the thirty-five-degree sun. Fathers are cutting firewood.

Some are fixing their jeepney engines or having their casual midafternoon gin spree with other

men. Under a coconut tree, a couple of elderly men comb the feathers of their endeared fighting

roosters after puffing cigar smoke to the dazed fowl. “Gud apternun, Ate,” greeted the kids who

are fetching pails of water from a nearby well. I greet them good afternoon back. As they are

headed to the rural school, I walk with them with a pail of water in my hands.

The next day, it is the first day of my classroom observation. At six forty-five, the early

morning fog still clings to the grass. A stone-throw away across the school gate, patches of rice

fields and paddies surround a grazing carabao, filling up for its day’s work. The air is crisp and

filled with anticipation. At seven comes the morning rituals. Rows and rows of students stand in

front a bamboo-flag pole. As the flag is raised, so too are the voices of the students as they sing

the national anthem. As the singing fades, a group of students greets me.

“Hello, Ate! Are you our visitor?”

“Yes,” I said, “but I’m more like one of your classmates, too.”

They giggled and said, “You look a little old to be a high school student. Are you from the

centro?” I smile and told them I am from the city. “You have a beautiful school,” I said to the

kids. “It’s even lovelier at sunset,” they exclaimed. Then, a teacher comes along. We have a

lovely little chat until the school bell rings. It is time for class. The teacher ushers me to my

classroom.

Seeing me at the doorstep, the students hasten to take their shoes out from under their

wooden chairs and put them on. They all stand to greet me, “Good morning, visitor. Mabuhay!”

“The students seem shorter and skinnier here than those in the city,” I thought to myself.

Then, their adviser introduces me to the class. Mr. Ugma asks me to say a few words about

myself.

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“Maray na aga! My name is Lucille. You can call me Ate,” I said with a big smile. “I’m

here to be your classmate, too, not just an observer”.

Then one boy whom they call Doy sighs in relief, “Hay, Salamat!” The girls giggle and the

boys cheer up. The students in the front row said, “Welcome, classmate!” The classroom is filled

with applause and beaming faces.

The students start asking me more questions. “Let your new classmate sit down first,” Mr.

Ugma said. It is time for the first class. Mr. Ugma offers me his desk. “It’s okay, Sir. I could sit at

the back.” Overhearing me said this, one of the taller boys in the back row gets a chair from the

corner, wipes the armrest with his hands, and offers me the seat. Seeing this, one of the girls

remarked, “Very good, Pedro!” The class seems pleased with Pedro. Everyone is in a good mood.

Barrio Public High School: A demographic and socio-economic profile

Surrounded by acres of rice fields, this rural high school is a public and nationally-funded

educational institution. It is located approximately 30 kilometers away from the city center and

close to the foot of Mt. Isarog, the highest peak in the province of Camarines Sur.

Barrio High School has five main buildings, three of which have 13 rooms actively used

for its 25 teaching staff. Each room can hold an average class size of 37. The fourth building is for

the principal’s office and a small library. The fifth is the Home Economics building which holds

classes for technical-vocational subjects such as cookery, dressmaking, and handiwork. This rural

school has an average of 483 enrollees each year coming from nearby farming communities of

around 1,571 households. The families in this village are mostly living in makeshift housing or

classified as informal settlers registered with high cases of poverty, malnutrition, and illiteracy.

With its total population of 7,917, at the time when I conducted my fieldwork in this rural school,

this rural village has the record of the highest rate of poverty threshold among all villages within

Naga City in 2015. From the Census Report in 2015, the number of households (13.2 percent) in

this rural village which experience hunger due to food shortage is higher than the entire

households in the city combined (6.3 percent). This rural village also has an unemployment rate

of 6.6 percent, which is comparatively close to the 8.4 unemployment rate in the city. In addition,

the rural village has been reported to have high rates of informal settlers and households in

makeshift housing, with no access to water and toilets, and significantly with the highest case of

mortality among children five years and under due to malnutrition. With 41.8 percent of its

children, aged twelve to fifteen years old not attending high school, the rural village has a

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significantly higher rate of high school dropouts compared to the 37.8 percent in the city (Faces

of Poverty in Naga City: A Community-based Monitoring System Census Report 2013).

The junior class

The class designated by the school principal for my observation is composed of mixed-level ability

students aged thirteen to sixteen. While not technically called an ‘honors class’, this grade-eight

class is where the top-performing junior students are placed. It is also from this class that student

representatives for various school and city-wide academic competitions such as quiz bees and

other extra-curricular contests are selected. There are 39 students, including 22 boys and 17 girls.

There is no minimum grade point average required from the student to be retained in this

‘section’. However, they are expected to get a general grade average of 70 percent in all subjects

in order to move up to grade nine.

Classes at Barrio High School commence at seven-twenty in the morning. There is a thirty-

minute recess in the morning. At eleven o’clock, the students especially those who live in the

village across the rice fields stay in the classroom for their lunch break. Classes in the afternoon

resume at one-thirty and then the school day ends at three-forty in the afternoon, an hour earlier

compared to the urban school as it takes students approximately one hour to reach their homes

by foot.

There are eight teachers teaching eight different subjects in this junior class. The core

subjects, namely: English, Maths, General Science, and Social Studies have more weight on the

computation of the students’ grade point average than the rest of the subjects, which are Tagalog

language and literature, Values Education, Physical Education Health and Music, and Home

Economics and Livelihood Education. I observe that all these eight rural teachers share five

common practices, which are: (1) giving lectures or ‘teacher-talk’; (2) maintaining ‘teacher

authority’; (3) encouraging student activities in pairs rather than in groups; (4) incorporating local

themes and values; (5) creating strong ties with the family through home visits. Teacher practices

1, 2, and 5 are discussed in this chapter which focuses on the English teacher, Mrs. Alab, who

exemplified the role of a teacher as an ‘authority figure’ while using these three practices. Teacher

practices 3 and 4 are discussed in the next chapter which focuses on Mrs. Ningning, whose

practices are more aligned to learner-centered teaching. The succeeding section opens the story

about an English teacher named Mrs. Alab.

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The teacher who stands seven feet tall

“What was that market-like noise all about?” The class suddenly turns silent. In

her deep raspy voice, with her arms crossed and eyebrows scrunched, Mrs. Alab

continues to speak, “Some of your classmates are still answering. Is that what we

mean by ‘consideration of others’?” The students evade Mrs. Alab’s eyes by

looking at the floor. “For those who are done, review your work. For those who

are still working, you still have five minutes.”

While most of the boys in the front row towered over Mrs. Alab, in moments like

this, she stands seven feet tall.

The students continue copying Mrs. Alab’s sentences on the board until she runs

out of chalk. Seeing this, two students in the front row hurriedly looked for some small

pieces of chalk stuck in the bottom corner of the blackboard. Seeing that there isn’t any

chalk left, Mrs. Alab calls Doy and tells him to get something from the faculty room. Doy

comes back with pages of an old calendar and a few black crayons.

“Sorry, Ma’am,” he tells his teacher, “there’s no chalk left. I just have these for

you instead.” “Never mind”, replied Mrs. Alab, “we will make do.” She writes a sentence

on the back of calendar.

“Look at this class—Ben and his little brother took their carabao to the rice fields

and bathed it in the pond,” she reads what she wrote, “Is this a simple or a compound

sentence?”

One student answers, “it’s a compound sentence because it used the conjunction

and, Ma’am.” A moment of silence wraps the class until one student speaks, “But and

there was only used to connect the two subjects, Ben and his brother,” she disagrees,

“which are not two independent clauses by the way.”

“That’s right,” says a third student, “the second and simply connects two verbs

that share the same subject, Ben and his brother”.

“What does that mean, class?” asked Mrs. Alab. A student from the back row

replied, “that sentence is still a simple sentence with a compound subject and a compound

predicate”.

“Very good!” Mrs. Alab seems pleased. Mrs. Alab continues, “Class, do not be

fooled by the and here. Not because your textbook says compound sentences may have

the conjunction and, that’s always the case. You have to pay attention to the details of the

sentence, make sense of it. You don’t simply assume right away without thinking. Like

any other thing in life, you don’t simply assume. You have to make sense of things first.”

The students smiled.

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Mrs. Alab: A figure of authority

Within my three weeks of observation in Mrs. Alab’s class, I noted her strong use of an

authoritative style of classroom management alongside her practice of a teaching method which

resembles a ‘chalk-and-talk’ approach. In the vignette, I seek to capture Mrs. Alab’s emphasis on

classroom order and discipline. In my interview with Mrs. Alab, she explains that her practice of

being tough with students is necessary for her “to deliver the lessons and carry out the learning

objectives”. Mrs. Alab’s believes that her practice of authoritative classroom management allows

her to make students “sit down, stay in the classroom, listen, and learn. Once a teacher is strict,

everyone listens. No one dares to misbehave”. Misbehaviors and non-academic noise are not

tolerated by Mrs. Alab’s because she thinks that

when a few students get distracted, the entire class is affected. How can learning take place […] if there are a handful of students chatting here and there, going out of the classroom to just loiter around the campus?

In classes with the other rural teachers, I observed a particular student who regularly leaves the

classroom. He sometimes took quarter of an hour to a whole period to return. I did not observe

this to happen in Mrs. Alab’s class. Should a student be out for more than five minutes, Mrs. Alab

sends two students to look for the student. One time, on my second week of observation, a student,

Pedro, asked Mrs. Alab’s permission to go out. She asked Pedro if he had completed his module

exercise. He scratched his head and returned to his seat. Noticing that I looked concerned about

this student, Mrs. Alab sat beside me in the back row whilst the students were busy with their

seatwork. She explained to me that Pedro has a record of what is called in the Philippines as

‘cutting classes’. Mrs. Alab told me that the other teachers let him go out as he pleases and they

have grown tired of him sneaking out of class. Disturbed by Pedro’s frequent poor behavior, Mrs.

Alab visited his house, as she recalled, and found out that the reason he does not come back to

class right away is that he goes to the farm, as told to her by his father, to harvest rice. Everyone

assumed that he was just loafing around but he was actually helping his family. Mrs. Alab

continued to tell me that she talked to Pedro’s parents and they all agreed that during weekdays

at school hours Pedro should be in class, while on weekends he will be on the farm. According to

Mrs. Alab, it is in these cases like Pedro’s that made her decide to be strict with her students. For

her, the value of being a tough classroom authority cannot be fully understood unless one has

become a rural teacher in the village. She recounts her experience:

My twenty years of teaching here in Barrio High School taught me that rural teachers need to be strict, so students realize that you want them to learn. They must know you are the authority here in the classroom […]. When [I] come to class, they understand that [I am] there to teach and they are here to learn [… and] not to go out of the classroom to loaf around.

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There are two salient points to take note from Mrs. Alab’s beliefs behind her practice of ‘chalk-and

talk’ and her emphasis being the ‘classroom authority’. This “teacher-talk”, as Mrs. Alab calls it,

where she gives lectures while impressing upon the students the value of discipline, indicates two

critical roles of a teacher—a ‘content expert’ and an ‘authority figure’. These two particular

teacher roles, which are often associated with teacher-centered instruction, have been a subject

of debates on power relations in discussions about learner-centered classrooms (see Weimer,

2002; McCombs & Whisler, 1997; Cornelius-White & Harbaugh, 2010).

Teacher authority is a contested issue in learner-centered teaching. The complex issues

surrounding this ‘teacher authority’ are broadly discussed by Weimer (2002). She discussed the

way in which the role of the role of the teacher as the classroom authority is severely critiqued in

three various areas in critical and feminist pedagogy, and cognitive and educational psychology in

relation to constructivist views on learning. These schools of thought have challenged the long-

standing assumptions about a teacher’s exercise of power and authority in the classroom which

often benefits the teacher more than it promotes student learning. A significant figure among

those who strongly promote learner-centered practices in the classroom, Weimer (2002) suggests

a rethinking on the role of teachers as an authority in the classroom. She argues that ways of

teaching which place the emphasis on the role of a teacher as the ‘authority’ figure poses a threat

to the fundamental principles of learner-centered teaching. A strong focus on this ‘teacher

authority’ arguably discourages the teacher to practice teaching strategies which promote student

engagement and learning. Moreover, authoritative teacher roles arguably magnify the gap

between teacher and students, obstructing positive interactions and relationships to flourish in the

classroom. Much of the literature on learner-centered teaching, particularly the works of Weimer

(2002) have pushed for a shift of power from the teacher to the students, making the dynamics in

the classroom more egalitarian and democratic.

To achieve a greater sense of democracy in the classroom, Weimer (2002) identifies five

dimensions where key changes must be made to make teaching become learner-centered, three

of which are relevant to what I have observed in Mrs. Alab’s class. These dimensions are the

distribution of power in the classroom, the function of content, and the role of the teacher. Given the

emphasis Mrs. Alab placed on her role as a ‘figure of authority’ in terms of classroom management,

her practices seem to depart from the learner-centered classroom practices which Weimer (2002)

describes. For teaching to be truly learner-centered, Weimer (2002) suggests that the shift of

power must move from the teacher to the student. She argues that much of the focus of the

teaching and learning process has long been placed on the teacher who controls and regulates the

flow of student learning, from the pace at which content is to be covered to the materials that

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students have to master. Much of this control, as Weimer claims, is motivated by a teacher’s “need

to be in control and assert [her] position and authority over students” (p. 27). Furthermore,

Weimer (2002) argues that power centered on the teacher only perpetuates the disregard of

students’ rights and needs as learners. She claims that teachers have long exercised a considerable

amount of power over student learning so that their ‘authority’ in the classroom remains

unchallenged. Such need for power, Weimer (2002) noted, results from a teacher’s “vulnerabilities

and desire to manage an ambiguous and unpredictable situation successfully,” (p. 27). Once this

power and control remain firmly with the teacher, instruction continues to be “very teacher

centred and what makes many students disinterested in learning” (Weimer, 2002, p. 45).

Given Weimer’s (2002) discussion on the balance of power in a learner-centered

classroom, my observation of Mrs. Alab’s practices appears to lean heavily towards describing her

as teacher-centered in her practice. My observation is further reinforced by Mrs. Alab’s belief that

‘teacher-talk’ and lecture methods are indispensable to teaching. Mrs. Alab asserts that

“even if they say that the new K to 12 curriculum in the Philippines has to be learner-centered, the teacher is still and will always be the classroom authority—to let the students know what to do, then affirm whether they are doing it correctly or not”.

Mrs. Alab’s teaching philosophy on how teachers must maintain their role as a figure of authority

resembles a very teacher-centered view on teaching. Learner-centered teaching for Weimer

(2002) involves a reallocation of power in the classroom. Simply put, power must be shared with

the students. This sharing of power for Weimer (2002) is carried out through teaching strategies

where students work together in a more democratic environment such as active, collaborative,

and cooperative learning and other inquiry-based approaches. Adopting these approaches leads

to a shift in the role of the teacher from a ‘content expert’ to a ‘facilitator’. These student-led group

activities are not evident in Mrs. Alab’s class. She identifies the “time consuming nature of

groupwork as a challenge” in letting students learn in cooperative groups. Mrs. Alab justifies her

teaching practices by raising this question:

Should I have cooperative learning groups in this class, I would need extra six class sessions but we only get to meet five times in a week. So how do I go about that, given the limited time and too much content to cover?”

This view of Mrs. Alab prioritising ‘content’ over the process of discovery through learning in

groups among students could be another point of critique for Weimer (2002). The function of

content is another dimension within which she calls for change to make teaching more learner-

centered. Instead of focusing on covering large amount of content material, Weimer (2002)

suggests that learner-centered teachers need to shift roles from ‘content experts’ to ‘facilitators’

and divert their attention on how they can guide the student to ‘uncover’ the content material

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through discovery and exploration. Learner-centered teachers are cautious of using lectures and

textbook-based drills which could perpetuate the development of low-order thinking skills such

as simple recalling and memorizing. Weimer (2002) argues that a strong content orientation that

gravitates towards covering as much learning material as possible poses a barrier in the teaching

and learning process. This is because a focus on content explicitly impedes teachers in coming up

with creative pedagogies that bring about valuable life skills in students, who in turn, end up

regurgitating what was memorized. When teachers focus less on delivering content and more on

developing student learning, they begin to step aside and become a ‘guide-on-the-side’ as they

encourage students to experience active and experiential learning. As soon as the teacher takes

on the role of a facilitator, as Weimer (2002) maintains, the teacher starts to give students more

control as they gain more freedom in their learning. Change in teaching approach follows the

moment power is shared with students as teachers relinquish their assumed authority in the

classroom. As the power dynamics in the classroom is balanced, students in turn become

empowered, sustaining their motivation to learn and achieve. Therefore, as Weimer (2002)

argues, when power in the classroom is balanced, interactions become more democratic, teacher-

student relationships more egalitarian, learning more active, and the teaching more learner-

centered. In practising learner-centered teaching, as Weimer (2002) suggests, teachers need to

understand that power dynamics in the classroom has critical implications on teaching and

learning, to the extent that it frames and even distorts learning processes and interactions in the

classroom, including the crucial dimension of positive classroom relationships. It then appears

that a way of teaching that highlights the teacher’s role as an ‘authority figure’ may not only limit

student engagement but also obstructs opportunities for student-teacher relationship to prosper.

Within Weimer’s (2002) description of learner centered teaching, Mrs. Alab’s practices

appear quite far from being learner-centered considering that there was heavy emphasis on

‘teacher-talk’, student drills, and ‘teacher authority’. However, while her teaching seems very

teacher-centered, behind her lectures and authoritative style of classroom management is a desire

to help students. I noted this desire to help from Mrs. Alab’s emotional sharing of her students’

stories. Holding back her tears during our interview, Mrs. Alab expressed:

My students come from poor families. As much as I want to give, I couldn’t as I am poor myself. So, in my own way of helping them, I make sure that […] they learned something […] from me. I need to give justice to their […] sacrifices just to be in school. So, if it needs for me to do long lectures, to re-teach if necessary, […] even to be a disciplinarian, I’ll do it […] for my students.

It can be noted here that behind her seemingly teacher-centered practices are principles which

seem to align to learner-centered teaching. This response therefore suggests two things: firstly,

Mrs. Alab recognizes her students’ needs and backgrounds, and secondly, Mrs. Alab aims to help

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her students focus on learning. To have this broad awareness of where her students come from

and her desire to help her students learn are indicative of a relationship between Mrs. Alab and

the students.

The relationship between Mrs. Alab and the students is evident early on during my first

day of observation. When the students are having their seatwork, I observed Mrs. Alab circulates

the room and looks at the work of those who are finished with their workbook exercise. As she

walks around to look at her students’ seatwork, I overhear Mrs. Alab asking one of the girls, “How’s

everything at home? Is your mother okay?” The girl nods and says something softly to Mrs. Alab.

They are interrupted when one boy approaches Mrs. Alab and shows her his notebook. She looks

at the boy’s answer, smiles, writes something and returns the notebook to him. The boy smiles as

he reads Mrs. Alab’s notes. Then, Mrs. Alab comes back to the girl, sits beside her, and listens. After

a while, Mrs. Alab notices the time and reminds the class that they need to check their work. My

observation of this existing relationship between Mrs. Alab and her class is affirmed by the

students during their focus group interviews. It is in the students’ long narratives about Mrs. Alab

that their relationship transpired. In these narratives, the students also reveal their perception of

Mrs. Alab as the “strict teacher whom we respect” (FG1; FG2; FG4); “who gets angry at us and

reprimands us when we it’s clearly our fault (FG3); the “teacher who makes us disciplined in our

studies” (FG3); “the teacher who is strict because she wants us to learn” (FG4) and whom “you know

for sure is a good teacher, because she’s strict” (FG3; FG5). From here, it can be noted that the

students seem to value Mrs. Alab’s toughness as a teacher, which could explain their perception

of a ‘good teacher’ towards Mrs. Alab. However, this perception of Mrs. Alab being the ‘good

teacher’ alongside her existing relationship with the students despite her teacher practices that

emphasize her ‘authority’ appear to be inconsistent with Weimer’s (2002) notion on power and

relationships in a learner-centered classroom.

‘Teacher authority’ in a Filipino context

Respect for elders and deference to authority are a deeply valued trait among Filipinos (Jocano,

1997; Ligo-Ralph, 1990). In a school context in the Philippines, respect for authority figures can

be traced from how much Filipino’s give great value to education because it is considered

instrumental in securing a better future and achieving personal life goals (Okabe, 2013; Magno,

2010). Filipinos perceive that authority figures in schools have a crucial role in the success of

student learning, to an extent that their influence impacts student drive and motivation to attend

school and achieve in class. Given this, it is essential for students to engage themselves in positive

and respectful interactions with authorities such as the teacher. This can be shown by showing

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courtesy when speaking with teachers, restraining themselves from answering back when being

reprimanded, and even projecting a pleasant demeanor when their work is critiqued. Such

demonstration of respect through restraint of emotions is valued to facilitate harmony and even

learning in the classroom (Magno, 2010).

The Filipino shared respect for teachers as ‘authority figures’, of course, may influence the

ways in which students identify whether a teacher is ‘good’ and ‘effective’. For instance, it could

be possible that the rural student’s perception of Mrs. Alab as a ‘good and effective teacher’ may

have been influenced by fear, which they may deny or may not be conscious of, mainly because it

has been deeply ingrained among the students through the school culture. It could also be due to

the rural students’ limited exposure to teachers whose mode of teaching is more interactive and

whose approach of behavior management is more democratic. The limitation in such cultural

mentality becomes evident when a perception of a ‘good teacher’ is biased towards a ‘strict

teacher’ whose practices are those which are valued and often desired within a culture, thereby

perpetuating the use of certain practices which are perceived good despite that they could in fact

place students at a disadvantage. This is not the case however with the rural students in my study.

The rich narratives of the rural students, which I discuss in detail in the next chapter, attest to

their recognition of Mrs. Alab’s genuine concern for her students and a deep awareness of her

effort to assist their personal struggles out of poverty.

The rural students recognize Mrs. Alab’s effort to care for them, to which they

acknowledge by giving Mrs. Alab the respect she deserves. With such respect, the rural students

reveal that they are able to see clearly the value of education, the value which their parents have

been telling them about. Such value placed by Filipinos in education is discussed in a Philippine-

based study of Magno (2010), which comprehensively reviews different literature on Asian value

systems in terms of education. Magno (2010) observes that for Filipinos, education is a part of a

legacy that parents leave to their children. Because of this orientation, the child continues to value

this legacy by exerting effort and working hard in school and maintaining high standards of

excellence in studies, as expected by her or his family, teachers, and peers. Filipino students, as

Magno (2010) describes, are commonly expected by their parents to get high scores in tests, pass

board exams, and be included in the list of honor students. The child exerts effort to meet these

standards because it is valued in the family. It is valued because achievement in school paves the

way for the Filipino child to be a responsible wage earner (Naval, 1979) in the future and

eventually becomes the breadwinner to draw the family out from poverty.

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It is useful to note that in the Philippines, there is a cultural mentality among Filipinos

which is carried through a common expression, ‘kaya strikto kasi magaling’, which roughly

translates to ‘strict because good and effective teachers all are’. In a Philippine classroom context

therefore, having that ‘teacher authority’ is already a given—a construct deeply entrenched in the

Filipino consciousness—a teacher needs not to ‘assert’ authority over the students. Simply put,

teachers in the Filipino context simply have to maintain their authority rather than impose it on

their students because ‘teacher authority’ is sought and inherently valued within the culture. The

Filipinos’ respect for a teacher as an ‘authority figure’ also comes from a belief that the teacher

has the ‘authority’, in other words, the ‘expertise’ in a given discipline; thus, she has the

competence to transmit that expertise to the students. From such position of authoritative

knowledge therefore, the teacher is expected to equip her students with the knowledge and skills

they need to succeed in life.

Giving lectures or ‘teacher-talk’

In observing Mrs. Alab’s class, I noted that she devotes a large amount of time giving lectures, or

‘teacher-talk’ as she calls it. During this ‘teacher-talk’, I also observe Mrs. Alab incorporates ‘life

lessons’ and ‘character formation’ stories into her lectures. At times, she also uses these stories as

a way to manage student misbehaviors instead of giving punishments or reprimanding students.

For instance, on my third week of observation, while Mrs. Alab is circulating the class during

seatwork and talking to random students, several girls in the front row, who are done with their

work, tried to humor Mrs. Alab about their plan of cutting class in their last subject in the

afternoon so they can go to the city mall. Mrs. Alab appears to have said something to the girls but

as I was seated at the back, I was not able to hear what she said. When all the students are finished

with their seatwork, Mrs. Alab asks the entire class if they found the seatwork difficult. The

students said there are parts which were challenging but the others were manageable. Looking a

little more serious, Mrs. Alab assures the class that despite how difficult things are in school they

must always persevere. Then, Mrs. Alab starts to tell a story about her own high school days. She

tells the class that being the eldest, she was in charge of taking care of her younger siblings when

her parents were off to the rice farm early in the morning. She tells the class that she cooked

breakfast for her three brothers and five sisters, and helped them prepare for school, walked with

them to school. She also shares with the class that back then, she sold boiled bananas on her way

to school, so she could save money to buy slippers, pencils, and tablet paper for her and her

siblings. She narrates her story in a way that the students laugh with her grand gestures and lively

recalling of how she used to walk to school barefoot with goats munching at her basket with boiled

bananas, so she would run very fast as the goats chase her. She also recalls that she almost had to

stop school when her parents did not have enough harvest that year. But because she saved money

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from selling boiled bananas and from cleaning the homes of affluent families in the city, she did

not have to stop school. She ends her story by telling the students that having a difficult life did

not stop her from going to school because she wanted to help her parents give a better life to their

family. She reminds the class that it never occurred to her to stop school or get absent from class

because “a day off school is a day away from reaching my dreams”. After saying this, she glances at

the girls in the front row and smiles at them. The girls smile back.

