Connections

Connections And Their Absences In The Classrooms

Moving the focus into the classroom, the relationship of teachers with students might be assumed to be the most influential one because the teachers are responsible for establishing the relationship, but as with all social activities, classrooms require social cooperation to function (Lemke, 1993), thus teachers and students create the relationship together. The teacher involved in the pilot study said he struggled because what he viewed as giving students important freedoms was viewed by the students as a weakness on his part. Lemke emphasized the need for “a common sense of the structure of the activity” (p. 4), and it was this shared sense that is frequently missing between teacher and students. The responsibility for creating a common culture in which all class members have an implicit knowledge of activity structures falls to the teacher, but too often teachers are not sufficiently conscious of the structure or the fact that it is not apparent to students. Nevertheless, teachers—consciously and unconsciously—use material environments to support or create this structure. As in the case of Urban High and to some degree Boarding High, the teachers themselves may lack a sufficient understanding of the activity structure.

One basic activity structure for classrooms is the question and answer format, elaborated upon by Lemke—with an evaluation added—in the Triadic Dialog (1993, p. 8). This involves a teacher question, a student answer, and a teacher evaluation with a number of optional but secondary acts before, after, and between. The key is that “in [the Triadic Dialogue] teachers get to initiate exchanges, set the topic, and control the direction in which the topic develops. They get to decide which students will answer which questions and to say which answers are correct” (p. 11). This traditional teaching method maintains strict power relations—there is a questioner and an answerer—though expressions of solidarity could vary widely. These relations are supported in traditional classroom arrangements where all students face the instructor and only the instructor has freedome of movement. The project-based inquiry frequently promoted with video production stands in sharp contrast, being student directed and, when it is at its best, student evaluated. More supportive classrooms are typically arranged so that students sit in small groups without reference to the teacher's desk. Traditional arrangements are obstacles to project-based activity. These structures are just two potential activity structures.

At Boarding High, there were almost no uses of the Triadic Dialogue during the video production program. It was noted only during the introductions to the program and in the graduate student’s efforts to discuss the projects at the end of the third course. These discussions did not go well, being met with uncomfortable silences. Whether the difficulty in generating answers was due to a quiet resistance to such power laden exchanges or were due to an unfamiliarity with the structure was a question I frequently pondered. In general, students were observed to be rather quiet, initiating few exchanges with the teacher. When I presented my research project to the students, the usual indications of either attention or boredom with which I am accustomed were absent. It was not that the lack of response was totally unlike the other two schools, but the degree of non-responsiveness was extreme. The interns and I spoke briefly about it.

In the third course, students were the most vocal I had seen: The class was very large, so the teacher had hand picked students to participate, totaling only half the class, and the interns had participated much more intimately in creating the projects. I also noted, particularly among some of the girls, affect such as giggling that I was more familiar with. The interns, however, still found it difficult to communicate with students. Based on this, I would tentatively suggest the difference in this school was due to the students’ culture or, in other words, their lack of familiarity with the Triadic Dialogue and similar classroom structures. It is in the analysis of student videotapes that a dramatic difference in the way students act with authorities and peers becomes visible that may more fully explain the silences during adult-led discussions.

The interns for the most part did not come in as “teachers;” they had almost no preparation and were not given specific instructions. This was most telling in the second course when the interns were entirely on their own: They gave no introduction to the program and after ample hesitation chose to show some of their own video art work as an explanation of what they were hoping students to do. In the third course, the interns were much more involved and offered many more directions. The directions, however, were typically offered as suggestions or explanations of the technology. When I witnessed a question, it was used more to prompt activity rather than to engage in “education.” This set of interns expressed more power and more solidarity with students.

At Suburban High, the class was usually very teacher directed, and expressions of power and solidarity were normal. Particularly in the beginning, the teacher said he sought to convince students that Television Production was a serious class, requiring actual work. The teacher used a distinct and consistent activity structure that was only set aside entirely when students were practicing the uses of equipment or working on projects. The school year started off with a daily use of the structure, and increasing amounts of time was spent on projects as the year progressed. A typical day in the beginning had students reading three or four pages from text books that never left the room. Students were instructed to write something they had learned in their journals. The next phase was a derivative of the Triadic Dialogue without the question. The students read what they had written and received acknowledgment from the teacher, ranging from elaboration to an indication for the next person to speak. Then a lecture and/or media presentation would follow that elaborated on what had been read. Some form of the Triadic Dialogue was common during these. Reports about video journal articles were presented monthly.

The first student-directed activity was to practice eight camera movements: pan (turning the camera), tilt, truck (moving sideways with the camera straight), dolly (moving forward or backward), pedestal (rising up or lowering down without shifting the camera’s direction), a high (above the head) mount (camera hold), a low (at waist level) mount, and an “other” mount such as leaning against something to steady the camera. When students were ready, they demonstrated and were graded on each. The teacher stressed that this was in part for the protection of his cameras, which will be discussed further