Apart from its positive gains on managing student misbehaviors, ‘teacher-talk’ is, Mrs.

Alab noted, a useful teaching practice in assisting students acquire a fuller conceptual

understanding of the lesson. In my interview with her, Mrs. Alab expressed that “teacher-talk is

very important in helping students retain and understand important concepts. [She does this] by

injecting a couple of questions or pointers here and there, from time to time”. By pointers, Mrs. Alab

refer to specific strategies that allow students to recall concepts easier. For instance, on the second

week in which the lesson is about compound and complex sentences, Mrs. Alab gave the students

the mnemonics ‘FANBOYS’ to represent the first letters of the seven coordinating conjunctions

which are commonly used in compound sentences. In her ‘teacher-talk’, Mrs. Alab explains the

difference between the two kinds of sentence by asking the students several questions within the

lecture. Later, Mrs. Alab provides the students with many examples of sentences using the

conjunctions and assist them in coming up with ‘tip questions’ so they can distinguish a compound

from complex sentence.

Similarly, another rural teacher, Mrs. Agham, the Science teacher in this junior class, also

practises lectures which are punctuated with questions to promote student thinking. Mrs. Agham

explains that “posing scientific problems through questions at the start of the lesson trigger students’

imagination and challenge them to relate science concepts to what makes sense to them”. In

introducing their lesson on electricity and batteries, Mrs. Agham starts by asking the students, “Is

it possible to trap a lightning in a can as big as your thumb?” This question instigated curious

responses from the students. On the third week of my observation with Mrs. Agham, when the

lesson is about Ohm’s Law, the students had difficulty remembering its formula I =V

R and

confused it with another formula for power which is P =w

t . Sensing this confusion, Mrs. Agham

told the students to assign a word in their dialect to each letter of each formula, so that the words

for each formula create a sensible sentence. The students made funny word associations to the

each of the two formulas and by Friday when they had a quiz, most of the students got a perfect

score.

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Mrs. Alab’s and Mrs. Agham’s separate practice of ‘teacher-talk’ in this junior class show

similarity with ‘reciprocal teaching’ and ‘direct instruction’ respectively, which are both regarded

as teacher-centered methods. Mrs. Alab’s ‘teacher-talk’ where she provides her students with

mnemonics while challenging them to come up with their own ‘tip questions’ to distinguish

compound from complex sentence resemble the cognitive strategies promoted under reciprocal

teaching (in Rosenshine and Meister, 1994). On one hand, the ‘trigger question’ of Mrs. Agham

about a battery resembles the ‘hook’ question under direct instruction, which is used to grab

students’ attention and build their engagement in learning (Rosenshine & Stevens, 1986 in Hattie,

2009). While the ‘teacher-talk’ of Mrs. Alab and Mrs. Agham aligns with teacher-centered

instruction, it is not entirely ‘teacher-centered’ as projected by those who promote learner-

centered teaching. The way this ‘teacher-talk’ develops the conceptual understanding of the rural

students appears to challenge Weimer’s (2002) claim that practices that highlight teacher

‘authority’ could stifle student learning and engagement.

During the ‘teacher-talk’ of the rural teachers, particularly Mrs. Alab’s, I observed the

students listening attentively to the lectures and paying close attention the explanations and

questions of their teachers. In Mrs. Alab’s short vignette at the start of this chapter, it can be noted

that the students freely express their thoughts in responding to her questions. There are instances

however when the students are quiet during lectures. I observed the rural students write notes as

they listen to their teacher, which I took as an indicator of the students’ engagement despite their

silence. My observation however may be viewed differently by another observer, as the silence of

students during lectures could be interpreted as a passive form of learning. Student engagement

is critically important to learning. However, as Livingston, Schweisfurth, Brace, and Nash (2017)

claim, student engagement is not universal. For instance, while dynamic and interactive learning

arrangements are prioritized to sustain student engagement in some classrooms, this may not

work in other contexts. In the same way that

silent communal attention demonstrated in classrooms in some cultural contexts allows for particular pedagogical forms which demand sustained concentration. Such teaching practices would not motivate learning in classrooms in other contexts. This motivation stems not just from what learners are experiencing in the classroom, but from cultural expectations of, and respect for, education and teachers (Livingston, Schweisfurth, Brace, & Nash, 2017, p. 13).

Such claim can be observed in the teaching and learning arrangement in this rural school,

particularly how this arrangement is heavily anchored on cultural values and priorities towards

the role of the teacher and education as whole. It would then be critically important to note that,

in line with Livingston, Schweisfurth, Brace, and Nash’s (2017) argument, these rural teachers’

heavy practice of lectures and the preservation of their role as the classroom authority could

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reflect the expectations of this rural community from the education its youth will receive through

the teacher. These expectations may include the desired skills, knowledge, and attitudes the

community has for its rural youth. As the teacher is given high regard in this rural community, she

is expected to be the ‘authority’, an expert of a knowledge which is not easily accessible in the

rural community. Hence, such authority is carried out best in the practice of lectures, the method

of teaching which both addresses the academic needs of students and satisfies the expectations of

the rural community.

Perceived value towards ‘teacher-talk’ and ‘teacher authority’

The rural school teachers’ take on the indispensability of lectures and teacher authority, at a

glance, could be simply understood in terms of the limited resources in the rural school. This

apparently makes sense given the poor economic context in the rural school. Say for instance, the

average book to student ratio per class in the rural school is 1:3, a common scenario among public

schools in the Philippines. In worst cases, there is no single textbook available for the students.

There are also a limited number of reference materials and instructional aids in the rural school

library. The students do not have access to internet given the absence of computers and the

intermittent influx of power in the rural community (Alba, 2010; Bautista, Bernardo, & Ocampo,

2008; Luz, 2009). Such a scenario in the rural school appears sufficient to justify its teachers’

heavy emphasis on lectures where they need to explain the lessons in utmost detail to compensate

for the students’ limited access to information. The economic context of the rural school could

then provide a valid explanation behind its teachers’ extensive practice of lectures as the teacher

is the main source of knowledge. It could then be surmised that lectures are the default method of

teaching in the rural school given its economic context. In some cases, it could be also interpreted

that these practices are a context-responsive ‘hybrid’ (Stelmach, 2011; Barrett, 2007) of learner-

centered teaching, modified due to the economic constraints and limitations of the rural school.

‘Pakikisama’ or maintaining harmonious relationships

In examining the ‘cultural expectations of and respect for education and teachers’ (Livingston,

Schweisfurth, Brace, & Nash, 2017), the rural teachers’ use of lectures and other seemingly

‘teacher-centered’ methods suggests that their pedagogical choices and practices are beyond a

mere response to the poor conditions in the rural school. In this light, consider how Mrs. Alab

justifies her practice of lectures in line with the presumed teacher-centered and learner-centered

binary. She asserts that

lectures are not entirely traditional (bad). It can even be learner-centered (good) because the students listen. One learns from listening. It is a very important skill not only in school but also in life.

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As a figure of authority, the teacher is expected to equip the rural youth with the essential life

skills and attitudes valued within the community. While these skills are basic, they are central to

the fabric of the rural community. The skill of listening during lectures teaches the rural students

the value of respect, which is the same value upheld in the village when interacting with the local

elders. Behaving properly and keeping quiet teach students courtesy. Coming to school on time

and completing homework manifest discipline. Writing notes and studying well in school train

students to be hardworking. Sharing a textbook with a seatmate and following classroom rules

demonstrate the Filipino concept of pakikisama (maintaining harmonious relationships). It then

appears to me, as the observer, that in the rural school, its teachers are not just figures of authority

in the classroom per se, but rather the key figures whom the rural community has given the

authority to pass onto its youth the knowledge and skills valued within the village. Thus, in their

practice of lectures and use of authority in managing student behaviors, the rural teachers seek to

develop life skills among their students. This is captured in a response of another rural teacher,

Miss Rosal, the Values Education teacher, who expressed that as a teacher in a rural school, her

main responsibility is “to equip the students with the essential skills they will need to be successful

in whatever way they can contribute to the rural community, such as farming, local or overseas work,

among others”. Most importantly, these skills allow the students to integrate well in the rural

village, to allow them to fully immerse within the community and help them achieve a sense of

belonging.

Considering contextual influences on the practice of teacher-centered methods

In examining these rural teachers’ practices, particularly, Mrs. Alab’s, we could see that beneath

the surface of what could be dismissed outright as ‘bad teaching’ given its seemingly teacher-

centered features is a rich and complex interplay of culture and context of teaching and learning,

including those which are valued or prioritized in education within a cultural place. Such

interplay challenges the presumed dichotomy between teacher-centered and learner-centered

teaching practices. As relationships in the rural school are deeply anchored in a cultural mentality

where ‘teacher authority’ is valued for its influence in promoting student learning, the argument

raised by Weimer (2002) in advancing learner-centered teaching where teachers relinquish their

roles as authority figures, sensible and attractive as it is, however fails to acknowledge the

cultural dimensions of ‘authority’. This therefore becomes problematic considering that teacher

roles and classroom relationships are understood and valued differently in the Philippine context.

Thus, a consideration of the ‘local culture of teaching and learning’ is critical in understanding the

practice (or non-practice) of learner-centered teaching in various contexts. For instance, the

practice of learner-centered teaching in some cultures, as Schweisfurth (2011) observes, is

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particularly demanding in general “because of the profound shifts required in teacher-learner

power relations” (p. 427) where teachers struggle to balance control and attain greater sense of

democracy in the classroom. This is particularly the struggle the rural teachers in my study face

when they see the need to maintain their ‘authority’ (presumed as a teacher-centered practice)

to allow for classroom relationships (regarded as learner-centered) to flourish. The rural teachers

are then placed in a difficult situation where their effort to maintain their authority is perceived

as ‘teacher-centered’ and ‘traditional’, when within the context of the rural school, such

‘authority’ is valued as an ideal practice of a ‘good teacher’ and even allows for classroom

relationships to prosper. This therefore appears to trouble the dualistic teacher-centered and

learner-centered notion that maintaining ‘teacher authority’ and use of lectures inhibit

opportunities for positive relationships to flourish in the classroom.

Furthermore, teachers also struggle when, as Schweisfurth (2011) notes, in creating a

sense of democratic climate in the classroom, they are faced with the reality that the process in

attaining such democracy takes up a large amount of time for negotiation. Teachers then end up

spending allotted time negotiating and re-negotiating classroom policies to the extent of

compromising academic teaching and learning time (Schweisfurth, 2013). Such is the case of Mrs.

Alab who expressed her concern on how hard-pressed she is on achieving the prescribed

curricular goals within “limited time [but] too much content to cover”. Her concern could be further

understood in a context where the national curriculum in the Philippine public schools is fixed

making it more challenging to be ‘learner-centered’ as prescribed. This is because the learning

content, targets, and pace are not usually negotiable given the tight academic timeframes. These

timeframes are also subject to unforeseen events such as natural calamities that could suspend

classes up to one week minimum. Thus, public schools cannot afford further delays, especially that

rural schools are seriously impacted by these disasters which further place them at a greater

disadvantage. An average of nine tropical cyclones make landfall in the Philippines each year

(PAGASA, 2013). At the time of my classroom observation in the rural school, it has just recently

recovered from a typhoon which caused the cancelation of classes for almost a week. These

contextual realities within the rural school could explain Mrs. Alab’s deliberate choice in using

teacher-centered methods (i.e. lectures, drills) over the learner-centered-prescribed student

group activities, which she considers “time-consuming”. For Mrs. Alab, teacher-centered methods

enable her to control the content, pace, and interactions within the limits of a fixed curriculum and

the geographical and contextual realities in the rural school. Such need for this control could also

explain Mrs. Alab’s emphasis on her role as classroom ‘authority’ as opposed to Weimer’s (2002)

notion that the need for control arises from the desire to assert position over the students. Thus,

for Mrs. Alab, her ‘authority’ allows her to efficiently manage time by enforcing classroom

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discipline to avoid further delays caused by student misbehaviors. In the same way, Mrs. Alab’s

extensive use of lecture method, which she calls ‘teacher-talk,’ further allows her to manage time

efficiently.

In the next section, I discuss another pedagogical practice which most teachers in the rural

school perceive as a practice of good teaching; that is, conducting home visits.

Creating strong ties with the family through ‘home visits’

The practice of visiting students and their families in their homes is common in this rural school.

In my interviews with the rural teachers, they spoke vigorously about their practice of ‘home

visits’ as they narrate to me their experiences in managing student misbehavior and

disengagement. Most of them explained that they use ‘home visits’ as a technique in addressing

the high dropout rates in the rural school. In the case of Mrs. Alab however, her practice of home

visits is quite distinct from that of her colleagues. This is because it is not only the ‘difficult and

disengaged students’ whom Mrs. Alab pays a visit, but also those students who are doing well.

Mrs. Alab narrates:

I also come by their homes and let their parents know how proud they should be of their children. That way they’ll not pull their kids out of school and require them to work on the farms instead.

Mrs. Alab put forward her belief that home visits are imperative to ‘good teaching’ as these visits

provide her with a “deeper understanding of [her] student’s family background and find out

whether this is a factor why he is poor in class”. In the succeeding sections, I outline the evidence

as to the advantages of home visits, using my analysis of the rural teachers’ stories of their

practice in visiting their students’ homes.

Keeping rural students in school

It is important to note that the practice of home visits sets the rural school apart from the city

school. While the urban teachers have reservations on home visits as they reported that their

students find these ‘too personal and intrusive’, these rural teachers on the other hand did not

raise any such concerns. As Mrs. Alab points out, a home visit is “part and parcel of teaching.” She

recounts her several experiences of visiting her students’ homes which would take her an hour

to reach by foot from the rural school. Her stories do not only reflect how families in the rural

community look forward to having teachers visit their children. Most importantly, Mrs. Alab’s

long narratives about her home visits suggest an existing strong sense of ‘relationship’ between

her and the rural community. It is this ‘relationship’ which Mrs. Alab anchors on in encouraging

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the parents to let their children stay in school. Mrs. Alab disclosed that parents in the rural village

would

keep their kids away from school (because) they’d rather have their kids work on the farm so they can bring home rice or money for the day’s work. This explains why some five kids drop out of this school every year.

This insight from Mrs. Alab provides a glimpse of a much larger issue on increasing dropout rates

in rural public schools in the Philippines. This high incidence of Filipino students dropping out of

school could be attributed to, as Okabe (2013) suggests, the ‘indirect cost of education’. While the

Philippine constitution states that public education in the country is free, Okabe (2013) observes

that Filipino students are bound to spend for their education given the cost of transportation,

school materials and clothes as they wear uniforms starting elementary grades. With this, Okabe

(2013) claims that in the Philippines, “free education is in fact not free, especially for poor

households” (p. 24). This explains why Filipino youth in remote disadvantaged rural communities

are compelled to drop out of school to earn for the family. At an early age, Filipino children in

rural farming or fishing communities are expected to contribute to their household. Therefore, in

poor farming communities in the Philippines, there is a notion of ‘foregone income’ among

children who are at school and not on the farms. Okabe (2013) observes that

among the poor, the tendency is to value the earning of money on a short-term basis at as an early age as possible; therefore, the tendency is to prefer less schooling as long as people accomplish the level of education that they initially demanded. Although myopic, for the poor it is often a choice between a certain fruit in the near-term from labor and job and the future uncertain fruit from education” (p.25).

Filipino public school students, as Okabe (2013) observes, are expected to earn for the

family while staying in school. The same can be said in the case of the rural students in Barrio

High School. Take for instance this insight I learned Mr. Ugma, who is also the rural students’

Music, Arts, and Physical Education teacher. In Mr. Ugma’s class which starts at seven-thirty in

the morning, I observed several students sleeping on their seats. Whilst the class is having some

art activity, four students seem to try their best to stay awake. I observed that the rest of the

students are highly engaged on their seatwork except for these four who are asleep in class. As I

was seated in the back row, I am quite surprised that Mr. Ugma did not bother to call the attention

of these four students. I also noticed that the other students make an effort to try not to bother

their sleeping classmates. In my interview with Mr. Ugma, I asked him about these four students.

He then explains that one of those four students “works as a porter at the night market. His shift

ends at dawn. With no breakfast waiting for him at home, he’ll go straight to school.” The other

three students are, as Mr. Ugma narrates,

what we call here in the rural village as ‘laborers’. That means at dawn, they collect scrap metals, plastics, paper from rubbish bins and trade these for

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some loose change, usually five pesos per kilo. What could these kids buy for five pesos? They couldn’t even buy 3-in-1 coffee for that. No wonder they sleep in my class.”

Mr. Ugma learns these stories from visiting each of the four students’ homes on weekends.

Having known the family background of the four students, Mr. Ugma lets them sleep in class

because “they can’t learn anything when they’re tired and hungry. I told them to come to class

anyway. I don’t mind them sleeping here, at least here, they’re safe.” As Mr. Ugma explains this to

me in the interview, I probed further about how the four students cope with the lessons they miss

as they were sleeping. I learned from Mr. Ugma that he stays after class hours for these four

students and tutors them in some form of ‘remedial instruction’ where he fills in where the

students miss in class. From these accounts of Mr. Ugma, it can be noted that the decisions on

‘what to teach’ and ‘how to teach it’ in a way that it relevant to the rural students are greatly

informed by what the rural teacher learns from home visits. Thus, apart from its benefit in

keeping the rural students in school, the practice of ‘home visits’ also assists the rural teachers in

making their lessons more relevant to the rural life of the students.

Helping the students relate lessons to rural life

In a class I observed with Mrs. Alab, I overheard one student, Jose, in the back row, who made a

remark, “This subject-and-predicate stuff is too complicated, I won’t be able to use it here in the

village anyways. It’s just a waste.” It so happened that Mrs. Alab heard this as well. Instead of

ignoring the comment, Mrs. Alab shifted the tone of her voice and indirectly addressed Jose’s

comment by telling the students that upon their graduation, as they look for a job in the city or

overseas, they need to write their resumés in English. Mrs. Alab further addressed the students

and asked, “most of you here dream of getting a job abroad, if you can’t speak and understand

English, how do you think you’d cope?” She then opens a story about overseas Filipinos workers

who are detained or abused abroad and punished for crimes they did not commit. Mrs. Francia

points out, “they couldn’t defend themselves maybe because they couldn’t express themselves in one

simple English sentence. That’s why we study this subject-predicate stuff. You need English to

survive”.

In my interview with Mrs. Alab, I asked what motivated her to respond to Jose’s comment

that way. She explained that in her previous home visits at Jose’s, she learned from his parents

that Jose dreams of being an engineer abroad like his uncles. Mrs. Alab thought that for her

students to see the value in studying English, she needs to relate the subject to their aspirations

in the future. Like Jose, some of the rural students in this class, as Mrs. Alab disclosed, are

encouraged by their parents to work abroad upon graduation as they have relatives who are

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Overseas Filipino Workers (OFWs). Using this knowledge to her advantage, Mrs. Alab addressed

Jose’s comment by letting the entire class understand the practical value of learning the English

language. This way, as Mrs. Alab puts it, the rural “students become more engaged in lectures as

they see relevance of the lesson to their life in the village”. Mrs. Alab’s approach in teaching English,

as she describes, is greatly informed by what she learns from her home visits. It then becomes

clearer why home visits appeal strongly to the rural teachers as they become more informed on

how to better relate the lessons to what is familiar and important to their students.

So far, these rural teachers illustrate how ‘home visits’ work to their advantage. Firstly, as

Mr. Ugma demonstrates, ‘home visits’ assists him in keeping the rural students in school to address

student dropout. Secondly, ‘home visits’ inform the rural teachers like Mrs. Alab in helping the

students relate lessons to rural life and sustain their engagement in class. And finally, ‘home visits’

create opportunities for building relationship with the rural community, as shown by Mrs. Natad

in the succeeding paragraphs.

Building relationship with the rural community

On my first day of observation in the Home Economics class of Mrs. Natad in the rural school, I

realized that the students hold this class in a different room. In this room, there are no available

chairs for the students to use so they sat on the floor as they listen to Mrs. Natad’s lectures. In my

interview with Mrs. Natad, I asked her about the empty classroom. Mrs. Natad explains:

This classroom is used frequently as the evacuation center of roughly 25 families from the nearby farming and fishing towns during typhoons. So, we thought of just keeping this room empty so it’s ready anytime a typhoon hits. All teachers come to help. That’s what we do as neighbours”.

This narrative of Mrs. Natad is particularly telling. It mirrors a strong ‘relationship’ among the

teachers, their students, and the rural villagers. Strengthened in times of natural calamities, this

‘relationship’ appears to have been built on mutual support and care in the rural community. It is

also interesting to note how Mrs. Natad uses the term ‘neighbours’ in describing a relationship

that exists within the rural community where the school belongs. In how it appeals to me as the

observer, the term ‘neighbours’ as used by Mrs. Natad depicts a cultural concept akin to what is

locally known as ‘kaabay’, a uniquely regional term which roughly translates to a “neighbour”.

This concept of kaabay’ is also used in a Philippine-based sociological study of Conde (2006)

where he examines oral traditions and narratives in a rural indigenous community in the

province of Bikol, which is also the location of the rural school in my study. This concept of kaabay

(neighbour), as Conde (2006) suggests, is not just

cluster of houses that were physically close to each other. More importantly, it also refers to the people in these houses who were close to each other, not

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only due to blood relations, but also due to ‘reciprocal caring relationships’. The members of the kaabay care for each other in both material and non-material ways (p. 35-36).

Rural teachers as neighbours

These ‘reciprocal caring relationships’ which Conde (2006) describes could be found in the

narratives of Mrs. Natad where she narrates how the teachers, students, and the rural villagers

help and care for each other. This caring relationship in the rural community is further deepened

in times of natural calamities where the classrooms become the second homes of their students’

families. The contextual circumstances in the rural school as described by Mrs. Natad transform

the rural teachers into neighbours—the kaabay whom rural families share with what Conde

(2006) calls as “material and non-material forms of care” (p. 35). The rural teachers and the

families embody the concept of kaabay or neighbours when they share food and help in the

reconstruction of typhoon-stricken houses in the village (material care), give advice in tough

times of decision making, provide emotional comfort in times of distress, and extend spiritual

support to the families (non-material care).

Rural teachers as companions

The mutual sense of care and support during times of distress and natural calamities strengthen

the bond between the rural teacher and the community, which then transforms the role of the

rural teacher from an ‘authority figure’ to a ‘companion’—"the one who is one of us and with us in

the rural community” (Arnel, rural student). This sense of ‘companionship’ is also explored in a

phenomenological study of Ramos (2008), which focuses on the same region where the rural

school in my study is located. In his study, Ramos (2008) also uses the term kaabay to capture this

strong and personal sense of compassion and resilience he observed among neighbours in the

rural community during difficult situations such as typhoons. Ramos (2008) found that the

contextual realities within the community, particularly the frequency of typhoons and the social-

economic impact on the village, elicited caring relationship among its neighbours. Ramos (2008)

claims that the term kaabay then transcends its literal meaning of ‘neighbour’ to a deeper meaning

of ‘companion’ when over time, the locals develop a deep sense of compassion to help each other,

knowing that the suffering of one neighbour is also shared by the other.

This caring kaabay relationship as described in Conde (2006) and Ramos (2008) surfaces

in the narratives of the rural teachers, particularly that of Mrs. Natad. In these narratives, the rural

teachers describe the way in which the rural school becomes not only a refuge but a second home

for the rural families in times of difficulties. The narratives of the rural teachers also highlight the

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relationships they build with the community through their practice of home visits. In these visits,

the rural teachers become more aware of their students’ conditions of learning at home, making

the teachers better informed on their instructional decisions and practices that support their

learning and motivations to be in school.

Conclusion

The way in which a teacher maintains her classroom authority, which is valued in the rural school

as promoting student engagement and relationships, seems to be at odds with the fundamental

presumption in learner-centered teaching that maintaining teacher power and authority

compromises relationships and learning. The strong value placed on a teacher as a ‘figure of

authority’ and ‘content expert’ in this Philippine rural school context compels us to critically look

at how teachers are respected and how education is valued within a culture and within an economic

place. It is from this cultural lens that we gain a deeper understanding about why some methods

of teaching are more practised and valued than others in this rural school. For instance, while the

predominant use of ‘teacher-talk’, authoritative classroom management, and teacher-centered

methods among the rural teachers could be explained by the scarce resources in the rural school,

referring back to these two critical teacher roles in the Philippines however provides us a

different insight. Under this cultural lens, the teacher-centered method of ‘teacher-talk’ is

consistent with the ‘authority’ of the teacher as the ‘content expert’ in providing her students not

necessarily with the academic concepts that are not easily accessible in the rural village. Most

importantly, ‘teacher-talk’ supports the ‘authority’ of the teacher in transmitting to the rural

students the local knowledge and wisdom deemed relevant and useful in the rural community.

In the same way, this teacher ‘authority’ is upheld under a strict approach to behavior

management when the teacher impresses upon the students the desired attitudes and skills

within the rural community. Hard work, determination to succeed, sociability and cooperation,

respect for elders, courtesy, and discipline are the desired attitudes and skills which the rural

village expects the teacher to imbibe in her students so they can participate and ‘belong’ in the

community. Mrs. Alab understands that in maintaining her ‘authority’, she is able to fulfil the

expectations of the rural community in equipping its youth with the life skills valued for fostering

harmonious relationships in the village. Such relationships are upheld for their value in promoting

group harmony and maintaining social order and hierarchies in the community.

It is important to note that this relationship in the rural school is not confined to the

classroom. This relationship between the teacher and the students is extended to the students’

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immediate family and relatives within the neighbourhood. It is also this relationship with the

community which could explain the importance of ‘home visits’, which is regarded by Mrs. Alab

as essential to ‘good teaching’ in the rural school. The practice of ‘home visits’ further reinforces

teacher ‘authority’ as it makes relationships between the teacher and family possible, creating

meaningful connections between the school and rural community. The ‘authority’ therefore gives

the teacher the power to create channels between the school and the rural village. In turn, the

community respects the teacher and values her authority for she has formed students into the

rural youth the community seeks for.

For the rural teachers therefore, ‘good teaching’, as exhibited by Mrs. Alab and the other

rural teachers, suggests practices which are aligned not only to how a culture respects its teachers

or to what the expectations of the community are towards education. Most importantly, ‘good

teaching’ in the rural school translates to teacher practices that provide its students with the

knowledge, attitudes, and skills necessary for them to engage in meaningful and respectful

relationships within the village. The wisdom, values, and talents that rural students develop

through these relationships are believed to assure them with a successful life in the village or

wherever they choose to contribute their strengths. These insights from the rural teachers invite

us to raise questions which challenge notions that limit ‘good teaching’ to learner-centered

practices—how learning should be, what teaching should look like, and according to whom. These

questions further expand our understanding that a continuum of ‘good teaching’ is a whole

expanse of diverse pedagogies, from learner-centered at one end to teacher-centered at the other,

without the presumption that teacher-centered practices are ineffective and bad. From this

chapter, the stories of the rural teachers walk us through an understanding that their practice of

‘good teaching’ is far too complex to be placed within a simplistic binary category of learner-

centered and teacher-centered (i.e. perceptions of good versus bad teaching) especially when the

local expectations towards education, cultural respect for teachers, and local ways of fostering

relationships are closely examined.

The complexity of understanding what ‘good teaching’ is held to be in this rural school is

further examined in the following chapter in which I discuss my analysis of the practices and

perceptions of Mrs. Ningning, a social studies teacher in the rural school, who aims through her

teaching practices to reconnect her students to their rural life.

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C H A P T E R E I G H T

“Nurturing a sense of pride in belonging to a rural farm”

Mrs. Ningning’s ‘localising’ and other teaching strategies of the rural teachers

Introduction

In the previous chapter, I discussed how ‘teacher authority’, as exemplified by Mrs. Alab, is

maintained in the rural school because of its perceived value in impressing upon the rural

students the desired attitudes and skills in the village. In this chapter, I tell the story of another

rural teacher, Mrs. Ningning, a Social Studies teacher. I observed her to put her ‘authority’ aside

and use learner-centered strategies to nurture within her students a sense of ‘local pride’. I

perceived her classroom practices as ‘good teaching’, but the rural students perceived otherwise.

In my analyses of Mrs. Ningning’s practices, I draw upon the works of Smith and Sobel (2010) on

their Place-based Education to understand Mrs. Ningning’s intent behind her teaching strategy,

‘localising’, which she uses to (re)connect her students to their rural community. I discuss the

concepts of reinhabitation and decolonization under Gruenewald’s (2003) Critical Pedagogy of

the Place to examine how Mrs. Ningning’s pedagogical decisions are shaped by what is needed

and valued within the village, particularly on how ‘work’ is viewed in the rural community. I also

examine Mrs. Ningning’s practice of ‘groupwork’, noting that both the economic conditions and

cultural values towards ‘cooperation’ in the community of the rural school inhibit the use and

value ascribed to ‘groupwork’ among its teachers.

In discussing the ways in which Mrs. Ningning’s practices differ from Mrs. Alab’s, I argue that

while Mrs. Ningning was not able to assert her ‘classroom authority’, she was nonetheless able to

practice teaching strategies which satisfied the expectations of the rural village towards teacher

roles and responsibilities.

A vignette to capture Mrs. Ningning’s practice starts with a busy chattering among curious

students over an image projected on the blackboard.

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The teacher who can make time fly

Before the noise swells up again, Mrs. Ningning turns the projector on. “While

we wait for the first slide,” says Mrs. Ningning as she circulates the room, “I want

you to think about three things you would like to have if you were a king or a

queen. Share your thoughts in your group”. Three minutes later, hands start to

shoot up in the air. “Call me, ma’am! Let me share!” Every morning, at nine-forty,

this class seems to move in an organized chaos.

Most of the students share that they want a big house. A couple of students want to have

lots of money. One of them tells the class, “If you have lots of money, you can eat all the

‘Chicken Joy’ you want! You can even have your own Jollibee and never go hungry

again!” The class cheers. Mrs. Ningning then puts on the first slide, “Did anyone of you

wish you own one of these?” A drawing of pyramids is projected on a white cloth draped

over the blackboard.

“That doesn’t look like a house for me, ma’am,” says one student.

“Ah, that’s a yema! Yum!” says another referring to a pyramid-shaped milk

candy. The students laugh.

“No, this is not a house nor a candy,” says Mrs. Ningning. “It’s actually like one

of those grand mausoleums for the rich political families you see on TV…”

“No way, ma’am,” interjects one student. “So, you mean, ma’am, those pyramids

are actually tombs and not houses?”

From here, the class starts a lively discussion on the Egyptian culture, from

pyramids to pharaohs and hieroglyphics and even aliens.

As the discussion continues, Mrs. Ningning creates a timeline on the board and

let the students chronologically arrange the milestones of the Egyptian culture by posting

colored metacards and pictures on the board. One student, Pedro, who is usually asleep in

most of the classes volunteers to post one of the pictures on the board. Noticing this, his

classmates cheer and pat him on the back as he approaches the board. When Pedro starts

saying something about the picture, his mates in the back row are cheering for him, “You

are a legend, Pedro!”

Mrs. Ningning reminds the class to settle down and let Pedro finish. When he

returns to his seat beaming with pride, Mrs. Ningning remarks, “There you go class,

history happens today…”

“…history happens every day!” The students continue in chorus, mimicking Mrs.

Ningning’s usual expression. Everyone is in a good mood.

Afterwards, Mrs. Ningning puts on the next slide with a photo of a jar. “This

class, is a Manunggul Jar. Guess what’s the similarity between this jar and the pyramid?”

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After several guesses from the students, Mrs. Ningning reveals, “Inside this jar

are human bones of possibly one tribal leader in prehistoric times in the Philippines. Like

the ancient Egyptian burial practices, this jar also had those bracelets…” “So, if the

ancient Egyptians have the pyramids, we have that jar,” exclaims one student. With this,

Mrs. Ningning challenges the class to identify some similarities between the ancient

Egyptian and Philippine cultures.

Fifteen minutes before the class ends, Mrs. Ningning asks the students to reflect

on the contributions of the Egyptian culture to the modern world. She tells the students to

write a short thank-you letter to one of the pharaohs they liked best. They also have to

spell the pharaoh’s name in a ‘modified hieroglyphics’ they made up during the

discussion.

The students are wrapped in busy silence until Mrs. Ningning tells the class,

“Tomorrow, don’t forget to bring old newspapers and ready your hieroglyphic letters by

then.” The students seem surprised at how fast time flies in Mrs. Ningning’s class. The

bell rings and the students say their goodbyes. A group activity where they have to act as

mummies wrapped in old newspapers waits for them the next day.

Mrs. Ningning: A facilitator of learning

Among all the teachers I observed in the rural school, it is Mrs. Ningning who used learner-

centered practices in line with the prescribed literature on learner-centered education (McCombs

& Whisler, 1997; Weimer, 2002; McCombs, 2003; Cornelius-White & Harbaugh, 2010). The

learner-centered practices used by Mrs. Ningning can be categorized into two themes, namely: (1)

incorporating local themes and values and (2) encouraging student-led activities in pairs rather

than in groups. While the other rural teachers also use teaching strategies where local themes and

concepts from the rural village are incorporated into the lesson, it was Mrs. Ningning who was

able to articulate and demonstrate it clearly to the students. Evidenced in the short vignette above,

Mrs. Ningning consciously connects the lessons on World History to what the rural students are

familiar with locally in the Philippines. Mrs. Ningning’s strategies for doing this seemed to differ

markedly to other teachers whom I observed in this rural school.

Incorporating local themes and values

In the previous chapter, it can be recalled that in Mrs. Alab’s class, a student commented that

learning English is a waste on a rural farm. As I reported, Mrs. Alab flawlessly addressed the

student’s comment by emphasizing the practical value of learning English as a tool in securing

students a job in the village, in the city, or overseas. Comparing it with Mrs. Ningning’s, Mrs. Alab’s

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practice of ‘incorporating local themes and values’ arises only when there are incidents when

students display expressions of disengagement towards a learning material which they find

ambiguous and irrelevant. Thus, this practice is given emphasis by Mrs. Alab only when the need

arises as part of classroom management. Should there be no occurrence of a student directly

raises personal concerns on the relevance of the learning content, there would be no apparent

opportunity to practice ‘incorporating local themes and values’. In the case of Mrs. Ningning,

however, this practice is intentionally incorporated into her lessons as reflected in her carefully-

prepared lesson plans and how she carries these out in her actual teaching.

‘Localising’ as a teaching strategy

In my interviews with Mrs. Ningning, I inquired about her practice of making strong connections

between global and local concepts in teaching World History. Mrs. Ningning explains that her way

of teaching “allows students to learn lessons easier as [she] brings concepts down to level of students’

rural life experiences”. Mrs. Ningning calls this strategy ‘localising’, which she explains can be

delivered in varied ways such as “using current local events as introduction of a lesson” or

“encouraging the students to produce creative artwork using indigenous materials as they learn

foreign concepts”. Mrs. Ningning claims that it is critical for teachers in Barrio High School to

practise ‘localising’ in the classroom because it does not only expand students’ global and local

knowledge. Most importantly, ‘localising’, as Mrs. Ningning suggests, “reduces the disconnection

that the rural students experience from what they learn in school and what they actually experience

outside”.

Three other rural teachers share a similar view with Mrs. Ningning on the value of

‘localising’ in the rural school. One of these teachers is Mrs. Nayon, the Tagalog Language and

Literature teacher, whom I observed to have used ‘localising’ as a strategy to “not only familiarize

[her] students with local literature but also to help them find their roots as a Filipino people”. Mrs.

Nayon was able to achieve this aim through a teaching strategy where she let the students

interpret a regional epic through an artwork. In my observation in Mrs. Nayon’s class, I noted that

after they discussed the epic, she assigned the students to several groups. Each group produced

a unique interpretation of the epic. One group for instance came up with a collage of coconut

barks, pieces of bamboo mats, and dried leaves to create a poster that suggests a new ending of

the epic. A different group translated their interpretation of the epic through an original

composition of a song to the tune of a traditional local serenade which the students performed in

the class using musical instruments like guitars and maracas. Another group presented their

interpretation of the epic through a live short play patterned after a local soap opera. With these

creative presentations as her ‘localising’ strategy, Mrs. Nayon was able to, as she disclosed,

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“connect [her] students to their rural life and discourage them from quitting school”. A similar

reason is put forward by Mr. Igot behind his practice of ‘localising’ in teaching Maths. In his class,

I observed that Mr. Igot customizes the problem sets according to what is familiar to the students.

I noted that the problems Mr. Igot presents to the students are based on local situations which

they may encounter at present or in the near future when they are already working. For instance,

in finding X in geometry, Mr. Igot’s situational problem is about a plot on a rice farm. In ratio and

proportion, to find time, the problem Mr. Igot presented to the students is how much time it will

take for a farmer to deliver his harvest using a carabao or a truck. The reason behind Mr. Igot’s

strategy of ‘localising’ is to “keep [the] students from feeling disconnected in class when they don’t

find sense between what they learn in school and what life is on the farm”.

With the reasons behind Mrs. Ningning, Mrs. Nayon, and Mr. Igot’s practice of ‘localising’,

I noted that there is a common narrative on ‘disconnection’ which these three rural teachers

perceive from their rural students. This issue of ‘disconnection’ among Filipino students in public

schools is discussed in Okabe (2013). This lack of interest among disadvantaged students, as

Okabe (2013) argues, could be accounted to the teaching methods which have been “too uniform,

not varied and flexible enough to meet the needs and interests of these students” (p.25). To

address this, as Okabe suggests, teachers would need for local-based pedagogies in the Philippine

classrooms to address the social and contextual needs of the youth particularly those in rural

communities.

The mentality of ‘local pride’ and prejudice among rural students

The local-based pedagogical methods as outlined by Okabe (2013) are observable in Mrs.

Ningning’s class. I noted in both my class observations and interviews with Mrs. Ningning, that

she places emphasis on teaching strategies which, as she maintains, “instill in [her] students a deep

sense of appreciation and confidence in belonging to a rural farm”. Such emotions are captured in

a phrase which Mrs. Ningning describes as ‘local pride’.

This ‘local pride’, as Mrs. Ningning calls it, appears elusive among the students in the rural

school. Mrs. Ningning observes in her students “this sort of mentality that they have nothing to

contribute to the world because they come from a poor country and live on a small rural farming

village”. This mentality among her rural students is what which Mrs. Ningning perceives as

influential in her students’ ambitions “to become computer engineers and accountants in the city”

or “to go abroad as OFWs [Overseas Filipino Workers] because for them there is nothing much left

to do on the rural farms”. Mrs. Ningning also disclosed that there are students who confide in her

that they “find no sense in continuing studies in the city because they are a farmer’s child, and their

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hands will always be soiled and dirty”. These emotions of shame and lack of esteem about farming

among the rural students became central to Mrs. Ningning’s decision on ‘incorporating local

themes and values’ into her lessons. Thus, as Mrs. Ningning explains, a consistent inclusion of

“side-topics about a Philippine destination making it to UNESCO World Heritage list or some random

good news about agriculture and farming” is behind her practice of ‘localising’ to address her

students’ mentality that “no one likes to be a farmer anymore”. In her practice of ‘localising’, Mrs.

Ningning was able to imbibe in her students the value in owning a sense of “dignity and pride in

being a farmer”. Mrs. Ningning wants her students to see that “it is farms that sustain us. It is from

farmers that we have food on the table. Without farming and agriculture, we are nothing”.

This purposeful integration of local themes with teaching as practised by Mrs. Ningning

through her ‘localising’, an instructional strategy designed to reintroduce her students the value

of ‘local pride,’ aligns with David Gruenewald’s reinhabitation. In his ‘critical pedagogy of place’,

Gruenewald (2003) introduces the concept of reinhabitation, which seeks to “identify, recover,

and create material spaces and places that teach us how to live well in our total environments”

(p. 9). This reinhabitation is critically relevant to the rural school in my study, especially in the

twenty-first century, when there is an escalating emphasis on pedagogies that train students to

be competitive in the arena of corporate employability. As noted in significant studies on place-

based education (i.e. Gruenewald, 2003; Smith and Sobel, 2010), the current forces of

globalization impact the imagination of the rural youth, reshaping their life goals and career

paths, even to the extent of distorting their beliefs that the best and only way to contribute to

their communities is through corporate economic means. Thus, in pursuit of their economic

independence out of the community, the rural youth focus their ambition on seeking greener

pastures in the city or abroad—a similar mentality among the rural students in Mrs. Ningning’s

class. This ‘leave to live’ mentality among the rural students poses certain dangers in their rural

communities when they decide to leave the village to provide better lives for the family left

behind. Such dangers are clearly articulated by Smith and Sobel (2010), suggesting that rural

schools are at risk of reinforcing this mentality when they continue to ignore the communities

where students live. By then, as Smith and Sobel (2010) observe, “it is not surprising that out-

migration has become the problem in rural towns” (p. 44). However, when a school starts to give

more attention to the local history and its cultural issues, then, as Smith and Sobel (2010) claim,

it is more likely for the school to dispel the notions that gaining economic independence and

developing their own talents are beyond the control of the rural youth. Smith and Sobel (2010)

strongly state that

one of the primary reasons for incorporating local culture and history into children’s school experience is because it is potentially familiar and

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accessible; it furthermore helps young people to see what is valuable and worth preserving in their home communities (p. 44).

It is from this lens of Smith and Sobel (2010) that we are able to make sense of Mrs. Ningning’s

mindful practice of ‘localising’ in her attempt to change her students’ mentality towards rice

farming and rural life. From here, Mrs. Ningning’s practice of ‘localising’ may have a “profound

impact on young people’s sense of self-worth and efficacy” (Smith and Sobel, 2010, p. 24), which

therefore supports her aim of developing a sense of ‘local pride’ in her rural students. By then,

Mrs. Ningning’s practice of ‘localising’ is a step closer to Gruenewald’s reinhabitation where she

is able to affirm the rural students’ belief that they can make a valuable contribution to the

restoration of what is needed to be preserved and conserved in sustaining what is good in the

rice farming village—to revive its lost values and to uphold what is right and necessary to sustain

a quality life in the community. Only when the rural students imbibe this strong sense of valuing

towards rural life, this ‘local pride’ which Mrs. Ningning speaks of, will they then be able

transform their community for the better.

Developing this deep sense of ‘local pride’ however fundamentally requires an

introduction to what Smith and Sobel (2010) frame as “opening students’ sense to beauty of

outdoors” (p. 47), which then enables the rural teachers to cultivate among their students the

love for the place they belong to. In this case, staying or returning to their rural towns becomes

more appealing to the rural youth, making Gruenewald’s reinhabitation more possible. It is from

these perspectives of Smith and Sobel (2010) and Gruenewald (2003) on ‘introducing youth to

the beauty and the sublime of rural landscapes’ that we are able to further understand the

principle behind Mrs. Ningning’s practice of ‘localising’, where she mindfully incorporates local

themes into her lessons in World History. These topics, Mrs. Ningning noted, allow the rural

students to develop a deep sense of appreciation of rurality until finally, they are able to love the

place, urging them to contribute their efforts to the community. This teaching philosophy of Mrs.

Ningning can be encapsulated in Smith and Sobel’s (2010) belief that “human beings protect and

preserve what they love; if they don’t know something, they don’t attend to it” (p. 47). This desire

to protect, preserve, and change the community for the better takes such ‘love for the place’ to

another level, which then takes us back to Gruenewald’s second concept under his critical

pedagogy of the place— decolonization, where rural youth can “identify and change ways of

thinking that injure and exploit other people and place” (Gruenewald, 2003, p. 9). Love for place,

however, seems not enough to make rural students stay (Smith and Sobel, 2010). As disclosed by

Mrs. Ningning, the rural students’ narratives on wanting “to be computer engineers and

accountants in the city” or “going abroad as OFWs” alongside a belief that “there is nothing much

left to do on the rural farms” and that being “born and raised on the farm has nothing much to

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contribute” reflect a need for rural places to create clear pathways between education and work.

Given that there are already preconceived notions against rurality among the students, the

obscure economic opportunities in the rural areas and the much less livelihood support from the

local and national governments further discourages students to stay. The rural students may opt

to leave in spite of

how much they may love and be committed to their home places—[they] will be forced to move elsewhere to support themselves once they graduate from high school and are expected to achieve some degree of financial independence (Smith & Sobel, 2010, p. 51).

This suggests that with viable economic opportunities in short supply in rural communities,

Gruenewald’s reinhabitation and decolonization become a challenging set of concepts to digest as

the diaspora of rural youth to urban places becomes justified, and even encouraged. For

reinhabitation and decolonization to be realized in a rural community, at least in the case of the

community where the rural students in this study belong to, the place must be able to provide

them with opportunities for work to make them stay. This of course, does not mean that the rural

youth must be deterred from leaving. Smith and Sobel (2010) maintain that providing rural youth

with a sustainable source of livelihood within the community is to provide them with options,

enabling them with more freedom as individuals. This freedom also dispels the notion that

staying on the rural farms is a default choice—because they are expected to stay to contribute; to

leave is to dishonor the place they are from. Rather, a sustainable economic source in rural places

fuels the youth’s ambitions and impassions their imagination, and most importantly, expands

their freedom in choosing which values have to be conserved and restored (reinhabitation) to

make the positive and needed change possible (decolonization).

The rural perceptions of work as ‘find-life’

In my interviews with the rural teachers, there appears a common narrative on how their

classroom practices intend to prepare students for work. Take note for instance the view of the

Values Education teacher, Miss Rosal on keeping her ‘low-performing students’ in school instead

of kicking them out when they consistently get failing grades. Miss Rosal explained that she was

concerned about their future, “where will they go?” She questioned a common practice amongst

public schools where low-achieving and problematic students have to be expelled. Miss Rosal

stands against such notion as this only feeds the vicious cycle of poverty among school dropouts

and the unemployed youth in the rural village. Mrs. Ningning shares Miss Rosal’s view and

expressed that “it is within a teacher’s responsibility to prepare students for a life beyond school—

in their work”. These two views suggest the critical role a rural teacher plays in securing her

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students’ future by aligning her classroom practices to what is valued within the village, which in

this case is ‘work’. Such role can be noted in this account from the English teacher, Mrs. Alab:

It will reflect badly on me as their teacher who is supposed to have taught them well, and yet when they go out to their community, they can’t contribute, not even get themselves a job? Should that happen, then I have failed as a teacher.

Schweisfurth’s (2013) view on how the nuances in pedagogical methods from one context to

another are shaped by a ‘culture’s expectations of education and respect for its teacher’ also holds

true in Mrs. Alab’s account. From here, it can be noted that all the rural teachers in my study

understand that ‘work’ for their rural students means more than just earning money. More

importantly, ‘finding work’ means that the rural youth are able to ‘contribute their strengths and

talents to their community’, which then deepens their sense of belonging in the rural village.

Mrs. Ningning, on the other hand, put forward an interesting insight about how ‘work’ is

understood in the rural village. ‘Education for work’, as explained by Mrs. Ningning, is greatly

valued in the rural school because “it is work that will give a deeper meaning in life”. Thus, in the

rural school, when its teachers equip the students with the knowledge and skills that will help

them ‘find work’, the teachers, in essence, help their students to ‘find life’. Mrs. Ningning captures

this teaching philosophy adopted among the rural teachers by explaining that in the Philippines,

the direct translation of ‘work’ is hanapbuhay, a Tagalog word which is comprised of two

distinctly meaningful terms—hanap means ‘find’; buhay means ‘life’. Work, in Filipino terms,

directly translates to ‘find life’ in English. In this cultural concept of ‘work’ that Mrs. Ningning

provides, it becomes clearer why the rural teachers place great value on teaching practices that

they perceive prepare students for ‘work’. Hence, when a rural teacher strives to help her rural

students ‘find work’, she is, in essence, helping them ‘find life’ because ‘belonging in and

contributing to the rural community is life’.

So far in this part of the Chapter, I have reported several teaching practices and strategies

which are unique to Mrs. Ningning’s class. They are unique not in the way that it is only Mrs.

Ningning who practices them. Rather, it is Mrs. Ningning’s principle and teaching philosophy

behind these pedagogical strategies that make her teaching practices unique. Take for example

the practice of ‘localising’ in the rural school. While I also observed it being practised by Mrs.

Nayon and Mr. Igot, ‘localising’ in Mrs. Ningning’s class is used with a clear intent of developing a

sense of ‘local pride’, especially that which nurtures in her students the “dignity and pride in being

a farmer”. Mrs. Ningning communicates to her students that what they do in class are intended to

help them see the connection between school and rural life. In the succeeding subsections, I

report yet another unique observation in Mrs. Ningning’s class. This time however it is unique

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because it is only in Mrs. Ningning’s class that I observed the rural students learn in small groups

and in pairs.

Encouraging student-led activities in pairs rather than in groups

In my observation in Mrs. Ningning’s class, I took note that the students are provided with

learning activities in big groups. This is particularly interesting because in my observation with

other rural teachers, they would only allow two students (usually seatmates) to work on one

learning task.

I noted that on my first two days of observation in Mrs. Ningning’s class, she required the

students to learn in groups of five to six students. The first ‘groupwork’, as Mrs. Ningning calls it,

is during the lesson on Egyptian culture, the second is on water resources in ancient civilizations.

In the succeeding days, I did not observe Mrs. Ningning use her ‘groupwork’ anymore. Instead,

she encouraged the students to work individually or in pairs silently. I particularly noted this

change after an incident where I noticed one teacher passing by Mrs. Ningning’s classroom on my

second day of observation when she was having the ‘groupwork’. This teacher subtly glances over

Mrs. Ningning’s students who are busily working in their groups at that time. But noticing that I

was there, thinking maybe that there was ‘an observer’, the teacher returns to her classroom. I

did not however mention this to Mrs. Ningning during our interview, instead I inquired about her

use of ‘groupwork’. But in the course of our conversation, she brought up the incident. Mrs.

Ningning told me that while this teacher did not say anything to her, Mrs. Ningning took it as a

cue that the teacher thinks that her class is making too much noise. “But we can’t really do away

with noise during groupwork, can we?” Mrs. Ningning asserts. She further made a comment that

given the thin walls that separate the classrooms in the rural school, the possibility of disturbing

other classes in the adjacent rooms is high. “I am therefore limited to use groupwork as much as I

want to,” Mrs. Ningning raised her concern. As our interview proceeds, Mrs. Ningning understood

that given that classrooms in the rural school are quite close to each other, the “teachers are

conscious not to disturb other classes when having groupwork”. This then explains why Mrs.

Ningning resorted to partner activities for her students. This way, as Mrs. Ningning explained,

noise is reduced and classes become more manageable without denying her students the

opportunity of learning from each other.

Economic impediments to ‘groupwork’

The issue of space in the rural school which limits Mrs. Ningning’s freedom to use ‘groupwork’ is

also shared by other teachers like Mrs. Natad, the Home Economics teacher. Mrs. Natad also

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expressed her reservations on using ‘groupwork’ given that “only a plywood separates this class

from the others” and the moving-about of her students would disturb other classes in the adjacent

rooms. A similar sentiment is expressed by Mr. Ugma in his attempt to use ‘groupwork’ in his

class. However, while Mrs. Ningning and Mrs. Natad are hindered by the issues of space in the

rural school, Mr. Ugma is more concerned about the lack of teaching resources for ‘groupwork’.

This lack of resources is a critical issue in the rural school to the extent that, as Mr. Ugma disclosed

in our interview, he is careful in requiring his students to bring materials for ‘groupwork’. This is

because there was an incident in the past when a parent complained about a rural teacher who

required the students to bring bond papers for their ‘groupwork’. This parent, as Mr. Ugma

recalls, aired her complaint over the local radio station. Mr. Ugma tells the story:

Everyone in the village learned about it. So, we don’t usually assign groupwork here that would require students to buy stuff. Their parents couldn’t even afford bond paper for their kids. They’d rather use their money for food or save it for the farms.

This economic context in the rural community is of critical issue for the teachers as this debilitates

them from using certain strategies in the classroom. The same constraint is pointed out by Mrs.

Agham which led her to “resort to demonstrative teaching instead of groupwork because [she]

couldn’t provide [her] students with materials, say circuit models, which they can manipulate and

explore more closely in groups”. This lack of basic instructional materials in the rural school also

impacts Miss Rosal’s instructional decisions. She raised the question on, “how [she] could possibly

practise ‘groupwork’ when down to the most basic of what students need—chalk, textbooks, chairs,

classrooms, are not available for everyone to use”.

Silenced barriers towards ‘groupwork’

For obvious reasons, the economic issues in the rural school hinder its teachers in using

‘groupwork’, which for them is a strategy that requires an adequate supply of teaching and

learning resources for it to be effective. While the impact of these economic constraints is felt

much more in the poorer rural school, there is however another issue which I noted from the

narratives of the rural teachers on ‘groupwork’ which I did not find in the narratives of the urban

teachers. Mr. Ugma says that the “[rural] students seem more engaged in individual activities,

especially those that make them think, rather than in groupwork”. A similar observation is

expressed by Mrs. Agham, the Science teacher. She disclosed that, “having groupwork from time

to time is okay. Having it all the time makes them sick. The students told me this. I’m actually quite

surprised that the students feel this way”. These sentiments are reflective of what I also observed

in Mrs. Ningning’s class. It appears to me as the classroom observer that the rural students are

more engaged in partner activities than when in big groups.

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On the third time that Mrs. Ningning assigned a ‘groupwork’ in her class, I noticed similar

behaviours which Mr. Ugma and Mrs. Agham ascribed to their students when they also assign

‘groupwork’ in the same class. As soon as Mrs. Ningning instructed the students to go to their

respective groups, it took the students quite a while to move, and they seemed lethargic as they

walk towards their assigned groups. As they joined their groupmates, the students seemed less

enthusiastic compared with their behaviour during partner or individual activities. I noticed

some students absentmindedly doodle on their notebooks or tinker with the beads in their ID

laces before starting to work. Only when Mrs. Ningning started to circulate the class to monitor

the groups did the students actually do the work required. Initially, I interpreted this behavior of

the rural students towards their ‘groupwork’ as an indicator of disengagement, which could be

attributed to various factors. One factor could also be the lack of clarity of task, which Mrs.

Ningning should have set first before letting the students proceed to their groups.

It was particularly interesting for me as a teacher to reflect on why there seems a lack of

proper introduction for students to ‘groupwork’ in the rural school. In the course of my classroom

observation, I did not observe the teachers, especially Mrs. Ningning, orient their students to what

is expected of them in their groupwork. In my fieldnotes, I made a comment on how ‘groupwork’

should be facilitated by the rural teachers to make their students more engaged whilst learning

in groups. Most of the comments I made in my fieldnotes are cognizant of the principles of

‘structure’ Cooperative Learning in Gillies (2004), particularly those in ‘learner-centered

classrooms’ as suggested in Cornelius-White and Harbaugh (2010). In my fieldnotes, I made

strong comments on the absence of these fundamental principles of using ‘cooperative learning

strategies’ where there should be, at least, an articulation of the objective behind the ‘groupwork’

on the part of the teacher and which domain of learning this ‘groupwork’ seeks to target, say

cognitive, affective or psychomotor domain of learning. As an observer, I was ticking off a mental

list whether the basic principles of ‘face-to-face interaction, individual accountability,

cooperation and collaboration’ (Cornelius-White & Harbaugh, 2010) were present in this

‘groupwork’ under Mrs. Ningning’s class. I also made a suggestion, as reflected in my fieldnotes,

that Mrs. Ningning should have provided her students with some rubrics to guide them on the

roles they will assume, and the tasks expected of them, aside from how their outputs will be

assessed and graded. These rubrics, as I emphasized in my fieldnotes, would also ensure that each

student contributes to the group and impress upon them the value of ‘true cooperation’.

It therefore becomes a question for me why the rural teachers seem not to orient their

students with the expected roles and tasks from the group work. It appears to me that there seems

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to be an ‘implied collective understanding’ of what this ‘groupwork’ is for in this class. It is

through focus group interviews with the students that I was able to capture a deeper sense of

understanding on what ‘groupwork’ is for in the rural school. In my analysis of the rural students’

responses to my question on ‘groupwork’, it becomes clear to me that this ‘groupwork’ is

implicitly understood within the context of the rural school as a strategy of teachers to develop

social skills such as cooperation and ‘maintaining harmonious relationships’ with their

classmates. While the students’ responses on ‘groupwork’ is discussed at length in the next

chapter, it would be useful at this point for me to report some of their perceptions towards

‘groupwork’. Take note for instance the response of one student, Jay-ar, who expressed that he is

not very interested with ‘groupwork’ because “it is not different from group games [he] plays with

[his] friends after school in [their] backyards”. Upon hearing this, Maya, who is in the same focus

group with Jay-ar, agreed with him and said, “school is for studying not playing around”. As this

did not make sense to me during the focus groups, the students help me understand by explaining

that for them, ‘groupwork’ fosters camaraderie in the classroom but does not really help them

learn ‘new things’. By ‘new things’, the rural students mean ‘new lessons on academic concepts’.

The rural students prefer partner activities over ‘groupwork’ because “learning how to cooperate

with [their] classmates is better learned outside the classroom, usually from [their] weekend games

in [their] neighbourhood.” The rural students further explained to me that “partner activities can

make [them] actually learn something useful in school” (FG6).

It then appears that apart from economic context in the rural school that restrains its

teachers to use ‘groupwork’, there are also cultural dimensions at work behind the rural students’

reservations about the value of ‘groupwork’. What appears to me as some form of an implied

collective understanding of the purpose behind the practice of ‘groupwork’ could be explained by

some cultural forces at work in the rural school which differed from those I had observed in the

city school. In the urban school, there was a prevalent use and acceptance of ‘groupings’ (i.e.

cooperative learning) from both its teachers and students. These, ‘groupings’, as described by the

urban teachers, are used interchangeably with ‘cooperative learning’, and among the top three

practices of teachers within the urban school. The strategy was perceived by most of the urban

teachers as an effective practice for, as Mrs. Aga, the Biotechnology teacher puts it, “build[ing]

lasting friendships among students…[where] they learn how to be cooperative and creative”. This

perceived intent behind ‘groupings’ did not raise the same concerns from the urban students as

from the rural students. However, both schools appear to share a similar view on what group

learning is for—development of social skills among students. It is from this analysis where I draw

my argument that certain cultural factors are at play behind the reservations on the value of

‘groupwork’ in the rural school. This then calls for a deeper exploration of how the rural students

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perceive those teacher practices that require them to learn in groups. This will be a focus of the

following chapter where I will discuss teacher practices which rural students actually find most

helpful in their learning and those which they view as ‘good teaching’.

Conclusion

In this chapter, I have discussed the way in which the teacher is perceived to be influential in

developing student life skills valued in the rural community. These life skills enable the rural

students to contribute their strengths and talents to the village, allowing them to fully integrate

in the rural community. One way to integrate is through finding work which is valued as a

significant contribution by rural youth to the community. The value of this ‘work’ in the rural

community is found in the narratives of Mrs. Ningning, who brought to light that finding work in

the rural village is tantamount to ‘finding a deeper sense of purpose in the rural life’. While she

did not assert her ‘authority’ in the classroom, Mrs. Ningning is still able to fulfil the rural

community’s expectations from a teacher in her practice of ‘localising’. Through this pedagogical

strategy of ‘localising’, Mrs. Ningning sought to build in her students this ‘local pride’ which not

only deepens their sense of belonging to the rural village but also prepares them to fully

participate in the community life.

For Mrs. Ningning therefore, ‘good teaching’ connotes teaching practices which make

rurality relevant to her students. Most importantly, Mrs. Ningning’s ‘good teaching’ practices

allow students to reflect on how they can (1) contribute worthwhile efforts to the farming

community such as ‘finding work’ and ultimately, (2) participate fully in the rural life. Mrs.

Ningning achieves these goals for her students by embodying the role of a democratic teacher

who facilitates activities in which students can make connections between rural life and school.

One of these activities is ‘groupwork’, a strategy Mrs. Ningning employs in the classroom to

promote the valued skills of cooperation and teamwork among students. Mrs. Ningning uses

‘groupwork’ to foster relationships in the classroom, relationships that mirror those found in the

rural community. However, we already know from Mrs. Alab’s ‘home visits’, as discussed in the

previous chapter, that in the rural school, ‘actual’ relationship with the rural community is valued

more because of its positive gains not only in student engagement but also in keeping rural

students in school.

We learned from Mrs. Alab that rural teachers are, in principle, given the ‘authority’ by

the rural community to build relationships with the rural neighbours (kaabay) and families.

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These community relationships informed Mrs. Alab’s pedagogical decisions on which classroom

practices and strategies help her students most in learning. Mrs. Ningning however was not able

to uphold such ‘authority’, in the same way that she was not able to build this relationship with

the community the way Mrs. Alab did. These missing elements of authority and relationships could

explain why the rural students did not identify Mrs. Ningning as the ‘good teacher’. It could also

be that Mrs. Ningning’s democratic approach in teaching does not align with the rural students’

conceptions of what it is to be a ‘good teacher’, giving context to Schweisfurth’s (2013) notion

that student engagement varies based on a ‘culture’s respect for teachers’. Perhaps the rural

students opt for a teacher who exudes command and establishes discipline as a figure of authority

in the classroom. In order to investigate this further, the following chapter will discuss what ‘good

teaching’ means to the rural students themselves by exploring the elements of teacher authority

and relationships that fit within their perceptions of ‘good teaching’.

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C H A P T E R N I N E

“Tough teachers truly care” Rural students’ perceptions of good teaching

Introduction

This chapter explores the rural students’ perceptions of good teaching by addressing the

question, which of the teacher practices do rural students find most helpful in assisting them to learn

well? In examining the rural student data, I noted that the teacher practices which the rural

students perceive as ‘good’ can be categorized into four practices; namely: (1) establishing order

and discipline in the classroom; (2) joining students in their after-school and rural community

activities; (3) providing students with individual activities; and (4) giving well-explained lectures

and ‘recitations’.

I describe how the students perceive care provided by ‘strict and good’ teachers who use their

authority to promote classroom order, which is valued by the rural students as it provides them

a space that supports their academic learning. I examine the value that the rural students place

on their teacher’s ability to effectively manage misbehaviors without being punitive, noting that

the students can reciprocate care by deciding to participate and engage fully in the classes of the

teachers they respect. I identify that relational care and classroom discipline feature as essential

elements of student-assessed good teaching in the rural school. This provides an insight into why

these students’ perceive Mrs. Alab’s efforts as practices of good teaching whereas Mrs. Ningning’s

approach is not similarly valued.

I discuss the ways in which the rural students value extra-curricular activities, noting that these

‘civic involvements’ are those which they consider as providing the best opportunity to learn

prosocial skills such as altruism and cooperation rather than learning these skills from

‘groupwork’ in the classroom. I foreground ways in which Conde’s (2006) and Ramos’s (2008)

notions of kaabay (neighbour) can give cultural context to the rural students’ stories of malasakit

(a deep sense of personal and compassionate care) from their ‘strict but good’ teachers who are

perceived as their companions in times of difficulties in the rural community. I discuss the way in

which these students value their teachers’ lectures and ‘recitations’, and illustrate that whilst

these teacher practices are ‘teacher-centered’, they directly address the students’ ‘expressed

need’ (Noddings, 2012) to acquire the academic thinking skills, which for them are critical for

their success in school, and in forwarding their personal goals and aspirations for their family

and rural community.

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Most helpful teacher practices in rural students’ learning

A majority of 26 out of 32 rural students who participated in the focus group interviews identified

their English teacher, Mrs. Alab, as the one who helps them most in learning well while the other

six students identified either their Science teacher, Mrs. Agham or Miss Rosal, the Values

Education teacher. Generally, the students refer to these three teachers as ‘strict but good’

teachers. They particularly identified Mrs. Alab as the ‘best of the three’ because her toughness as

a teacher pushes them to study hard and do better in school. On the other hand, Mrs. Ningning,

the Social Studies teacher, whom I identified as the ‘good teacher’ was perceived otherwise by the

rural students. The students explained that Mrs. Ningning was not able to demonstrate practices

which they perceive as good and helpful in learning well. The rural students’ perceptions of ‘good

teaching’ practices can be categorized into four themes; namely: (1) establishing order and

discipline in the classroom; (2) joining students in their after-school and rural community activities;

(3) providing them with individual learning activities; and (4) giving well-explained lectures and

‘recitations’. Each of these practices is discussed below.

Establishing order and discipline in the classroom

The rural students in this junior class have eight teachers, five of whom are described by the

students as ‘strict’. Three of these five teachers—Mrs. Alab (English), Mrs. Agham (Science), and

Miss Rosal (Values education)—are identified as ‘strict but good’ teachers because, as one student

from each of the five focus groups reported, “they want us to truly learn” (FG1); “they want us to

pass the subject” (FG2); “it’s their way to help us move up to grade nine” (FG3); “they really care for

us” (FG4); and “they want to be build our character and make us see the value of discipline” (FG5).

On the other hand, the last two of the ‘strict’ teachers, Mrs. Nayon, the Tagalog language and

literature teacher and Mr. Igot, the Maths teacher, were not perceived as ‘good’ teachers because,

as one student explains, Mrs. Nayon “is only strict because she doesn’t want to get distracted. It’s

for her, not for us. Besides she does not really know us personally and doesn’t even call us by our first

name”. A different student describes Mr. Igot as “strict and almost good but is usually late, absent,

or leave us with modules to work on while he is away”.

As I examine these students’ responses about their ‘strict but good’ teachers, it appears

that students have an acute awareness of what happens in the classroom. Weinstein (2002) is

particularly correct in claiming that students are “deeply sensitive observers of the classroom

reality” (p. 288). The same can be said about the rural students in my study who seem to have

strong beliefs towards who among their strict teachers are ‘good’ and those who only use their

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authority for the purpose of asserting their position over the students or covering up for the lack

of preparation in teaching.

With their ability to establish classroom structure and exude command in teaching, the

three ‘strict but good teachers’ gain the respect and admiration from their students. For instance,

one student, Enteng, admires and respects these three ‘strict but good’ teachers because, as he

remarks, “they can make us behave with just one look. They always come to class prepared, which

is obvious because they teach without looking at textbooks”. Another student, Jona, also expresses

how “thankful [she is] to have teachers like them because they really care for [their] learning by

coming to class even when [the students] learn that they’ve been very busy at school or even when

the weather is bad—they don’t use it as an excuse not to teach”. Enteng’s and Jona’s responses

resonate with the themes of respect reported in studies on classroom management (Weinstein &

Woolfolk Hoy, 2006). In their review of studies on classroom management which focus on student

perceptions on ‘effective managers’, Carol S. Weinstein and Anita Woolfolk Hoy concluded that

the respect which students have for their teachers is crucial in understanding good teaching. This

is because, as they explained, “students’ decisions about whether to cooperate (e.g. follow

classroom rules, behave in class) are often based on their respect for the teacher” (Weinstein &

Woolfolk Hoy, 2006, p. 182, example supplied). This particularly holds true with Pedro, the

student whom I discussed in Chapter Seven to have a record of ‘cutting classes’ in the rural school.

Pedro remarks:

I like [Mrs. Alab] the best even though she’s really strict with me. I think her being tough pushes me to come to school even there are times when I feel it’s better to just work on the farm for the money. She’s the voice in my head saying, ‘Go to school! Come to class!’ I think she’s the reason why I’m still in school.

Mrs. Alab’s ability to instill discipline in the classroom is valued by her students in the same way

that they value Miss Rosal’s ability to make them pay attention in class. The rural students,

especially Eloisa, perceive Miss Rosal as ‘strict but good teacher’ because of the way she exudes

command in teaching through her

loud and clear voice, plus her slow pacing around the room as she speaks during lectures to see if everyone is really paying attention. She takes teaching seriously, so we take learning seriously, too. It’s amazing how everyone is behaved and attentive in her class.

In the same way, Mrs. Agham, the science teacher, is also perceived as ‘strict but good’, especially

her way of managing the boys who misbehave in class. One student, Jerik, describes how Mrs.

Agham differs from his other teachers:

I appreciate how [Mrs. Agham] manages us (boys at the back). She does not reprimand us in front of our classmates. Instead, she addresses the entire class

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to remind us of the proper classroom behavior. This is why I respect her because she respects us.

It can be noted in the rural students’ responses that they can distinguish between strict teachers

who care for them and strict teachers who are unreasonably controlling. It also appears that they

perceive good teaching from strict teachers who have the “ability to exercise authority and to

provide structure without being rigid, threatening, and punitive” (Woolfolk Hoy and Weinstein,

2006, p. 183). The rural students are particularly sensitive to ‘strict uncaring teachers’ to an

extent that they participate less agreeably to their classroom rules and engage less actively during

their classes. Take for instance this sharing of Dagul about how he responds to one teacher he

perceives as ‘strict and uncaring’:

When my friends and I are scolded in front of the class, we feel that we are being shamed. So, we turn ‘passive aggressive’ toward that teacher, and gets even with her by cutting classes or not listening to her lectures by making noise to distract her and just, you know, irritate her and make her blood pressure high.

Dagul’s response can be attributed to Schlosser’s (1992) “purposive acts” of students when they

engage in ‘maladaptive behaviors as a reform of resistance’ against teachers who are not teaching

properly or those who are rude and not even know their students by name (cited in Weinstein &

Woolfolk Hoy, 2006, p. 183). Clearly, the rural students’ willingness to participate in the

classroom is influenced by the respect they have for a teacher. Much of this respect comes from

their perception of care expressed by teachers who exercise authority in order to teach them

discipline rather than to punish them. These rural students respect ‘strict’ teachers who care for

their learning by maintaining classroom order, which the students value because it provides them

with a space conducive for studying, concentrating on their seatwork, focusing on their lessons,

paying attention to lectures, and completing academic tasks. In general, it is a combination of

authority and care which these rural students look for in their teacher’s practice of ‘good

teaching’. It is the absence of both authority and care which they reported as the reason why they

did not perceive Mrs. Ningning as a ‘good teacher’.

Why the students did not perceive Mrs. Ningning’s practices as ‘good teaching’

Across six different focus groups, several students reported that they find Mrs. Ningning “too

kind” (FG3) and suggest that “she has to be a little bit more tough and strict in class (FG5)” but at

the same time, “needs to reach out to her students not just in class but also outside” (FG2) and must

“try to get to know more her students personally”. These responses suggest that while the students

require their teachers to be tough and strict, they also want their teachers to show care for them.

This echoes Weinstein and Woolfolk Hoy (2006) claim that “when students call for teachers to be

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stricter, they are thinking of a particular kind of disciplinary practice” (p. 186) to an extent that

such discipline primarily aims to create classroom order, so students can learn without too much

distraction. This claim particularly holds true with one student, Isha, whose sharing about Mrs.

Ningning gave me a clearer understanding why the rural students did not find her classroom

practices as ‘good teaching’. Isha’s sharing reminded me of an incident in Mrs. Ningning’s class on

my first day of observation, which I did not record in my fieldnotes because at that time I focused

instead on Mrs. Ningning’s teaching strategies.

To recall, Mrs. Ningning was teaching her lesson on ancient Egyptian civilisation (see

Chapter Eight). I noticed that while she was setting up the LCD projector and the students were

working quietly on their seats, one boy, Kanoy, who finished his work earlier than others, pulled

a clip off a girl’s hair in front of him. The girl, Isha, grimaced, turned around, and stared scornfully

at Kanoy. Then, she looked at Mrs. Ningning as a gesture of seeking her help to call out Kanoy.

However, Mrs. Ningning who was reviewing her slides on her laptop did not have a clue about the

incident. Isha shrugged and continued her work, looking upset. Kanoy sniggered. Two weeks

later, during our focus group interviews, Isha narrates this incident without mentioning who the

teacher was. Isha comments, “I do not like this teacher who is not aware of what is happening in

her class, like boys who pull girls’ hair. I can’t give her the same respect I have for [Mrs. Alab]”. Isha

compares this teacher (whom I understand is Mrs. Ningning) with Mrs. Alab whom she likes and

respects because Mrs. Alab “knows who is misbehaving even when she is writing on the board. To

make that student stop, she simply says his name”. Isha also thinks that Mrs. Alab makes her “feel

protected in class” and keeps her “free from distractions, not like this teacher who ignores noisy and

rowdy boys. It’s difficult to focus when the class is disorderly.” Clearly, as Isha’s response suggests,

students “have little respect for teachers who are unable to achieve an orderly classroom

environment” (Weinstein & Woolfolk Hoy, 2006, p. 210).

In a separate focus group from Isha, the boy, Kanoy expresses his thoughts about Mrs.

Ningning when I asked him about his views about strict teachers and how they influence the way

he behaves in class. Kanoy replies:

I misbehave because [Mrs. Ningning] doesn’t care. She doesn’t know me anyway. But with … [Mrs. Alab], I behave properly. I don’t want to upset her because I know she only wants me to pay attention, which is why she strict. She does not get mad just to embarrass me in class. Well, [Mrs. Ningning] doesn’t do that to me either, but she doesn’t care if I misbehave or not.

Kanoy’s willingness to behave in class appears to be influenced by the care and respect he

receives from Mrs. Alab. More importantly, in saying, ‘I don’t want to upset her’, Kanoy believes

that when he behaves in class, he is returning the care and respect Mrs. Alab gives him. To some

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extent, Kanoy’s behavior in Mrs. Alab’s class resembles Noddings’s (1992; 2013) notion of

reciprocal caring, which suggests that while the care given and received between a teacher (as

the carer) and a student (as the cared-for) is almost always asymmetrical, there are instances

however when a student acknowledges the teacher’s actions or behavior as caring and returns

the care received. This is evidenced in Kanoy’s decision to behave and pay attention in Mrs. Alab’s

class when he recognizes that behind her ‘being strict and tough’ is an intention to care for his

learning. Kanoy’s response also resonates with the findings in Davidson’s (1999) study which

suggest that students whose teachers demonstrate care and respect for them are willing to

reciprocate by being attentive and conscientious.

This perception of care however is not associated with Mrs. Ningning. For the rural

students, especially Isha and Kanoy, Mrs. Ningning is perceived as uncaring when she does not

notice minor misconduct that distracts others from learning or when she deliberately ignores

misbehaviors that disrupt classroom order. However, in my interview with Mrs. Ningning, she

clearly expressed how she cares for her students, particularly in the way she “instill[s] in [them] a

deep sense of appreciation and confidence in belonging to a rural farm”. The students however, as

they revealed in the focus group interviews, did not perceive these ‘caring efforts’. This suggests

that while “teachers do care, [they however] are unable to make connections that would complete

caring relations with their students” (Noddings, 2005, p. 2). The rural students perceive care

when a teacher makes an effort to extend what they refer to as pakikisama, a Filipino concept

which roughly translates to ‘harmonious interpersonal relationships’. Mrs. Ningning however did

not mention as much about ‘student-teacher relationship’ or ‘home visits’ as Mrs. Alab did in our

interview, which gave me the impression that relationship is not much of a priority for Mrs.

Ningning as it is for other teachers in the rural school. This is affirmed in one of her students’

comments, “except in the classroom, we barely have other chance to know more about [Mrs.

Ningning]. Clearly, it is not what Mrs. Ningning does in class (i.e. her use of learner-centered

strategies such as ‘groupwork’ as discussed in Chapter Eight) but what she does not do (i.e. being

strict, creating classroom order, fostering relationships) that influenced the rural students’

perception that her way of teaching is not good (enough).

Given that her relationship with the students is constrained within the classroom, it

appears that Mrs. Ningning’s lower level of engagement with managing students’ misbehaviors

comes from her limited knowledge of the interpersonal domain of her job, and her lack of

engagement with the students’ personal backgrounds. For the rural students, they feel most cared

for when a teacher strengthens close and personal relationships (pakikisama) not only with them

but also with their families. The rural students also identified other ways in which a teacher can

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build pakikisama, such as when a teacher joins them in their extra-curricular activities in the rural

village. This type of activity however is not practised by Mrs. Ningning. This then brings us to the

second most helpful teacher practice in learning well as identified by the rural students.

Joining students in their after-school and rural community activities

Across five different focus groups, the rural students randomly tell stories about their school

clubs in which there are instances when their teachers participate in the activities that students

organize for the school and the rural community. While not entirely an instructional strategy used

in the classroom, this teacher practice of joining students in their extra-curricular activities is

mentioned frequently by the rural students who perceive it as not only helpful in learning well

but also in giving them “a sense of achievement” (FG5); “a feeling of belonging to this class” (FG2)

“a reason to stay in school” (FG3); and most importantly, an opportunity to “establish strong

personal relationships with teachers” (FG4). Given this influence of extra-curricular activities in

the students’ sense of achievement in school, it becomes necessary for me as the researcher to

explore further the dynamics between the rural students and their teachers in these school clubs.

During our focus group interviews, I noted how enthusiastic the rural students were in

narrating their stories about their experiences in their after-school and community activities with

their teachers (i.e. Mrs. Alab, Miss Rosal, Mrs. Agham, Mr. Igot, and Mr. Ugma) who are also their

school club advisers. These telling of stories would continue even after their focus groups. As I

share lunch with them or walk home with them, the rural students continued to tell me how much

they like being in their school clubs because, as they expressed, they “learn cool science hacks”

from Mrs. Agham, “get a break from speaking in English and just communicate freely” with Mrs.

Alab, and even “share high-fives and confide anything about life” with Miss Rosal.

Given the positive views of the rural students towards their extra-curricular activities, I

conducted an extra focus group interview with selected eight rural students from the same junior

class, so I could explore more fully their perceptions of ‘good teacher practices’ related to after-

school and community activities. Two of these students were members of campus journalism

whose club adviser was also Mrs. Alab, their English classroom teacher. Both students, Ben and

Cory, were also volunteer ‘broadcasters’ who reported school and community announcements

after their flag ceremonies. Ben narrates how campus journalism under Mrs. Alab’s guidance

enhances his “communication skills and brings out talents” he never thought he had, like “public

speaking and news writing”. In the same way, Cory shares how Mrs. Alab gave her the opportunity

to attend student press conferences in the city and even accompanied her during her “first

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editorial writing competition with students from other schools in the city”. Cory also recalls how

Mrs. Alab reminded her to compete, “win or lose, the most important thing is doing one’s best”. Cory

further expressed, “[Mrs. Alab] makes me feel accomplished as a student, even if it is not about

academics”.

Two other students in this extra focus group recount their experiences as ‘eco-marshals’

in their Science club with their Science teacher, Mrs. Agham who is also their club adviser. Julma

recalls how she and other student volunteers, together with Mrs. Agham, are already on campus

at six in the morning, “earlier than the rest of the students to make sure the school grounds are

clean, and the litter are properly segregated”. Niño, on one hand, narrates how Mrs. Agham

designated him as the team leader to “supervise the late-comers who are weeding the school lawn

as a consequence for coming late and not attending the flag ceremonies”. Niño’s sharing helped me

understand why there are students from all grade levels cleaning and weeding the school lawn

every morning after the flag ceremonies, which, as it turns out, is a disciplinary strategy to

discourage students from coming late to school. It also happens that Mrs. Agham lives nearby

which explains why she is already on campus early to supervise her ‘eco-marshals’. Julma and

Niño also narrate how Mrs. Agham stays after school to coach them for their science quiz bees so

they can “compete with other students in the city”. Julma recalls how excited and anxious she was

to be in the city for the first time to compete with other high school students from city public

schools and even private schools. She remembers how Mrs. Agham made her feel optimistic about

winning because if they do, as Julma reveals, they could “bring home the prize of books and

laboratory equipment which would be donated” to Barrio High School. Niño adds, “[Mrs. Agham]

makes me feel that I can achieve and contribute something for my school”.

Two other boys, Arnel and Sonny, also describe their leadership roles under the student

military training of their chief commandant and also their Maths teacher, Mr. Igot from whom

they learned how to “set a good example for other students in simple ways such as wearing proper

school uniform, attending the flag ceremonies every day, and staying in the classroom during class

hours,” Arnel remarks. On one hand, Sonny claims that it is in Mr. Igot’s training of discipline

where he learns to take “responsibility in refraining from getting involved in any school trouble and

help out in keeping the school grounds clean and safe for everyone”.

The last two members of the extra focus groups, Jona and Marian, proudly tell their stories

about their experience in winning a drum and bugle regional competition in a civic parade during

a recent fiesta which took place in the city center. Much of the success, as they shared with the

group, is because of their training under their corps commander and Music, Arts, and P.E. teacher,

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Mr. Ugma, who coached them after school to prepare for the regional competition. Jona recounts,

“[Mr. Ugma] was already on site hours before our competition and readied water and food for our

entire team, so we can play our music loud and strong.” Marian recalls how Mr. Ugma encouraged

them despite feeling “disheartened because the instruments of other students from the city are

much better than ours but he reminded us that it is not the instruments that will make us win, it is

our fighting spirit”. Jona adds, “[Mr. Ugma] tells us that if we are proud to be from [Barrio High

School] then our drums and trumpets will create beautiful music”.

These stories about feelings of achievement and pride in participating in school activities

support the conclusion of Farb and Matjasko (2012) that school-based extra-curricular activities

improve both student academic performance and prosocial behaviors among adolescents. Such

conclusion is derived from their review of 52 empirical studies published between 2004 and

2009, where seven of these studies show positive relationship among three variables, namely:

participation in extra-curricular activities of adolescents (from grades six to ten), their academic

performance (grades and attitudes towards school), and adolescent development (healthy

adolescent functioning, wellbeing, and prosocial behaviors). A similar finding is reported in a

Philippine-based qualitative study of Rungduin and Reyes (2016) in which developmental

characteristics of Filipino learners were explored. Findings in their case study suggest that

Filipino high school students, particularly those in eighth grade, are “characterized by a more

meaningful social involvement as the learners begin to participate in activities towards

community development” (p. 14). Filipino teachers of these eighth graders reported that their

students develop strong social behaviors and positive attitudes towards school as they actively

participate in school activities, especially community-based programs. Rungduin and Reyes

(2016) also found these eighth graders to have deep appreciation of cooperation between and

among groups and are likely to prefer more group activities than individual tasks. However, most

of these preferred group activities are held outdoors as “eighth graders…transform from being a

part of a group, to actively cooperating with and learning groups not only inside the classroom but

in communities as well” (Rungduin and Reyes, 2016, p. 16, emphasis added). This is particularly

evident in the rural students’ narratives about their involvements as volunteers in programs

organized by Barrio High School for their rural community, which they refer as ‘civic

involvements’.

‘Compassionate caring’ of teachers as a rural ‘companion’

The rural students’ stories about their ‘civic involvements’ are particularly telling. These stories

bring to light the ‘compassionate care’ of the rural teachers as they shift their roles from a

‘classroom authority’ to a ‘rural companion’. Two of these stories also capture the experiences of

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the rural students as volunteers under the supervision of Mrs. Natad and Miss Rosal, in the time

when the province of Bikol in the Philippines was hit by a typhoon and a number of families from

the rural village evacuated to Barrio High School, which is the village’s designated evacuation

center by its local government unit. As the rural students recall, Mrs. Natad, being their Home

Economics teacher, was in-charge of supervising them prepare food for the families who were

typhoon evacuees. The students also recount their experience with their Values Education

teacher and a volunteer herself, Miss Rosal, who helped them transform their classrooms into

‘second homes’ for families from the neighbouring villages days before the typhoon. Ben recounts

how Miss Rosal helps them sort relief goods for the families, “making sure that each sando bag has

two cans of sardines, two instant noodles, and four cups of rice, and hand each bag ever lovingly to

each family”. One student, Niño, remembers the last four hours before the typhoon hits, “[Miss

Rosal] showed us how to place recycled tarpaulins over the windows so the strong winds could not

enter the classroom and blow the ceiling and roof off.” Another boy, Sonny, narrates how Miss Rosal

instructs him and his classmates to “place sacks of sand on top each of other by the doorway to keep

the flood out of the classroom”. When the typhoon passed, Arnel describes how the village “looked

so different, everything is flattened, the coconuts stood like bent toothpicks and the rice fields seemed

like rivers”. When the relief started, Marian remembers that time fondly, saying, “it is nice to have

[Miss Rosal] around with us because I was able to know her personally and see her in a different

light—that she is actually really kind in person. I’m used to seeing her so strict in the classroom.”

The rural students also revealed that their own families were the typhoon evacuees and their

teachers, especially Mrs. Alab and Miss Rosal are with them in the classroom, serving them soup

and rice. “They even bring extra clothes and mats for us to use. They do really care for us like how

our neighbours help each other during typhoon. They even stay to say prayers for all of us,” another

student, Arnel, expresses his appreciation for Mrs. Alab, whom he regards as "the one who is one

of us and with us in the rural community”.

From the reports of the rural students on their ‘civic involvements’, we can see that

Conde’s (2006) notion of kaabay (neighbour) in the rural community resurfaces through the

‘reciprocal caring relationship’ experienced among the rural students, their families, and the rural

teachers when “they care for each other in both material and nonmaterial ways” (p. 35-36). More

importantly, this mutual sense of care between the rural teachers and the community transforms

their role as an ‘authority figure’ in the classroom to a rural ‘companion’ during difficult seasons

in the village. This relationship of the rural teacher as a ‘companion’ of her students and their

families is particularly evident in Marian’s and Arnel’s responses in which they ‘see their teachers

in a different light; that is, their teachers becoming one with the community’ especially in times of

calamities. Marian’s and Arnel’s responses also give context to Ramos’s (2008) notion that kaabay

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transcends its literal meaning of ‘neighbour’ to a deeper meaning of ‘companion’ when

neighbours care for each other, knowing that the suffering of one neighbour is also shared by the

other.

As the role of the teacher shifts, so too does the relationship between her and the rural

students. The relationship becomes more caring because it is fostered not simply for the sake of

pakikisama (getting along for the purpose of keeping group harmony) but rather for this strong

sense of profound empathy towards one’s neighbour called malasakit. A Filipino concept which

roughly translates to ‘compassionate care’, malasakit can be understood more concretely during

challenging times such as in the occurrence of calamities or in how Jocano (1997) explains, even

in the day-to-day experience of poverty at home. Malasakit, which is rooted in -sakit, which means

difficulty, allows one to share one’s difficulty and go the ‘extra mile’ (Adviento & de Guzman, 2010)

to help, resulting in the personal engagement in the welfare of the community as one’s own.

Strong community ties and the promotion of ‘true cooperation’

With the malasakit (a deep sense of personal and compassionate care) that rural teachers extend

to the families of their students, the classroom becomes an extension of the rural village thereby

creating a strong school-community connection. This community relationship of Barrio High

School could also explain the sense of achievement and positive attitude towards school among

the rural students. This lends support to studies on rural schools whose findings show that close

relationship with the community is a strong contributor to the success of students despite their

difficult economic backgrounds (see Barley and Beesley, 2007; Rodriguez, 2008; Khattri, Riley,

and Kane, 1997).

More importantly, strong community ties are, as Khattri, Riley, and Kane (1997) claim, an

advantage that rural schools have over their counterparts in the city because these relationships

allow students to learn prosocial skills such as helping and volunteering (altruism), as well as

relating with others and working together (cooperation). This learning of prosocial skills is

particularly evident in the rural students’ responses about their ‘civic involvements’ which they

perceive as the best opportunity for them to learn ‘true cooperation’ rather than in small

cooperative learning groups their teachers (i.e. Mrs. Ningning) provide them in the classroom.

This then brings our discussion to the third teacher practice which rural students perceive as

helpful to their learning.

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Providing rural students with individual learning activities

Within my three weeks of observation in the rural school, I did not observe the teachers organize

their students to work in cooperative learning groups. Instead, I noted the large amount of time

that these rural teachers allot for individual learning activities for their students. The previous

chapter in which I reported the rural teachers’ views towards ‘groupwork’ explores the reasons

they hold for this. In general, the rural teachers point to the issues of classroom space and the

noise of students in ‘groupwork’ that carries through adjacent classrooms as significant barriers

in using Cooperative Learning in Barrio High School. Also, as the rural teachers disclosed during

interviews, they generally observe their students to be more engaged in individual activities than

in ‘groupwork’.

To recall, I reported in the previous chapter my observation among the rural students

who seem to show disinterest towards their ‘groupwork’ (i.e. slow and lethargic behavior as they

join their respective groups; doodling on their notebooks or tinkering with the beads on their ID

laces before proceeding to the task; chatting with classmates instead of doing the group task),

particularly during my last week of observation in Mrs. Ningning’s class. However, when they

were given individual seatwork or partner activities (e.g. think-pair-share, dialogues, dyadic

workbook exercises) by Mrs. Ningning and other teachers, the rural students show more

behaviours of engagement (i.e. starting with the task immediately; demonstrating interest and

enthusiasm; consulting the partner on how to go about completing the task; working silently but

attentively on the task). Prior to my focus group interviews with the students, I made a comment

in my fieldnotes that the positive attitude of the rural students towards individual activities (and

their lack of engagement in ‘groupwork’) could be explained by the absence of structure in their

cooperative groups. At the time of my observation, I have in mind the principles of ‘Structured

Cooperative Learning’ (in Gillies, 2004) to be applied in this junior class to ensure active

participation and engagement of each student in a group. I also made a comment in my fieldnotes

that there is a need for the rural teachers to select tasks that are more appropriate for ‘groupwork’

to make students more engaged in small groups. If the students do not see the sense of achieving

the task in groups, especially when instructions on tasks, group proceedings, and processes of

assessment are not clear, there is a strong chance that students would rather do the task on their

own. As Lotan (2006) puts it,

often students resent engaging in groupwork to complete task they could as easily, and at times more efficiently, complete on their own. They might also find it frustrating to always be the one group member who provides the explanations or, conversely, being the one who always needs them (p. 535).

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During my focus group interviews with different students, I was able to understand more

fully the reason behind their disinterest in ‘groupwork’ (in the classroom) and why they favour

individual or partner activities instead. This interchange with the rural students who belong to

the third focus group provides insight behind my observation of their disinterest in ‘groupwork’:

Lucille: I observed that you seem more enthusiastic over ‘solo’ seatwork than in groupwork. Am I correct to say this?

Boyet: Yes. But sometimes groupwork is okay. Lucille: Does that mean you would like your teachers to have more groupwork for you?

Alma: Only when she gives each of us a task. Lucille: So, when each of you in the group has a clear task at hand, you’d like to have more

group activities? Alma: No, not all the time. I’d like to go solo, so I can really concentrate and learn.

(The rest of the students in the focus group agree.) Oka: …and also because we don’t have a lot of groupwork in class. Lucille: Why so? Oka: It’s boring to have them all the time. Lucille: Why do you say it’s boring? [Students are silent while thinking] Don’t you think it’s fun to work with friends in your group activities? Perla: Not as fun as the group games we have after school— ‘hide and seek’, ‘play tag’… [Other students in the focus group agree and enumerate merrily other

traditional Filipino group games that they play] Lucille: But your teacher says group activities are good to teach you teamwork,

cooperation… Oka: but we can learn those better in games in the neighbourhood or there on the school

lawn Tintin: or at The Quill Boyet: or with The Stargazers Lucille: What are those? Tintin: Ah, those are our school clubs. We learn real teamwork there. Lucille: What do you mean by ‘real teamwork’? Tintin: You know, true cooperation—like helping each other, working together—

cooperate. Alma: Yes, we learn how to cooperate in our school clubs Perla: or when we volunteer in civics. Boyet: Besides, if we have groupwork in class, what sets it apart from our group games in

our backyards? I would like to learn a lot from school. I don’t like to waste time on group activities and games (in the classroom).

I use the same style of questioning in the subsequent focus groups to probe further the rural

students’ perceptions towards ‘groupwork’. Across three different focus groups, the rural

students conveyed similar perceptions towards ‘groupwork’, which is, as they reported, a

strategy used by their teachers, particularly Mrs. Ningning, for the purposes of promoting

camaraderie and developing their social skills such as ‘working together’ and ‘cooperating with

each other’. The rural students perceive that ‘groupwork’ does not serve its purpose in the

classroom because, as one student, Rene, explains, “learning how to cooperate (i.e. get along;

relate) with my classmates is better learned outside the classroom, usually from weekend games in

our neighbourhood”.

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‘True cooperation’ according to the rural students

As far as cooperation (the prosocial skill) is concerned, the rural students reported that it is in

their ‘civic involvements’ that they learn the value of ‘true cooperation’. These students’

responses could explain their disinterest toward ‘groupwork’ (as the instructional strategy). Such

perceptions suggest that the rural students think it is better not to have ‘groupwork’ in the

classroom if the ‘groupwork’ is primarily used by the teacher to teach them how to ‘get along with

each other’ or for them to ‘learn how to cooperate’. Anyway, as the rural students comment, they

have their ‘civic involvements’ in the rural community to teach them those skills rather than

learning it from a mere simulation of their community activities; that is, their ‘groupwork’ in class.

This shows that the rural community provides the students with plenty of opportunities to learn

how to cooperate and build positive relationships (i.e. home visits, after-school club activities,

civic involvements and volunteerism in the rural village). Therefore, to maximize their academic

learning time in the classroom, the rural students suggest having individual or partner activities

in place of ‘groupwork’.

Another student, Dida, comments, “Besides, the classroom is for studying, not for playing

around”. Pido, agreeing with Dida, remarks, “if we have groupwork here [in the classroom], so what

then sets it apart from the group games we play in our backyards?” As I probed further what Pido

and Dida meant by their comments, it appears that they share similar perceptions with their

classmates in the third focus group about ‘groupwork’. Pido and Dida also think that it is better

to put ‘groupwork’ aside because for them, the rural community already offers them with complex

life experiences that allow them to genuinely learn about how people cooperate and relate with

each other in the ‘real world’. Besides, as Dida comments, “we are already very close to each other,

we know each other already,” so the rural students do not find much use for ‘groupwork’ in the

classroom, given that there is a presumption that ‘groupwork’ is, as how it also perceived in city

school, a teacher’s strategy to develop social skills and camaraderie among her students.

The disinterest of rural students towards ‘groupwork’ in the classroom gives context to F.

Landa Jocano’s notion that classmate interrelationships among rural students are ‘taken for

granted than sought’ based on his decades of ethnographic research on Filipino youth in rural

communities. Jocano, with colleague, Paz Policarpio Mendez, observe that while classmate

interrelationships and winning friends are among the top priorities among Filipino adolescents

in the city, “rural students [however] take their classmates for granted, because these are either

relatives or neighbours whom they have known all their lives” (Jocano and Mendez ,1979, p. 122).

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This is particularly evident in Dida’s comment that she thinks there is not much need for

‘groupwork’ in her class because she and her classmates “know each other already”. This could

also explain the rural students’ preference of individual seatwork which trains them how to think

on their own and self-regulate their learning.

‘The classroom is for studying; outside is learning about life’

To probe further into the rural students’ preference for individual learning activities over

‘groupwork’, I asked the eight students in the extra focus group similar questions with those I

asked in the previous five focus groups. While they share similar views with their classmates

about ‘groupwork’, the students in the extra focus group reveal particularly telling stories which

provide insight behind their disinterest in ‘groupwork’. One of the eight students in the focus

group, Arnel, expresses that he finds individual tasks more helpful in learning well than

groupwork because

when I go to school, I want to really learn something—to read, to write, to compute, to speak English, to study, because there is no other place to learn these. If I don’t learn anything, all my walking to school, my parents’ sacrifices—all is wasted.

Arnel’s classmate, Cory, expresses her agreement, “what a waste, too, when the teacher is absent

or when there is no order in the classroom, it feels like all the struggles in being able to come to

school that day, which could have been spent on the farm or at home to help our parents, all go down

the drain.” Arnel’s and Cory’s narratives align with the comment of their classmate from the other

focus group, Dida, who asserts that “the classroom is for studying, not for playing around.”

The rural students’ responses suggest that they have a clear set of expectations towards

what to learn inside (or outside) the classroom. For instance, these rural students seem to

associate learning nonacademic skills with opportunities encountered outside the classroom,

which could explain the greater value they place on ‘civic involvements’ than ‘groupwork’ in

learning social skills like cooperation. On the other hand, these rural students seem to designate

the classroom as a place for academic learning, which could explain their perceptions of ‘good

teaching’ towards their teachers’ practice of ‘establishing classroom discipline’ and ‘providing them

with individual or partner learning activities’, as both support their need to develop academic

skills. These two teacher practices allow the rural students to “pay close attention to the lesson

(Sonny),” thereby compelling them to, in Jona’s words, “use our head to think, and be both minds-

on and hands-on with our learning tasks” because, as Arnel already explains, “there is no other

place to learn these”. This affirms that for these rural students, the classroom is the best place for

them to learn how to think and develop academic skills.

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Apart from individual or partner learning activities, the rural students also identified their

teachers’ practice of ‘explaining well in lectures’, which, Marian regards as the most helpful teacher

practice in their (academic) learning because, “we can actually learn new things from it while in

the classroom”. By ‘new things’, the rural students refer to “academic concepts which help us

understand our lessons more clearly”, Marian explains on behalf of her classmates in the extra

focus group. Marian’s comments then bring us to the last of the four teacher practices which the

rural students find helpful in learning well.

Giving well-explained lectures and recitations

Of the classroom practices which support the rural students’ (academic) learning, it is their

teachers’ ‘well-explained lectures’ which they perceive as the most helpful. By lectures, the rural

students refer to a way of teaching where their teacher is “standing in front of the class” (FG2) and

“providing discussions for the whole class” (FG3). These rural students identified Mrs. Alab, their

English teacher, and Miss Rosal, their Values education teacher as those who give the most

engaging lectures. Miss Rosal for instance, is perceived by these rural students as an ‘engaging

lecturer’ because she “does not read lessons from the book,” “brings pictures or actual objects to

class”, and “makes lessons relatable by sharing either funny or inspiring stories in her lectures”. On

one hand, the rural students particularly find Mrs. Alab’s lectures engaging because she “does not

mind repeating explanations of the lesson,” “gives as much examples as possible until the concept is

clear,” “provides seatwork after the lectures,” and most importantly, “encourages recitation during

lectures” (FG1).

Encouraging recitations

Across five different focus groups, the rural students identified Mrs. Alab’s practice of

‘encouraging recitations’ during her whole-class lectures as helpful in learning well. I did not

however observe Mrs. Alab used graded or scripted student recitations as described in literature

which critique teacher-centered methods (Cuban, 1983; Crumly, Dietz, and d’Angelo, 2014). By

‘recitations’, the rural students are referring to instances when Mrs. Alab “asks several questions

within her lecture,” which, as one student, Boyet, describes, “give us fair chance to participate in

class where we can freely give answers not found in books”. Another student in a different focus

group, Vilma, identifies Mrs. Alab’s ‘recitation’ as helpful in “making the lessons very clear” because

Mrs. Alab’s questions assist them in “seeing the bigger picture”. Vilma further narrates, “if not

many of us are raising hands to recite, Mrs. Alab takes it that we do not yet understand so, she does

not mind repeating her explanations of the lesson for us”.

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In my observation of what the rural students refer as ‘recitation’ in Mrs. Alab’s class, I

noted that it aligns more with direct instruction (Rosenshine & Stevens, 1986) given that Mrs.

Alab’s lectures are punctuated with questions which aim to monitor and firm up student

understanding. To some extent, Mrs. Alab’s practice of whole-class ‘lectures and recitations’, as

how the students call it, also matches the practices used by ‘active teachers’ which are reported

in ‘teacher-effect’ (process-outcome) studies as effective in promoting student learning (see

Reynolds, 1998). In these studies, it was reported that “in general, effective teachers have been

found to teach a concept, then ask questions to test children’s understanding, and if the material

did not seem well understood, to re-teach the concept, followed by more monitoring” (Reynolds,

1998, p. 150, emphasis added). While Mrs. Alab’s teaching practices are generally teacher-

centered, her lectures accompanied with clear explanations and questions challenge the

presumptions held against direct instruction and interactive whole-class teaching. These teacher-

centered approaches are largely criticized for promoting only rote learning among students (see

Schug, 2003; Goeke, 2009). This is however contested by Tan and Abbas (2009) in their critique

on the practice of traditional teaching methods in Southeast Asian classrooms (i.e. Singapore).

They argued that

while more teacher-centered approaches are used (in Singapore), the focus is not on the memorization of facts, but on the students’ understanding of key concepts. A direct teaching is often accompanied by an explanation of a rationale for the prescribed belief or action (Tan & Abbas, 2009, p. 30, context supplied).

Tan and Abbas’s (2009) claim that direct instruction assists students’ conceptual understanding

is particularly evident in the responses of Bobot, one of the students whom, as discussed in

Chapter Seven, I observed taking a nap in Mr. Ugma’s class. To recall, Bobot is one of the students

who work as porters at the city market every other day at dawn. Mr. Ugma, who explained to me

Bobot’s situation, allows Bobot to nap while in class but has to attend remedial instruction after

school for the lessons he missed in Mr. Ugma’s class. Bobot however, as I observed, is particularly

awake in Mrs. Alab’s class (which comes after Mr. Ugma’s class at eight forty-five in the morning).

I also observed that Bobot actively participates in Mrs. Alab’s class, frequently ‘reciting’—raising

his hand along others to bid Mrs. Alab’s attention to call him, and when called, Bobot stands to

face his classmates and answers Mrs. Alab’s question. During our focus group interview, Bobot

openly shares his thoughts on how Mrs. Alab’s class ‘recitations’ help him do better in school. He

explains that during these recitations, Mrs. Alab asks questions which he can answer because, as

Bobot explains, “I don’t have to be bookish to answer her questions. [I don’t have] to say exactly

what’s in the textbook. If that’s the case, I couldn’t recite as much because I don’t have my own

textbook. That’s why I recite frequently in her class, I just have to say what’s in my mind.” Bobot also

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reveals that recitations in Mrs. Alab’s class enable them to get “bonus points for [their] ‘class

standing’ so [they] couldn’t really fail the subject should [they] have low scores in our exams”. With

this response from Bobot, I inquired further:

Lucille: Why is it important for you not to fail this class? Bobot: Because life is hard. Life is harder when you’re not educated. Lucille: If you have to choose, would you rather just have to focus on your studies and not

worry about working? Bobot: [Pause to wipe tears] Yes, but I want to help my parents. I want to help our family

have a better life. If I don’t study hard, we will always be like this.

In listening to the stories these rural students share, particularly the one told by Bobot, I noted

that there is a strong common theme of ‘helping my family’ across all focus groups. This theme

constantly appears among student narratives which tell stories of both their difficulties and

determination in pursuing their studies. This suggests that ‘helping my family’ is the driving force

behind every rural student’s effort of reciting in class whilst sleep-deprived (Bobot), paying

attention in lectures even when very hungry (Jay-ar), studying hard even at home where there is no

electricity (Jona), walking to school to save money (Arnel), preparing homework while doing house

chores or taking care of siblings (Cory), coming to class every day then working on the farm on

weekends (Pedro), and generally doing well in school despite challenging conditions at home and

in the rural village. Such responses of these rural students identify convergence of findings among

Philippine studies (i.e. Ligo-Ralph, 1990; Jocano, 1997; Magno, 2010; Okabe, 2013) which support

a conclusion that Filipinos have high regard for education because it is considered instrumental

not only in achieving personal life goals but most importantly, securing a better future for the

entire family.

Responding to students’ personal goal of ‘helping my family’

These rural students speak vigorously about their aspirations for their family, goals which they

believe can be achieved by studying hard and completing high school. This is evident in the

response of Jona, who dreams of being a nurse in the city, so she can help her parents and, as she

narrates, “take away the burden from them of worrying for our future and living a difficult life”. To

achieve this, Jona promises to study hard and earn a degree because, “I want to make them proud

that even we are poor, they are able to send me to school. I would like to honor my parents’ sacrifices

for me”. Jona’s responses give context to Jocano’s (1992) claim that Filipinos value education as a

part of a legacy that parents leave to their children. Because of this orientation, the Filipino child

continues to value this legacy by exerting effort and working hard in school. Filipino youth are

expected by their parents to earn college degrees or at the least, complete high school, as a source

of both pride and inspiration in the family. The child exerts effort to meet these standards because

it is valued in Philippine culture (Jocano & Mendez, 1979; Jocano, 1992).

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Sharing a similar view with Jona, another student, Niño is committed to complete his

studies, this way, as he illustrates, “I could give back to my parents and to my community. But it’s

hard to do this if one is uneducated. I think one becomes a better person when she or he is able to go

to school”. Also, Niño wishes to help his parents by studying hard, so he can qualify for a

scholarship that can get him to a university near Manila where he plans to earn his bachelor’s in

agriculture. This way, as Niño explains, “I can go back and help my father run his own farm, maybe

grow coconuts or mangoes. This way, he does not need to go to the other village to work as a contract

laborer during rice harvest season”. Niño’s responses echo Adarlo and Jackson’s (2017) notion

that Filipinos see the educative process in school as indispensable for living a ‘full life’ as a

person—a person who lives in, with, and for the community. Filipinos, as Adarlo and Jackson

(2017) maintain, strongly believe that there are values and skills which can only be learned in

school; therefore, a person’s (Filipino) value is deepened and becomes fulfilled when educated.

This notion of ‘personhood’ among Filipinos is actualized when one’s talents and skills learned in

school are shared with the community. Such skill becomes a person’s contribution to the good of

the community, making her or him a valuable member of the society. This is evident in Nino’s

response, as he further illustrates the importance of his teacher’s practice of lectures:

To realize my dream, I want my teacher to help me learn stuff. If I spend school learning how to get along, which is also good, but if I do not actually learn academic concepts, what will happen to me? That’s why I want my teachers to really care for my learning. I need them to give lectures and explain well so I will really learn.

Nino’s response gives context to King’s (2003) notion of care which, as she argues, “should be

empowering” because “limiting care to emotional or sentimental caring can be dysfunctional

without intention or plans to prepare students for skills needed to live” (p. 156). Therefore,

critical to caring is “giving students, particularly those at risk, lifelong learning skills to improve

their life circumstances” (King, 2003, p. 156). Clearly, the perceptions of these rural students

towards their teacher’s lectures and ‘recitations’ as practices of ‘good teaching’ (while being

‘teacher-centered’ methods) could be accounted to how these practices directly respond to their

‘expressed needs’ (Noddings, 2012, p. 773) as learners and fulfil the ‘cultural expectations of

education’ (Livingston, Schweisfurth, Brace, and Nash, 2017, p. 13). This could also explain the

rural students’ perception of care from teacher-centered practices, as these address their actual

needs as learners within the rural community and further support their personal goals for their

family.

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Conclusion

There are at least three key lessons learned from this chapter. First, is that relationship is central

to the rural students’ perception of ‘good teaching’. This relationship however requires far

beyond a rapport between the student and the teacher. The relationship desired by these

students in the rural school is not confined within the classroom walls but rather it extends

towards the community. This relationship calls for the rural teacher to build strong ties with her

students’ families and neighbours, transforming her role from a classroom authority to her

students’ ‘companion’ as she becomes fully aware of their challenges at home in the village. These

students tell us that as the role of the rural teacher is stretched to include school and community

life, so too is the relationship between her and the rural students. This relationship becomes

grounded on this deep sense of compassionate care (malasakit) and concern towards students’

learning and aspirations in school. This relationship which is built on malasakit is perceived as

care by the rural students as they recognize that the teacher who cares is the one who

understands that behind their everyday struggles in attending school is a long-term goal of

‘helping their family’.

Secondly, the rich narratives about what these rural students perceive as ‘good teaching’

foreground the role of a teacher as classroom authority. This role is valued by the rural students

because they viewed that as Mrs. Alab maintains her authority, classroom order is also

maintained. This finding supports Weinstein and Woolfolk Hoy (2006) claim that teachers’ ability

to exercise their authority to provide classroom structure without being rigid, threatening, and

punitive are particularly significant in the students’ perception of good teaching. It is important

for these rural students that the classroom is a conducive space for learning. This is because after

school they are expected to help in house chores and farm work, leaving no opportunity and place

for them to study but inside the classroom.

Lastly, the priorities of the rural students on what to learn inside the classroom hinted at

what the rural community might expect from them as its youth, and provided a glimpse into the

local ways of teaching, learning, and building relationships. It appears that unlike their

counterparts in the city whose immediate (and only) community is the school, the rural students,

in contrast, belong in concentric circles of communities—the school, their home with extended

families, the neighbourhood (which is locally referred to as the kaabay), and the rural village.

Each of these circles of community has distinct expectations from these rural students. The school

community, for instance, expect these rural students to acquire both academic and leadership

skills. This could explain why they perceive Mrs. Alab’s use of teacher-centered methods and at

the same time, her support in their school club involvements as practices of good teaching. The

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next of the concentric circles of communities—the rural students’ kaabay or neighbourhood—

expects these students to embody the social skills that are valued for fostering pakikisama (group

harmony) and social cohesion which keep the fabric of the rural community together. Then comes

the wider circle of these students’ community; that is, the rural village, which expects them to

strongly develop the prosocial skills of cooperation, volunteerism, and altruism. These skills are

deeply valued in the village as these benefit the entire rural community in times of difficulties

such as natural calamities. Working together (cooperation) and helping each other (altruism and

volunteerism) are the bedrock of the rural community which makes it resilient under very

challenging conditions. This plurality of roles embraced by the rural students could explain their

priority in acquiring academic, social, practical skills (as provided to them by Mrs. Alab) rather

than learning academic skills alone (as prioritised by their counterparts in the urban school).

This chapter has shown the way in which the community expectations, local ways of

fostering relationships, and the cultural respect for a teacher as a classroom authority significantly

shape the perceptions of good teaching. This suggests that limiting ‘good teaching’ to a simplistic

binary of teacher-centered and learner-centered without a mindful consideration of the cultural

values upheld about teaching, learning, and most especially, relationships, could run the risk of

ignoring or dismissing a wide range of pedagogies which can be a rich source of knowledge on

how to help our students learn best within a cultural place.

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C H A P T E R T E N

Conclusion

Introduction

This chapter draws conclusions from my research to propose a rethinking of the dichotomised

views towards learner-centered and teacher-centered pedagogies which are held under the K to

12 reform in the Philippines. In the first section, I briefly demonstrate the contribution

ethnographic research methods have made in providing opportunity to observe the way that

teachers enact their philosophies of practice and to interview both teachers and students to gain

their perspectives about what constitutes good teaching. Use of ethnographic methods helped to

illuminate the subtle and often ignored cultural dimensions of what is valued as good teaching in

various contexts. While there appears a general acceptance in current literature that culture has

a strong influence on the implementation of learner-centered pedagogies in the classroom, it is

critical that very specific and local ways of teaching, learning, and relationships be further

examined as these cultural nuances can provide understanding on how they can either reinforce

or obstruct the practice of certain pedagogies in the classroom.

In the second section, I compare the findings discussed in the data chapters which reveal the key

distinctions of how good teaching is perceived in the urban and the rural schools. In doing so, I

highlight the nuanced cultural elements that are behind the variance in perceptions in these two

settings. I also emphasise the similarities between sites, seen in the way in which the teachers

maintained their classroom authority and retained teacher-led methods while also fostering

caring student-teacher relationships. These relationships, although somewhat differently

enacted in the two settings, were perceived by their students as forms of academic care.

In the third section, I discuss the general conceptions of ‘teacher-centered’ practices revealed in

this study. I discuss that while negatively associated with ‘teacher-centered instruction’,

maintaining teacher authority and using whole-class lectures are valued by the students (more

than teachers) as practices of good teaching in this study. This is not only because the roles of a

teacher as a figure of authority and content expert equip students for academic success. Most

importantly, these two roles of a teacher reflect the deeper cultural respect for teachers and the

valued local ways of maintaining student-teacher relationships in the Philippines. Such cultural

valuing of teacher authority and her practice of traditional pedagogies (e.g. academic lectures

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anchored on socially relevant themes and stories of struggles and success) are perceived by the

students as effective in facilitating their learning.

In this regard, I emphasise in the fourth section that what appears as good teaching in this study

is a varied range of teacher practices which equips students with academic knowledge, (pro)social

skills, values formation, and character building. Development of these skills is believed to be

facilitated effectively through teacher-centered modes of teaching. This could also explain the

value which the students strongly placed on their teachers’ enactment of academic care as a

practice of good teaching because this supports their need for both academic success and a strong

sense of ‘personhood’ belonging in a community. The enactment of academic care among teachers

in this study, as I observed it, resembled a learner-centered practice, as the learners’ needs were

central to the focus of the teacher. This demonstrates that the perceptions of good teaching in this

study could not be confined to one end of a spectrum (learner-centered) or the other (teacher-

centered) but lies within a whole range of teacher practices, moving back and forth in a

continuum to respond to and uphold what is valued as a local way of teaching, learning, and

fostering relationships within a cultural place.

With this, as shown in the fifth section, I suggest the need for a deeper exploration of good

teaching under a cultural lens through ethnographic enquiry. Such understanding, as I argue,

allows for a reframing of the term ‘learner’ under the learner-centered teaching framework; that

is, the learner must be acknowledged as a person in, with, and for a community. This entails a

broader understanding that the student as the learner is a person at the center of concentric

circles of communities—the family, the classroom, the school, the neighbourhood, and the

immediate local community—each has a distinct set of expectations for this student to fulfil. It is

this reframing of the ‘learner’ that this study seeks to contribute to the body of knowledge in

teaching and pedagogy.

This chapter culminates with a conclusion that the academic caring, which manifests the Filipino

cultural valuing of ‘malasakit’ (a deep sense of personal and compassionate care) and

‘pakikisama’ (maintaining smooth interpersonal relationships within a community) provides an

important orientation towards understanding how learner-centered approaches could be

articulated for the Filipino context. While the K to 12 reform policy in the Philippines has strong

directives to use prescribed instructional strategies for the country’s education to be ‘truly

learner-centered’, this study has raised a notable finding that academic caring fostered through

student-teacher relationships (while a practice placed outside the domain of instruction) could

offer a possibility which bridges the presumed binary between learner-centered and teacher-

centered pedagogies in the Philippines.

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Methodological findings: The value of ethnographic enquiry in a study of pedagogy

The presumed dichotomy between learner-centered and teacher-centered pedagogies couched

within the national education reform policy in the Philippines points to the need for a critical

investigation into how ‘good and effective’ teaching is understood and practised in the grassroots

level—the classroom. With this research problem, this study examined teacher and student

perceptions of what constitutes good teaching in two junior classes within two secondary schools

in the Philippines—one in a disadvantaged public school in a city center and another in a much

poorer rural community. With this aim, I explored the following questions:

1. How do teachers in a junior urban disadvantaged high school and in a junior rural disadvantaged high school in the Philippines understand, value, and set out to practise good teaching?

2. Which teacher practices do students in an urban and a rural high school

find helpful in their learning?

3. To what extent are these teacher and student views consistent with what the researcher observes to be effective use of learner-centered and teacher-centered pedagogies within the two research settings?

To address these three research questions, I used ethnography as research approach to gain a

deeper understanding of a certain reality that students and teachers have about good teaching.

The qualitative nature of ethnography is, as Denzin and Lincoln (2005) and Atkinson and

colleagues (2003) maintain, is best suited for studies which seek to provide understanding of

complex settings such as the classroom. The complexity of the classroom as a research setting can

be understood in a way that Martin (1987) defines a classroom as a culture where its immediate

community shapes the beliefs, practices, and behaviours of its teachers and students. Within this

culture, a classroom can have its distinctive patterns of behaviour, attitude towards teaching and

learning, and “beliefs about education and the roles of teachers and students” (Martin, 1987, p.

20). Ethnography then allowed me to immerse deeply in this culture of teaching and learning in

the classroom.

In employing the ethnographic methods of participant observation, focus groups with

students, in-depth interviews with individual teachers, I was able to recognize the cultural

conditions of learning and teaching as I sought to identify those classroom practices which the

teachers and students in this study perceive as good and effective. Ethnography as a research

approach has then enabled me to attend to the subtle and often ignored cultural dimensions of

what is valued as ‘good teaching’, and this attending led to interpretations that might not

otherwise arise. For instance, my analysis of the rural teacher data in which teachers exclude

group work from their pedagogical repertoire could have settled on an interpretation that poor

economic conditions in the rural school obstruct the use of some learner-centered strategies. The

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inclusion of the student data however reframed my analysis that the several cultural factors (i.e.

mentality about what the classroom is for; expectations towards the value of education in the

local community; the respect towards teachers within the community) may have lessened the

valuing of ‘group work’ as an instructional strategy in the rural school where opportunities to

cooperate were readily available to students as part of their rural community life. The rich and

descriptive student data drew my attention to examine beyond what seem as ‘obvious’ economic

constraints to learner-centered strategies. This lifted my analysis from a reportage of the school

environment into a deeper examination of cultural elements which tend to be silenced in the

discussions of effective pedagogy in the field of learner-centered education. This shows how

effective ethnography can be as a methodological approach in a study of pedagogy such as this

research project because it provided an understanding on the centrality of culture in shaping the

perceptions of good teaching within local places. Ethnographic methods have enabled this by

allowing me to capture a sense of reality in which local culture can either obstruct or reinforce

the practice of certain pedagogies in the classroom.

With this, I suggest that nuances in local ways of teaching and learning (including

classroom relationships) be further examined among studies in pedagogy particularly whose

which seek to explore conceptions of good teaching. This is because what is valued as ‘good’ in

teaching is cultural as much as it is pedagogical. This of course, as Robin Alexander (2008) may

point out, is a statement of tautology given that pedagogy, first and foremost, is and has always

been about understanding the act of teaching and the ideas, values, and beliefs by which that act

is informed. In other words, teaching as ‘pedagogy in action’ is not a just set of disembodied

practices of instruction. Teaching practices are not merely the ‘personal predilections’ of

individual teachers, but a reflection of the ‘shared values of a wider culture’ (Alexander, 2008a, p.

19). Pedagogy reflects and manifests local values. Therefore, as Alexander (2008) argues, an

omission of culture and its values in studies on teaching detaches from what pedagogy is and

actually entails.

Regrettably, however, research which investigates the cultural elements behind

classroom practices that assist or hinder student learning remain elusive among studies of

pedagogy in the Philippines. Much of what is currently known about ‘good teaching’ (effective

teaching, to be more accurate) especially in the Philippines derives from literature that promote

‘best practices’ of learner-centered teaching based on cultural contexts and studies conducted

outside the country. National policies for education reform are grounded on the evidence

provided in international literature which then become prescriptions rather than descriptions of

what teaching and learning should look like in Filipino classrooms. Given this, there appears a

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significant need for qualitative studies which employ ethnographic methods to examine what

constitutes ‘good teaching’ according to Filipino students and teachers (from various geographic

and economic contexts in the Philippines), particularly in this time when the country is under an

education reform which required a radical shift to a learner-centered curriculum and strong

directives for “teacher-centered pedagogical strategies [be] applied…to a lesser extent”

(SEAMEO-INNOTECH, 2012, p. 44). With the Philippine “Department of Education’s discursive

shift to a learner- rather than a teacher-centered education” (Bautista, Bernardo, Ocampo, 2009,

p. 8), the reform policy can then be read as placing learner-centered teaching in a binary

opposition against teacher-centered instruction, thus potentially creating a simplistic dichotomy

between good and bad teaching, and positioning ‘bad teaching’ in the form of teacher-centered

pedagogical approaches as one of the leading factors behind the country’s deteriorating quality

of education. It is in this reform policy dilemma that ethnographic studies can contribute to what

is currently accepted (and dismissed) as effective and good practices of teaching by shedding light

into the cultural conditions of learning and teaching as well as providing insight into how other

locally-valued pedagogies (teacher-centered or learner-centered or both) could truly help

Filipino students learn well.

With these research gaps and methodological considerations in mind, I engaged in an

ethnographic enquiry to examine the what constitutes as ‘good teaching’ for students and

teachers from two schools of different geographical and economic contexts. Engaging in this

study’s ethnographic data, which were collected over the period of one month in each school,

offered situated understanding of how pedagogical decisions and practices are (subtly yet

pervasively) shaped and altered by context and culture. I obtained such understanding after I

examined fifty-seven Filipino students’ perceptions towards ‘good teaching’, thirty-one from a

disadvantaged public school in the city and twenty-six from a much poorer rural village in a small

province in the Philippines. More specifically, I listened to the stories told by these students in

various focus groups about the practices of their teachers which they perceived as most and least

helpful in learning well in school. In analysing these student data, I assessed how their

perceptions of ‘good teaching’ align and depart from those of their teachers. Also, in engaging

within the narratives of these students, I examined how their school priorities and aspirations

mirror the local needs and expectations of their immediate communities.

Teacher data, on the other hand, are gathered from my individual conversations with the

teachers of these students. I inquired into how these seventeen Filipino teachers, nine from the

urban school and eight from the rural school, understand, use, and value learner-centered

strategies and teacher-centered methods. In my analyses of each teacher’s responses and

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practices, I noted that behind their classroom practices are pedagogical decisions shaped by

cultural expectations and values of social cohesion which are both beyond their knowledge. Apart

from these conversations with the teachers and students, I also participated in their everyday

encounters not only in the classroom but also in their school communities. Observations alone,

just as solely relying on teacher or student interviews, would not have captured the rich picture

and complex realities of the classroom as a micro-culture. In engaging in the fundamental

elements of participation, observation, and conversation (Atkinson, Coffey, and Delamont, 2003)

in ethnography, I gained a more holistic view of what actually happens in the classroom, a view

which I could not have obtained had I not engaged in an ethnographic research. Engaging in the

three fundamental elements of ethnography allowed me to understand with increasing clarity

and depth the way teachers enact their philosophies of practice, their students’ responses to these

practices, and the students’ and the teachers’ views about ‘good teaching’. This demonstrates the

usefulness of ethnography as a methodological approach in making sense of the students’ and

teachers’ realities and lived experiences within the classroom—a microcosm of complex cultural

systems where local values and ideas abound. Ethnography attempts to capture these

complexities of the classroom culture thereby producing findings that provide a glimpse into the

interplay of learning, teaching, and culture—the very essence of pedagogy.

Synthesis of ethnographic findings

While the findings from this ethnographic study are not generalizable to the wider population of

disadvantaged public high schools in the Philippines, the small sample of two classes from two

different schools provides an insight to what is held true about ‘good teaching’ within two specific

cultural and economic places. Overall, findings show that the practices which are perceived in

both schools as most helpful are predominantly teacher-centered instructional methods,

particularly those which highlight the authoritative role of a teacher as one who equips students

to succeed academically. While teachers uphold their authority in the classroom and heavily

practise teacher-centered methods, I also observed them to strongly demonstrate acts of

relational care for their students. Student-teacher relationships which are built on the Filipino

valuing of malasakit (a deep sense of personal compassionate care) and pakikisama (maintaining

smooth interpersonal relationships within a community) are perceived by the teachers as central

to their practice of good teaching. The students, on one hand, perceive these enactments as

‘academic caring’ because these support their priorities to complete school and fulfil their

aspiration to help their families upon graduation. These student priorities were shaped by the

differing socio-economic and cultural expectations of their urban and rural communities. The

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cultural dimensions behind what the students and teachers understand to constitute good

teaching were discussed in the previous five data chapters, as outlined below.

Chapter Five addressed the research question, How do teachers in a junior urban

disadvantaged high school and in a junior rural disadvantaged high school in the Philippines

understand, value, and set out to practise good teaching? In this chapter, I analysed the way in

which Mrs. Francia, the Maths teacher, practises an instructional method which resembles

Rosenshine’s (1986) direct explicit instruction and Popham’s (2001) curriculum-teaching. While

I perceived Mrs. Francia’s instructional methods as a form of ‘teaching to the tests’, I observed

that her students displayed strong indicators of engagement despite the very teacher-centered

‘pedagogical look’ of her class. The way Mrs. Francia engaged her students through her practice

of teacher-centered methods challenges notions about what good teaching is and what student

engagement should look like, particularly those which are described (and to some extent,

‘prescribed’) to take place in a learner-centered classroom. Nonetheless, as Livingston,

Schweisfurth, and Nash (2017) argue, what student engagement looks like is not universal, but

rather is culture specific. Student engagement is shaped by varying conditions within cultural

contexts including the local ways of learning and teaching. In Mrs. Francia’s view, the students in

the urban class show high levels of engagement under her teacher-centered methods because

these methods are aligned to their priority whilst in school; that is, to achieve academically. This

is consistent with what her students reported, as discussed in Chapter Six. I additionally observed

Mrs. Francia to strongly practise caring student-teacher relationship, which she considered as the

cornerstone of good teaching and most supportive of student achievement. It appeared to me that

the enactment of caring relationships towards students is a form of a learner-centered practice.

Caring relationships are also exhibited by the teachers in the rural school. However, the

enactment of this care, as demonstrated in Chapter Seven, are more personal than those in the

urban school, in the way that the rural teachers extend their relationship to the families of their

students and their community. In this chapter, I analysed the way in which the roles of rural

teachers shift according to where they are in the community. Inside the classroom, for instance,

while the urban teachers focused on their role as a content expert, the rural teachers, on the other

hand, assume two kinds of authority— ‘authority of knowledge’ and the ‘classroom authority’.

These two roles were embodied by the English teacher, Mrs. Alab. In assuming the role of an

‘authority of knowledge’, Mrs. Alab practised ‘teacher-talk’, a form of lectures in which local

themes pertaining to the rural community are incorporated. By being strict and tough without

being overly punitive, Mrs. Alab, as the ‘classroom authority’, believed that she instils in her

students the discipline, courtesy, sociability and other attitudes and skills which the rural village

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expects its teachers to develop among its youth. Outside the classroom, on the other hand, Mrs.

Francia’s role as a teacher shifts from an authority to a kaabay (a ‘trusted companion or

neighbour’). This different role is fulfilled through Mrs. Francia’s way of fostering strong and

caring relationship with her students and their families through her practise of home visits. This

way, Mrs. Alab explained, students imbibe a deeper sense of belonging in the community.

Another rural teacher, Mrs. Ningning, a Social Studies teacher explained that one way of

cultivating the rural students’ sense of belonging in the community is by preparing students for

work in the community. As demonstrated in Chapter Eight, Mrs. Ningning strongly valued the

classroom practice of ‘groupwork’ (a form of cooperative learning) which she perceived as

effective in teaching her students the value of cooperation and teamwork—the social skills she

viewed as essential in finding work. This work, however, is not understood in the rural school as

mere economic independence nor associated with corporate employability. As explained by Mrs.

Ningning, this means more than just earning money. For Mrs. Ningning, when her students strive

to ‘complete school so they can find work’, they essentially want to make themselves ‘useful in

the village’ and not become a ‘burden’ to the community. In finding work after school, Mrs.

Ningning noted, students are able demonstrate their willingness to contribute to the village and

participate in its community life. Thus, for Mrs. Ningning, when she practised strategies such as

‘groupwork’, she was able to equip her students with the social skills that may help them ‘find

work’ in the future. In other words, she was helping her students to ‘find life’ because ‘belonging

in and contributing to the rural community is life’.

Her students however did not perceive Mrs. Ningning’s instructional strategies and style

in classroom management as helpful. They preferred the authoritative approach of Mrs. Alab over

the learner-centered approach of Mrs. Ningning. In analyzing the rural student data about which

of their teacher’s practices were helpful, I foregrounded the ways in which the rural students

placed value in completing a high school education. While the poorer conditions in the village

posed real obstacles for school attendance, their stories, as told in Chapter Nine, showed their

strong desire to finish their studies, regardless of receiving low marks from time to time. These

students prioritised completing school because, as they explained, it is valued in their family and

in the community. The rural students had clear expectations of what to learn inside and outside

the classroom in order to complete school.

Inside the classroom, for instance, these students expect their teachers to teach them

academic skills. To learn these skills, they required that the classroom be an orderly space for

them to fully concentrate on their studies. This explains their preference for Mrs. Alab as the

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‘strict but good teacher’—an attribute which they did not find in Mrs. Ningning. For these

students, when Mrs. Alab maintains her authority, classroom order is also maintained, providing

them a space without unnecessary learning distractions. This is important because the only

opportunity for these rural students to study is inside the classroom. After school, they are

expected to help in house chores and farm work and do not have the opportunity to study at

home. Outside the classroom, on the other hand, these rural students expect to learn ‘non-

academic’ (pro)social skills. This explains their active involvement as student volunteers when

the village is hit by typhoons. The community spirit during calamities is viewed by these students

as an authentic experience to learn from the ‘true’ value of cooperation. It is in this context in

which the students explained their disinterest towards ‘groupwork’ as practised by Mrs.

Ningning. They viewed Mrs. Ningning’s ‘groupwork’ as a mere simulation of authentic

experiences that the rural community already provides for them.

While the rural students show disinterest in ‘groupwork’, the students in the urban class,

on the other hand, show strong engagement in ‘groupings’, a form of cooperative learning in the

urban school. This was demonstrated in Chapter Six, which addressed the question, which of their

teacher’s classroom practices do urban students find helpful in learning well? The students in the

urban class found that ‘groupings’ provided them with the social support they needed from their

classmates, given the strong academic climate of their class. These students perceived ‘groupings’

as an effective instructional strategy in encouraging peer relationships and reducing the academic

pressure. The value placed on ‘groupings’ in this urban class lends support to Nguyen, Elliot,

Terlouw, and Pilot’s (2009) claim that cooperative learning in some cultural contexts is “likely

perceived as a vehicle to reinforce relationships, with its impact upon cognitive achievement

usually being seen as less important (p. 122).

The students in the urban class, like their counterparts in the rural school, placed value in

completing high school. However, the urban students prioritised academic achievement more

than those in the rural school. The urban students identified Mrs. Francia, their Maths teacher, as

the one who helps them achieve in school. The way Mrs. Francia fostered positive student-teacher

relationships was perceived by these students as enactments of academic care, which gave them

the support they need to achieve. On one hand, Mrs. Francia’s practice of lectures, which was

perceived by these students as ‘good teaching’, enabled these students to develop their mastery

in topics which they will be tested, thereby allowing them to ‘get good grades’. For these students,

‘good grades’ become their stepping stone to fulfil their aspiration; that is, to help their family

improve their life circumstances. ‘Good grades’, as viewed by these urban students, build their

capacity to gain economic independence not only for themselves but also for their family. The

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value that the students in this urban class place on academic care supports Weinstein and

Woolfolk Hoy’s (2006, p. 183) claim that high-achieving students prefer ‘academic care’ rather

than ‘personal care’ from teachers who provide them with direct guidance on their academic

work and help them get good grades. However, what distinguishes the academic care as perceived

by the students in this study from Weinstein and Woolfolk Hoy’s (2006) is that the urban

students’ need for care arise from their aspiration to help their family and not simply achieving

academically as an end in itself. ‘Good grades’, for these urban students, serve three main

purposes: (1) a competitive advantage for university admission under full scholarship which

takes the burden off the parents in raising money for their children’s tuition; (2) a sense of

security for the family that the child will be employed upon graduation; and lastly, (3) an access

to a better life for the family.

It is from this aspiration to help their family that we can understand the urban students’

valuing of Mrs. Francia’s teacher-centered instructional practices as ‘good teaching’. Her style of

academic care supports their priorities in school (academic achievement) and assists them to

fulfil their aspiration (helping their family). I observe that this academic care, as manifested

through student-teacher relationships, resembles a learner-centered practice and appears to cut

across the presumed binary between learner-centered teaching and teacher-centered

instruction.

What does ‘teacher-centered’ mean in this study?

The way teacher ‘authority’ is valued in this study provides a glimpse into how ‘teacher-centered’

instruction is understood in the two Philippine schools. The ethnographic data in this study has

illuminated the ways in which the teachers are perceived as figures of authority as they assume

the role of an expert of both substance (content) and knowledge (local wisdom). The high

regard that the students (and the community) give to teachers and their request for her to

maintain her authority through effective practices of classroom management and whole-

class lectures (or ‘teacher talk’) could suggest how the community trusts a teacher’s discretion on

how to contextualise pedagogies that will make learning more meaningful and relevant to their

students. Given their everyday encounters with students and strong engagement with the

community, the teachers in this study are trusted by their community that they are

knowledgeable on what to teach and how to teach it within the contextual realities and cultural

dynamics of their local community. What appear as ‘teacher-centered practices’, authoritative

classroom management and whole-class lectures are perceived by the students in this study as

helpful in learning well and to some extent, are recognized as enactments of academic care. This

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is because both these classroom practices develop the skills which the students see as essential

in their academic success. For instance, the students learn the value of discipline from their

teacher’s authoritative classroom management style while they acquire various forms of

knowledge from their teacher’s practice of whole-class lectures. These lectures, as I observed, are

punctuated with socially-relevant questions and are incorporated with stories that inspire these

students to continue their education despite extreme challenges. It then appears that the

teachers’ pedagogical decision to maintain their classroom authority and retain their practice of

lectures are informed by the value they see in these practices; that is, to teach not only academic

knowledge but also to impart to their students the local knowledge and wisdom valued in the

community, thereby building their students’ character and forming their values as a Filipino

youth. These lectures are then valued as a cultural tool that carries those which the community

regards as essential for its youth to learn. Hence, these ‘teacher-centered’ ways of teaching are

perceived as practices of good teaching in the sense that they develop students’ local knowledge,

build their character, and form their Filipino values. This finding supports Robin Alexander’s

(2008) notion that certain ways of teaching are undertaken for a purpose of enabling students

learn an expected set of knowledge, values, and skills which are considered most worthy in the

community. He also argues that teaching practices are manifestations of cultural values, rather

than merely responses to them. The act of teaching therefore is a vehicle of the upheld knowledge,

history, and traditions of the place in which this teaching is situated. As it is saturated with values,

the way teachers teach is framed (and governed) by the cultural ideas and expectations of

education (Alexander, 2008).

The way the teachers in this study retain their practice of teacher-centered

methods therefore embodies and reflects the assumptions about what is held true and good about

learning and teaching within local places. This suggests that the way ‘teacher-centered’ practices

are valued in this study could provide a glimpse into what knowledge, skills, and values are

considered most worthy in the community to be passed to its youth. The label ‘teacher-centered’

associated with the instructional practices of the teachers in this study however strips off the

value placed on their local ways of teaching. It is very important to note that whilst the teachers’

instructional methods are aligned with Rosenshine’s (1986) ‘direct and explicit teaching’ (the

mode of teaching which is negatively labeled as ‘teacher-centered’ by those who promote

education reforms through student-centered forms teaching; see Schug, 2003; Goeke, 2009),

what prompts them to practise these ‘teacher-centered’ methods is their focus on their students’

learning and academic success and most importantly, their concern for the students’ needs,

priorities, and aspirations. Thus, while their instructional practices are teacher-led, the teachers

in this study place their students at the center of their teaching. This shows that the label ‘teacher-

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centered’ does not adequately describe the instructional practices of the teachers in this study,

nor fully capture (and justify) the intent and focus behind their pedagogical decisions to retain

their traditional and local ways of practising what they value as good teaching.

What is good teaching in this study?

As this study took on a cultural angle in understanding ‘good teaching’, its findings illuminated

the ways in which a conglomeration of classroom practices is far too complex to be placed

under simplistic categories of learner-centered and teacher-centered (i.e. notions about good

versus bad teaching) especially when cultural dimensions are closely examined. Thus, at

this point in time when many developing countries ride the rising tide of learner-centered

education (LCE), particularly in the Southeast Asian region, there is a much greater need to be

critical on the “appropriateness of LCE on the deeper level of culture and query whether learner-

centred practice is a meaningful fit with local ways of understanding learning and

relationships” (Schweisfurth, 2013, p. 18). Alternatively, the question may not only be as to

whether or not learner-centered education fits the local ways of teaching. Given the strong state

directives among Southeast Asian countries to shift to learner-centered education as part of their

national reform, there is a critical need to raise the question, as called for in Tan’s (2010) notion

of ‘gelling’, how can learner-centered practices fit a country’s local ways of teaching? With

questions on the appropriateness of learner-centered education on a deeper level of culture, there

is a need to explore indigenous knowledge on learning and teaching, as Tan (2016) maintains, to

identify its shared principles with foreign forms of teaching such as learner-centered education.

This then could facilitate the implementation of learner-centered teaching using methods

teachers already practice and value as part of their culture. These questions of epistemology as

raised by Schweisfurth (2013) and Tan (2010; 2016) push the boundaries of how learning and

teaching should be (pedagogy and relationships), according to whom (authority and power), and

whose standards (local or global)—questions which trouble the existing binaries between

learner-centered and teacher-centered pedagogies and challenge notions that limit ‘good

teaching’ to learner-centered instructional practices. These questions therefore expand our

understanding that a continuum of ‘good teaching’ is a whole expanse of diverse pedagogies, from

a less learner-centered at one end to a more learner-centered at the other, without the

presumption that the less learner-centered practices (i.e. teacher-centered) are ineffective and

bad.

Good teaching as perceived by the Filipino students and teachers in this study could not

be confined to one end of a spectrum (learner-centered) or the other (teacher-centered) but lies

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within a whole range of teacher practices, moving back and forth in a continuum to respond to

and uphold what is valued about teaching, learning, and most importantly, relationships within a

particular place. Good teaching therefore implies a set of instructional methods and teacher

practices which are perceived of value within a culture, those which fit the local ways of (1) how

relationships are built and fostered; (2) how teachers are respected; and (3) how students are

recognised as learners within a cultural and economic place; and (4) what the students, parents

and teachers believe to be the key contribution of schooling. Alexander’s (2008) claim hold true

when he asserts that an attempt to understand a certain pedagogy should not be isolated from

culture and the values upheld within.

Reconceptualising the ‘learner’ under the Learner-Centered Teaching framework

The complex interplay of context, culture, and pedagogy, as demonstrated in this study, signifies

the need for a reframing of ‘learner-centered’ under a Filipino cultural lens. As the findings from

the ethnographic data in this study suggest, the understanding of learner-centered teaching must

be grounded on a mindful consideration that the student is a person who is learning within a local

place which is part of a community and its economy. Therefore, learner-centered teaching, as what

has transpired in this study, recognises this person as a learner (not just a student) whose

individual differences and person(al) contexts in learning are also taken into account. As the

learner is recognised as a person, it becomes necessary to also consider where this person is

learning, given that in the learner-centered teaching framework, as discussed in McCombs and

Whisler (1997) and then later in Weimer (2002), ‘context’ has a significant influence on how

students learn. However, the concept of ‘context’ in McCombs’ and Weimer’ works appears to

represent a general background of a student as an individual (i.e. school environment, classroom

climate, among others) rather than a deeper and mindful consideration of a student’s more

personal circumstances within an economic, geographical, and cultural place. Thus, in this study,

the concept of ‘context’ is expanded from a conceptual milieu to an actual place—the local

community where the learner is situated in. As this study takes the meaning of this context to a

deeper level of culture, it holds an understanding of learner-centered teaching as a set of teacher

practices (not only instructional methods) that consider the learner within a cultural place. This

includes those practices, especially those that foster student-teacher relationships and are built

on academic care, which support the actual needs of the learner as she embodies and fulfills her

varied roles as a child, a sibling, a student, a neighbour, a rural or urban youth, a future

breadwinner, and a member of a local community, among others. Learner-centered teaching in

this study suggests that it must recognise the learner as a person in, with, and for a community, a

full understanding of who she is and where she positions herself within concentric circles of

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‘communities’—the home, the school, the neighbourhood, and the local community itself. As

Schweisfurth (2013a) aptly puts it, the “learner needs contextualising not just in their own

classroom but in wider national development needs and in an increasingly important global

context. In this, a globalised, bird’s-eye view is certainly of value but it needs to be offset with

local understandings” (p. 6).

Implications for practice and policy

The perceptions of ‘good teaching’ in this study foreground the centrality of culture in shaping

the value placed on a pedagogy which resembles ‘teacher-centered’ instruction. As culture

underpins and sustains the practice of teacher-centered methods in these two Philippine schools,

culture also poses as a real (yet often overlooked) barrier to the use of learner-centered

instructional practices. As Yilmaz (2008; 2009) argues, the culture of a local community shapes

the pedagogical decisions and instructional practices of teachers. The school culture, in particular,

including the expectations and ‘worldviews’ or the cultural mentality within the immediate

community where the school is embedded, Yilmaz (2008; 2009) further notes, has a strong

impact on whether or not teachers would practice what has been described as learner-centered

teaching in their classrooms. This mirrors how learner-centered education, as a travelling global

policy, becomes problematic (but initially, a very attractive framework for education reform) as

it undergoes the contested process of being transferred (see Cowen, 2009), translated (see

Thompson, 2013), borrowed or even ‘transplanted’ (see Alexander, 2008) in different cultures.

Such problematics give context to Schweisfurth’s (2011) notion that “the history of the

implementation of learner-centered education in different contexts is riddled with stories of

failures grand and small” (p. 425).

Much of this failure can be accounted for in what appears as an omission of considerations

of culture in the decisions made about education reform policies while “culture is so pervasive a

shaper of education and educational realities that it cannot be possibly ignored” (Alexander,

2008a, p. 19). Policymakers appear to give little attention to the subtle yet powerful impact of

culture on the success or failure of the classroom implementation of the teaching approach they

seek to promote. Should it fail, teachers are blamed and the possibility that the ‘borrowed’

pedagogy may have been inconsistent with the cultural values upheld within the school

community is often dismissed. This ‘policy borrowing’ couched in the rhetoric of learner-centered

education reform can be conceived as the nostrum to the ills of education. I understand however

that ‘true reform’ in education, as Freire (1968/1995) has long argued, requires an understanding

of our own ‘situationality’—our country and its needs, priorities, and of course, our culture—

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rather than mimicking other nation’s structure of schooling and pedagogical scripts. This mimicry

may pose risk of abandoning traditional forms of teaching that may truly help students find

meaning in learning in school. Thus, as global policies are borrowed as part of national reforms,

there is a need to understand that the prescribed pedagogical methods may not always work out

as intended by policymakers. This could indicate that certain cultural elements within the local

communities where the school is located may not be attuned to the principles of the ‘borrowed’

teaching approach. As Alexander (2008) cautions:

We should be alert to the power of pedagogy to deliver messages that may or may not be consistent with the educational goals that we espouse, just as we should understand that in importing a teaching that we find admirable we may also import values with which we may be rather less comfortable. This is an appeal not to covert xenophobia but to a proper understanding of the relationship between pedagogy and culture (p. 39).

Rather than templates to be copied, available evidence on ‘best teaching practices’ and

‘international benchmarks’ could be used to better understand the complexities of cultural forms

of teaching and the contexts and conditions of the students’ learning. This way, education reforms

make move a step closer accomplishing the intended improvements in learning. For a reform in

education to be true to its goal, Freire would argue that the initiative to change must come from

within the nation, otherwise it may become “alienated from the spirit of [its] own culture” (Freire,

2007, p. 153).

In noting the covert and pervasive nature of culture in altering, sustaining, and inhibiting

the practice of a certain pedagogy in the classroom, I am not suggesting that ‘borrowed’ policies

(i.e. Learner-Centered Education as the global reform policy) are bound to fail or at best,

implemented with limited success. In the same way that I do not suggest that the Philippines

dismiss learner-centered education altogether despite that its fundamental notions about

teaching and learning seem to depart from what is held ‘good and true’ about effective teaching

in the two schools in my study. Rather, I suggest that an awareness of the pervasiveness of culture

as a shaper of education should inform policymakers and teachers alike as they consider whether

certain values may be lost in an effort to replace ‘teacher-centered methods’ with instructional

practices that are commonly understood to be central within learner-centered pedagogy.

Given their everyday encounters with students, classroom teachers may have well

understood the pervasive nature of culture in shaping their pedagogical decisions, classroom

practices, and most importantly, their relationship with students. One notable finding in this

study is that caring student-teacher relationships is central to what is perceived as good teaching.

This finding supports studies from a range of different cultural contexts which conclude that

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relational care is valued by students because it sustains a desire to stay in school, maintain their

sense of wellbeing, promote (pro)social skills, and facilitate their learning (King, 2003; Weinstein

& Woolfolk Hoy, 2006; Cornelius-White, 2007; Jennings & Greenberg, 2008; Garza, 2008; Johnson,

2008; Roorda, Koomen, Spilt, & Oort, 2011; van Uden, Ritzen, & Pieters, 2014). As King (2003)

points out, of all learner-centered strategies, “the most predictive of student success is creating

positive interpersonal relationships” (p. 154). With such value of student-teacher relationships

in helping students learn well, it appears that the bridge that crosses both learner-centered

teaching and teacher-centered instruction is the relationships built on academic care. With this,

teachers can critically reflect on the quality of relationship they extend to their students,

especially within the context of Philippine education where caring student-teacher relationships

appear to be placed at the convenience of the teacher or put as the least priority in the long list of

a teacher’s ‘professional duties’ in helping students learn well. It is important for teachers,

especially in the Philippines to recognise this value of caring relationships, particularly those

which are fostered by making time to listen to students’ ‘expressed needs’, aspirations and

priorities while in school (Noddings, 1992; 2012). This is because these caring relationships could

allow for a reframing of the understanding of good teaching in the Philippines—that effective

pedagogy is not limited to learner-centered instructional strategies as prescribed in the national

reform, but a diverse range of teacher practices which seek to truly respond to learner’s

‘expressed needs’ and aspirations as a person within communit(ies).

Directions for future research

Given the centrality of caring student-teacher relationships in the perceptions of good teaching

in this study, there is critical need for a further exploration of the contribution of caring student-

teacher relationships in student learning. In the context of Philippine education, the value of

relational care appears often overlooked, if not, indirectly dismissed within the discourse of good

and effective teaching. For instance, Filipino students’ view towards their teachers’ acts of

relational care appear omitted in studies of what is considered as a ‘classroom pedagogy’. The

focus among current studies on good and effective teaching in the Philippines is on prescribed

learner-centered instructional methods, placing caring student-teacher relationships beyond the

scope of what is regarded as ‘actual’ teaching. Therefore, it becomes critical to examine the

contribution of student-teacher relationships in student learning and retention in schools from

the perspective of the students themselves. Future research on Filipino student perceptions of

good teaching could explore student-teacher relationships by asking What relationships are

desired by students in a particular cultural and geographic context? What quality of student-teacher

relationships are these students most comfortable with at this stage in their development? In what

206

ways do these relationships support students’ priorities, persistence and performance in school and

in their aspirations in life? Within these student-teacher relationships, what are the expected roles

of the teacher and the student? As the teacher assumes such roles, which of the teacher’s practices

do students recognise as forms of ‘academic care’?

As the ethnographic data in this study illuminated the way in which student-teacher

relationships that are built on the Filipino valuing of ‘malasakit’ (a deep sense of personal and

compassionate care) becomes central to what is perceived as good teaching, future research can

further explore how student-teacher relationships and forms of academic care are fostered in

various cultural contexts in support of student learning and academic success. To achieve this,

future studies on pedagogy, especially in the Philippines, would have to seriously consider

adopting more qualitative and ethnography research approaches to examine with increasing

clarity and depth how perceptions of good teaching are shaped by the local ways of fostering

student-teacher relationships within specific cultural places. Ethnography, a research approach

which Hamilton (1999) observes as ‘used less frequently among education researchers than it

should be’, has the potential in providing a deeper understanding of effective teaching —how it

is changing; how it is practised across neighbourhoods and communities; how we do it; and

perhaps, most importantly of all, ‘what it is for’ (Hamilton, 1999, p. 431). When employed in

education settings, ethnography as a research approach, can shed a light into how local ways of

teaching, learning, and particularly student-teacher relationships can shape the conceptions of

good teaching within cultural places.

Final thoughts and reflections

The lessons from this study are at least twofold. First, in seeking to contribute to the field of

pedagogy, this ethnographic study has produced knowledge that allows for rethinking of

presumed binary between learner-centered and teacher-centered pedagogies, a notion which is

prevalent under the reform policy context of Philippine education. Such rethinking pushes the

boundaries of what learning should look like, how learning and teaching should be, according to

whom, and whose standards. These epistemological questions tend to trouble the dichotomy

between learner-centered and teacher-centered pedagogies and challenge notions that limit

‘good teaching’ to learner-centered instructional practices. In this study, what constitutes as good

teaching among the students and teachers is that develops the students’ academic knowledge,

values formation, character building, and (pro)social skills. Learning these are believed to be

facilitated effectively through teacher-centered pedagogies. It is a finding that others may be

uncomfortable with, especially those who strongly believe in ‘student-centered’ forms of teaching

207

as the pedagogy of possibilities and change. However, it is very important for me to also point out

that in this study, the teaching practices perceived as good are not only those teacher-centered

instructional strategies but also those student-teacher relationships built on academic care. The

enactment of academic care among teachers in this study, as I maintain, resemble a learner-

centered practice. This demonstrates that the perceptions of good teaching in this study could not

be confined to one end of a spectrum (learner-centered) or the other (teacher-centered) but lies

within a whole range of teacher practices (and not just instructional strategies), moving back and

forth in a continuum to respond to and uphold what is valued as local ways of teaching and

learning. These local ways include how teachers are respected in a cultural place; how relationships

are built and fostered; what the local community believes to be the key contribution of schooling;

and most importantly, how students are recognised as learners within a cultural and economic

place.

While there appears a general acceptance in current literature that culture is a pervasive

shaper of the implementation of learner-centered education in various contexts, it is critical

however that very specific and local ways of teaching, learning, and relationships be further

examined as these cultural nuances can provide understanding on how they can inhibit or

facilitate the practice of certain pedagogies in the classroom. Culture and not only mere economic

poverty, as I found through this study can either obstruct or reinforce the use of learner-centered

pedagogies in the two Philippine schools in this study. By ‘mere’ however, I do not mean to belittle

nor to downplay the serious impact of poverty as a real obstacle in how learner-centered

pedagogies are practised in the two disadvantaged schools in this study. Instead, I seek to direct

one’s attention to the equally serious yet often overlooked cultural nuances that are at play

beneath the problematic implementation of learner-centered education in some cultural

contexts. This lifts the discourse of pedagogy from the existing dichotomies between teacher-

centered and learner-centered into a conceptual reframing of good teaching under a cultural

perspective.

In taking a cultural lens, this ethnographic study has shown how inextricable teaching and

culture are; that is, how a teaching method is practised is a reflection of the culture in which this

teaching is situated. More importantly, the cultural lens in this study has allowed for a reframing

of the term ‘learner’ within the learner-centered teaching framework. This presents as both the

second lesson and a contribution of this study to the body of knowledge in teaching and pedagogy.

Hence, this study calls for a reconceptualization of the term ‘learner’ (under the learner-centered

teaching framework) is not just a student but a person who plays varied and dynamic roles in a

community within communities—the concentric circles of her family, the classroom, the school,

208

the neighbourhood, and the immediate local community—each has a distinct set of roles and

expectations for this student to embody. Thus, in a learner-centered framework of teaching, the

learner must be fully understood as a person in, with, and for the communit(ies).

With a broader understanding of who the learner is and where she positions herself within

the concentric circles of her communities comes a deeper appreciation of the centrality of student-

teacher relationships in good teaching, particularly those which are built on academic care that

support the learner ‘expressed needs, priorities, and aspirations’ as she assumes her roles within

her communities. This academic care, a manifestation of Filipino cultural valuing of ‘malasakit’ (a

deep sense of personal and compassionate care) and ‘pakikisama’ (maintaining smooth

interpersonal relationships within a community) provides an important orientation towards

understanding how learner-centered approaches could be articulated for the Filipino context.

While the K to 12 reform policy in the Philippines has strong directives to use prescribed

instructional strategies for the country’s education to be ‘truly learner-centered’, this study has

raised a notable finding that academic caring fostered through student-teacher relationships

could offer a practice which bridges the presumed binary between learner-centered and teacher-

centered pedagogies in the Philippines.

209

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APPENDIX A: Pre-observation Interview Protocol for teachers

I. Rapport Building

1. Tell me about your experiences as a teacher. Refer to the attached, Demographic Data Sheet for teacher participants.

a. How long have you worked in your current position? b. What are your current job responsibilities (Grade level and subjects)? c. In today’s interview we will talk a little about teaching and learning. Does that sound

okay?

II. Instruction

1. As I look around your classroom, I am wondering how you decide on the physical arrangement? Student desks? Teacher’s desk?

2. Please tell me about your lesson this coming week. 3. How long do you prepare for your lessons especially for the class activities?

III. Developing Cognitive and Social Skills through Pedagogy

1. How would you describe your classroom climate in section X? 2. What role do you think relationships among students play in your teaching process? 3. How would you characterize your relationship with your students in section X? 4. If a new student were coming to your class, how would your students describe you to that

new student? 5. When do you use techniques like group work and cooperative activities in your teaching?

What for? IV. Discipline/Motivation

1. Tell me about the expectations that you have for classroom behavior? How do you communicate those expectations to your students?

2. How do you respond when they don’t meet those expectations? Do you have specific consequences?

3. How do you respond when they meet those expectations? 4. How do you most typically handle discipline problems in your classroom? 5. What do you do to motivate your students to participate in class?

V. Closing Question

1. What advice would you give to a new teacher about teaching? 2. If you could recommend to a new teacher some teaching practices and strategies that are

effective in sustaining student motivation and engagement, what would they be? Modified from Garrett, T. (2008). Student-Centered and Teacher-Centered Classroom Management: A Case Study of Three Elementary Teachers. Journal of Classroom Interaction, 43(1), 34-47.

225

DEMOGRAPHIC DATA SHEET OF THE TEACHER PARTICIPANTS

(attachment to the pre-observation interview protocol for teachers)

The researcher will be careful to keep your answers to this checklist confidential.

Report of findings will not use names of participants or schools.

NAME OF TEACHER: ________________________________

1. Educational Background a. What is your Bachelor’s Degree? ________________________________ b. What is your major/field of Specialization? _________________________

2. Teaching Career

a. How many total of years have you taught? _____ years b. How many years have you taught in your current school? _____ years c. What grade level (or levels, if applicable) are you currently teaching and what subjects do

you teach? Grade level ____ Subject _____________ Grade level ____ Subject _____________ Grade level ____ Subject _____________ Grade level ____ Subject _____________ Grade level ____ Subject _____________ Grade level ____ Subject _____________

d. What other grade or year levels have you taught in the past (if applicable)?

❑ Pre-school

❑ Grade school

❑ Junior High School

❑ Senior High School

❑ Undergraduate

❑ Technical Vocational

e. What subjects have you taught in the past? _________________________ __________________________ _________________________ __________________________ _________________________ __________________________

3. Current Teaching Position

a. How many classes do you teach in a day? _____ classes

b. What is the largest number of pupils do you have in a classroom? ____ pupils

Thank you!

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APPENDIX B: Post-observation Interview Protocol for teachers

Introduction: Well, now that we have finished our initial interview and the three-week classroom observations, the last thing I would like to do is a final interview. I would like to ask you some more questions about your instructional and managerial approach. Does that sound okay? Questions: 1. Throughout the observations, I observed that you included various instructional strategies and

techniques. For example, I saw you use (insert the observed different teaching practices of the teacher). Please explain to me why you used those strategies? How do you decide which instructional techniques to use?

2. Throughout the observations, I also saw you use a variety of classroom management techniques/strategies. For example, I saw you use (again, insert the management practices used. For example – proximity, explicitly stating a student’s name, conferencing out in the hallway, and other small details of classroom management). Please explain to me how you decide which management strategy to use in a particular situation?

3. What unique instructional practices or strategies do you employ in section X? 4. If you were asked to classify your instructional approach, would it be under learner-centered or teacher-

centered? What do you feel are some of the constraints that prevent you from using more learner-centered instructional techniques? What are some of the circumstances/things that facilitate your desire to use learner-centered techniques? (Prompts if needed because they don’t seem to understand the question – other faculty, administration, particular classes, particular subjects)

5. There appears to be a push to implement more learner-centered classroom practices, as mandated by our Department of Education. We already talked about your feelings about learner-centered and teacher-centered instruction.

a. What is learner-centered teaching for you? What is teacher-centered teaching for you? b. What do you think are the pros and cons of learner-centered classroom practices? What

about the pros and cons of more teacher-centered classroom practices strategies?

6. What do you think might be the reasons some teachers don’t use learner-centered classroom practices? Can you think of anything that facilitates your use of learner-centered classroom practices? What about any things or circumstances that prevent you from using learner-centered classroom instruction?

7. Well, we talked about your instructional approach and your classroom management approach. You seemed to articulate your beliefs about both instruction and management and what strategies you find effective and why. I am curious if you think it will work if you are both teacher-centered and learner-centered in your instruction. Please tell me your thoughts about this.

a. Which part of your instruction will you use learner-centered or teacher-centered instruction? Why?

b. So, as you adopt more learner-centered practices, how might your teaching look different?

8. Given a chance, would you opt to teach in a rural (if city school teacher) / city (if rural school teacher? Why? Do you think your instructional practices will change had you been assigned to a rural/city school? Why?

Modified from Garrett, T. (2008). Student-Centered and Teacher-Centered Classroom Management: A Case Study of Three Elementary Teachers. Journal of Classroom Interaction, 43(1), 34-47.

227

APPENDIX C: Focus group interview protocol

(Activity-based questions)

You may have noticed that I come to your class everyday for observation. Now, I would like to ask you

some questions about your classroom experiences with your teacher. We are going to have this chat

for approximately an hour and a half and I would be glad if you can share your thoughts freely. I will

be asking you questions but we will do this in a fun way. We will be having 5 activities as we go along.

Does that sound okay?

Activity 1 “OBRA-MAESTRA AN MAESTRA KO” (My teacher is a work of art): An installation art activity

Objectives:

• To build rapport among student participants and the researcher

• To provide opportunity for introductions

• To get a general idea of the students’ perceptions of a good ‘maestra’ (teacher)

Materials Needed:

• Personal school stuff of students

• Any object in the classroom or in the surroundings

Time Allotment: 15 minutes

Activity Mechanics:

1. Student participants will be asked to bring out three most important things they have in their

bag or in the classroom.

2. Each student will be given a minute to introduce her/himself to the group and explain why

those three things are important to him/her.

3. Then, the researcher will tell the students to gather all their things on the floor. This will

prepare them for the installation art activity. Students will be asked to come up with a mini-

statue of their “ideal teacher” using their stuff as construction materials.

4. The researcher will ask the students to explain their “mini statue art work” in relation to their

conception of an “ideal teacher”.

Guide Questions/Discussion Points:

• What is your ‘ideal’ teacher like?

• What does an ideal teacher look like?

• What does an ideal teacher do?

228

Activity 2 TOLONG TATARAMON (Three words)

Objectives:

• To get individual descriptions from each student of what a ‘good teacher’ does in the

classroom

• To capture a student’s view of the characteristics and practices of the teacher she or he finds

most helpful in her or his learning

Materials Needed:

• Markers

• Metacards (colorful strips of paper)

Time Allotment: 20 minutes

Activity Mechanics:

1. The students will be asked to think about the teachers in their class whom they perceived as

‘good’.

2. Then, they will be asked to come up with three adjectives (or verb) that best describe that

teacher or what that teacher does in class that helps them learn well.

3. As soon as they thought of their ‘good teachers’, they will be asked to write on the metacards

provided. The students are encouraged to write in their dialect. They are reminded to write

one word per metacard.

4. Each student will be asked to share what they wrote in their metacards. They are to explain

why they chose those three words.

Guide Questions/Discussion Points:

• Think about the teacher whom they find ‘good’, the teacher whom you think is most helpful

in learning well in school. You do not have to say or write her/his name. Now, I want you to

describe your best teacher in three (or more) words, using adjectives (her or his

characteristics) or verbs (what she or he does in class).

• I would appreciate if you can explain why you chose those words you wrote in your metacards.

These questions may help you organize your thoughts:

o What do you like most about this teacher?

o What do you learn from her/him?

o What does this teacher do to make you to listen, participate, or even simply come and

attend her/his class?

o What is so unique about this teacher?

o Does this teacher embody or represent your concept of an ideal teacher you all shared

earlier? How so?

229

Activity 3 RANGO! (Rank!)

Objectives:

• To obtain a collective conception of the characteristics and practices of the teacher who is

perceived as the most helpful in students’ learning

• To obtain comparisons on the students’ conceptions of the ‘good’ teachers in their class

• To find out the top-ranked characteristics and practices of their teachers that help them learn

well in school

Materials Needed:

• the filled-out metacards from the previous activity, Tolong Tataramon (Three Words)

• A spread of manila paper

• A roll of sello tape

• Black board or wall to post the manila paper on

Time Allotment: 25 minutes

Activity Mechanics:

1. The students will be asked to place all their filled out metacards from the previous activity on

the floor.

2. They will be requested to discuss among themselves which of those metacards capture the

most important characteristic and/or practice of their “good teacher”.

3. They will be asked to rank the metacards from the most important characteristic and/or

teaching practice to the least.

4. As soon as they have decided, they will be asked to stick the metacards on the spread of

manila paper, which will be posted on the wall.

5. They will be asked to comment on their final “ranking”.

Guide Questions/Discussion Points:

• How did you find the ranking? Was it easy or difficult? Why so?

• Let us focus our attention to your ranking. Why is (the characteristic or practice) the most

important to your group? Why did you place this characteristic at the bottom?

• Before we end our focus groups, do you want to make some changes in your rankings? (If they

do, ask them to explain the changes)

230

APPENDIX D: Plain Language Statement for teachers

Dear Teacher, Kumusta po! My name is Julie Lucille H. del Valle. I am a student at The University of Melbourne in Australia. I am doing a project to find out what high school public teachers do to encourage students to try hard and learn well at school. This will involve me asking teachers and students about what they think about effective and good teaching. This research will be helpful in training the next generation of high school teachers. When I finish my project it will be part of my degree in doctor of Philosophy. It will help me to improve my knowledge and skills as an academic who teaches teachers. My research supervisors, Prof. Helen Cahill and Dr. Daniela Acquaro, help me with my project. They are both teaching in the Graduate School of Education at The University of Melbourne, Australia where I am doing my studies before returning to work in the Philippines. The Division schools superintendent and the school principal have given me permission to send this letter to tell you a bit about my project. Once you have read this letter, you can decide if you will agree to be part of this project. Should you agree to participate, you would be asked to contribute to this in two ways:

1. I would like to observe your class for three weeks. I would be sitting at the back of the room so I can get a more

detailed picture of what you do to help students learn; and

2. Lastly, I would request to have two interview sessions with you. The first interview will be conducted before the start of classroom observation period. I will ask about your background as a high school teacher. The second interview will be during the second week of observation so I can ask you about your thoughts about the teaching practices you used during the observation period. Each of interviews will be around 30 to 60 minutes, and arranged at a time to suit you.

With your permission, I will audio-tape the interview so I can listen many times to what you have said, and make notes and

quotations of your words. Only my supervisors and I will listen to the tapes so please don’t worry that the school principal

or your colleagues might listen at them. Your name and contact details will be kept in a password-protected computer file

from any data that you supply. In the final report, you will be referred to by a pseudonym. I will remove any references to

personal information that might allow someone to guess your identity; however, you should note that as there will only be

two schools in my study, it is possible that someone may still be able to identify you. However, please be assured that I

intend to protect your anonymity and the confidentiality of your responses to the fullest possible extent.

Once the dissertation arising from this research has been completed, a brief summary of the findings will be available at The University of Melbourne Graduate School of Education (MGSE) and at the Ateneo de Naga University. It is also possible that the results will be presented at academic conferences. When this project is finished, I will lock all the audio recordings away safely in The University of Melbourne for five years. I have to do this because it is a rule in my university. After that my supervisor will safely dispose of them. Please be advised that your participation in this study is completely voluntary. Should you wish to withdraw at any stage,

or to withdraw any unprocessed data you have supplied, you are free to do so.

If you would like to participate, please indicate that you have read and understood this information by signing the attached

consent form and returning it in the envelope provided. Should you require any further information, or have any concerns,

please feel free to contact any of the persons below. Should you have any concerns about the conduct of the project, you

are welcome to contact the Manager, Human Research Ethics, The University of Melbourne, on ph: +61 3 83442073 or you

can send an email through this email address: HumanEthics-enquiries@unimelb.edu.au. Thank you.

Sincerely, Julie Lucille H. del Valle Professor Helen Cahill Dr. Daniela Acquaro PhD student Primary Supervisor Secondary Supervisor

jlhdelvalle@gmail.com h.cahill@unimelb.edu.au d.acquaro@unimelb.edu.au

231

APPENDIX E: Consent forms for teachers

MELBOURNE GRADUATE SCHOOL OF EDUCATION

BRIDGING BINARIES:

An ethnographic enquiry into student and teacher perceptions of good teaching beyond the presumed dichotomy between ‘teacher-centred and learner-centred’ pedagogies under the K to 12 reform in the

Philippines

Julie Lucille H. del Valle PhD Student Researcher

Prof. Helen Cahill Dr. Daniela Acquaro Primary Supervisor Secondary Supervisor

Name of Participant: ____________________________________________________________

1. I consent to participate in this project, the details of which have been explained to me, and I

have been provided with a written plain language statement to keep.

2. I understand that after I sign and return this consent form it will be kept by the researcher.

3. I understand that my participation will involve classroom observation and interviews and I agree that the researcher may use the results as described in the plain language statement.

4. I acknowledge that:

a. the possible effects of participating in the classroom observation and interviews have been explained to my satisfaction;

b. I have been informed that I am free to withdraw from the project at any time without explanation or prejudice and to withdraw any unprocessed data I have provided;

c. the project is for the purpose of research;

d. I have been informed that the confidentiality of the information I provide will be

safeguarded subject to any legal requirements;

e. I have been informed that with my consent the interview will be audio-taped and I understand that the interview audio-tapes will be stored at The University of Melbourne and will be destroyed after five years; and

f. my name will be referred to by a pseudonym in any publications arising from the research.

I consent to this interview being tape-recorded □ yes □ no (please tick)

Teachers’s signature: ___________________________________ Date: ___________________

232

APPENDIX F: Plain Language Statement for students

Dear Student, Kumusta! My name is Julie Lucille H. del Valle. I am a student at The University of Melbourne in Australia. I am doing a project to find out what high school students like you think are the most helpful things your teachers do that encourage you to try hard and learn well at school. When I finish my project it will be part of my degree, called doctor of Philosophy. My teachers, Prof. Helen Cahill and Dr. Daniela Acquaro, help me with my project. They are called my “supervisors”. They are both teaching in the Graduate School of Education at The University of Melbourne. Your school principal and your teachers have given me permission to send this letter to tell you a bit about my project. Once you have read this letter, you can decide if you would like to be part of my project. You should also talk to your parents about this project. This research project requires me to observe your classes daily for three weeks. I would be sitting at the back of the room so I can get a more detailed picture of what your teachers do to help you learn. If you want to be part of the project, I would like to have an interview with you. You will be joined by five of your classmates from your class during the interview. This is called a focus group interview. It is just like having a chat with me and with your classmates in a small group. We will have the group interview in your classroom during class hours. The group interview will last for an hour. You will join with the permission of your teacher and arrangements will be made to make sure that you are not disadvantaged by missing class for this hour. We will also have some simple written activities where you will be asked to describe what a good teacher is like. I will be there to explain about the questions and collect some activity sheets with your answers on them. If it is okay with you and your classmates in the focus group, I would like to have our group interviews be tape-recorded. This is so I can listen many times to what you and your classmates are saying, and make notes and quotations of your words. If you want to stop doing the group interview at any time, you can tell me and can go back to class any time you like. You do not have to answer the questions during the group interview if you do not want to. Only my supervisors and I will listen to the tapes, and see your written answers so please don’t worry that your teacher might look at them. The project will have nothing to do with your school report card or grade in any of the subjects in your class. You don’t even have to write your name on any of the activity sheets, no one will be able to tell which answers are yours. I will not tell your teachers about what you and your classmates say during our interview. When this project is finished, I will lock all your activity sheets together with the audio recordings away safely in The University of Melbourne for five years. I have to do this because it is a rule in my university. After that my supervisor will safely dispose of them. Remember, you don’t have to join unless you want to. If you have any questions you should talk to your teacher or your parent. If they don’t know the answer to your question, they can contact me, or my supervisors, or the Research Ethics Offices at the University for you, through the Manager, Human Research Ethics, The University of Melbourne, on ph: +61 3 83442073 or you can send an email through HumanEthics-enquiries@unimelb.edu.au. If you want to join in the project, and your parents agree, please sign your name on the next page where it says “student”, and get your parent or guardian sign as well. Thank you. Sincerely, Julie Lucille H. del Valle Prof. Helen Cahill Dr. Daniela Acquaro PhD student Primary Supervisor Secondary Supervisor

jlhdelvalle@gmail.com h.cahill@unimelb.edu.au d.acquaro@unimelb.edu.au

233

APPENDIX G: Consent forms for students

MELBOURNE GRADUATE SCHOOL OF EDUCATION

BRIDGING BINARIES:

An ethnographic enquiry into student and teacher perceptions of good teaching beyond the presumed dichotomy between ‘teacher-centred and learner-centred’ pedagogies under the K to 12 reform in the

Philippines

Julie Lucille H. del Valle PhD Student Researcher

Prof. Helen Cahill Dr. Daniela Acquaro Primary Supervisor Secondary Supervisor

Name of Student Participant: _________________________________________________________

1. I want to participate in this project, the researcher explained clearly what the project is and I

have a written plain language letter from the researcher to keep.

2. I understand that after I sign and return this consent form it will be kept by the researcher.

3. I understand that my participation will involve focus group interviews with my other classmates and I agree that the researcher may use the results as described in the letter.

4. I have been informed that:

a. this project is for a purpose of research;

b. I will be interviewed together with some of my classmates during the group interview;

c. I am not required to participate in the focus group interview;

d. it is okay if I wish to go back to class while we are having the group interview and the researcher will not question me about it;

e. my teachers will not be able to look at my answers from the group interview and that no

one will be able to tell which answers are mine; and

f. my answers to the questions will be tape-recorded and the audio-tapes will be stored at the University of Melbourne and will be disposed safely after five years.

Can I record your answers in a tape recorder?

Please circle Student’s signature: _________________________________ Date: _________________

234

APPENDIX H: Plain Language Statement for parents on behalf of students

Dear Parents or Guardians, Kumusta po! My name is Julie Lucille H. del Valle. I am a student at The University of Melbourne in Australia. I am doing a project to find out what high school public teachers do to encourage students to try hard and learn well at school. This will involve me asking teachers and students about what they think about effective and good teaching. This research will be helpful in training the next generation of high school teachers. This research project requires me to observe classes daily for three weeks. I would be sitting at the back of the room so I can get a more detailed picture of what teachers do to help students learn. When I finish my project it will be part of my degree in Doctor of Philosophy. It will help me to improve my knowledge and skills as an academic who teaches teachers. My research supervisors, Professor Helen Cahill and Dr. Daniela Acquaro, help me with my project. They are both teaching in the Graduate School of Education at The University of Melbourne, Australia where I am doing my studies before returning to work in the Philippines. The school principal and your child’s teachers have given me permission to send this letter to tell you a bit about my project. Once you have read this letter, you can decide if you will agree to your child being part of my project. If you agree to your child being part of the project, I will interview him or her. He or she will be joined by five of his or her classmates from their class during the interview. It will be a group interview. It is just like having a chat with me and his or her classmates in a small group. We will have the group interview in your classroom during class hours. The group interview will last for around an hour. The students will join with the permission of their teacher and arrangements will be made to make sure that they are not disadvantaged by missing class for this hour. I will ask questions about what the students think teachers can do to help everyone in their classes to learn well. I will ask about what encourages them to try when things are hard, and what helps them to get interested in new topics. As well as joining in discussion and answering questions, your child will do some short written tasks in which they describe what a good teacher is like. I will audio-tape the discussions so I can listen many times to what the students have said, and make notes and quotations of their words. If your child wants to stop doing the group interview at any time, they can tell me and can go back to class. Your child does not have to answer the questions during the group interview if they do not want to. Only my supervisors and I will listen to the tapes, and see your child’s written answers, so please don’t worry that his or her teacher might look at them. The project will have nothing to do with his or her school report card or grade in any of the subjects in his or her class. Your child doesn’t even have to write his or her name on any of the activity sheets, no one will be able to tell which answers are his or hers. When this project is finished, I will lock all the activity sheets together with the audio recordings away safely in The University of Melbourne for five years. I have to do this because it is a rule in my university. After that my supervisor will safely dispose of them. Please remember, your child doesn’t have to join unless he or she wants to. If you have any questions you can contact your child’s class teacher or me through (+63) 910 610 56 88 or the Manager, Human Research Ethics, The University of Melbourne, on ph: +61 3 83442073 or you can send an email through HumanEthics-enquiries@unimelb.edu.au. If you agree that your child join in the project, please sign your name on the consent form. Thank you. Sincerely, Julie Lucille H. del Valle Prof. Helen Cahill Dr. Daniela Acquaro PhD student Primary Supervisor Secondary Supervisor

jlhdelvalle@gmail.com h.cahill@unimelb.edu.au d.acquaro@unimelb.edu.au

235

APPENDIX I: Consent forms for parents on behalf of students

MELBOURNE GRADUATE SCHOOL OF EDUCATION

BRIDGING BINARIES:

An ethnographic enquiry into student and teacher perceptions of good teaching beyond the presumed dichotomy between ‘teacher-centred and learner-centred’ pedagogies under the K to 12 reform in the

Philippines

Julie Lucille H. del Valle PhD Student Researcher

Prof. Helen Cahill Dr. Daniela Acquaro Primary Supervisor Secondary Supervisor

Name of Child: ____________________________________________________________

1. I permit my son/daughter to participate in this project, the researcher explained clearly what

the project is and I have a written plain language letter from the researcher to keep.

2. I understand that after I sign and return this consent form it will be kept by the researcher.

3. I understand that the participation of my son/daughter will involve focus group interviews with his/her other classmates and I agree that the researcher may use the results as described in the letter.

4. I have been informed that:

a. the project is for the purpose of research;

b. my son/daughter will be interviewed together with some of his/her classmates during the group interview;

c. my son/daughter is not required to participate in the focus group interview;

d. it is okay if my son/daughter wishes to go back to class while having the group interview and the researcher will not question him or her about it;

e. the teachers of my son/daughter will not be able to look at his/her answers from the

group interview; and

f. the answers of my son/daughter to the questions will be tape-recorded; the audio-tapes will be stored at the University of Melbourne and will be disposed safely after five years.

Can I tape-record the answers of your child during the group interviews? YES NO Please circle Parent/Guardian’s signature: _________________________________

Minerva Access is the Institutional Repository of The University of Melbourne

Author/s:

del Valle, Julie Lucille H.

Title:

Bridging binaries: an ethnographic enquiry into student and teacher perceptions of good

teaching beyond the presumed dichotomy between ‘teacher-centred and learner-centred’

pedagogies under the K to 12 reform in the Philippines

Date:

2019

Persistent Link:

http://hdl.handle.net/11343/225624

File Description:

Complete PhD Thesis Title is BRIDGING BINARIES: An ethnographic enquiry into student

and teacher perceptions of good teaching beyond the presumed dichotomy between

‘teacher-centred and learner-centred’ pedagogies under the K to 12 reform in the Philippines

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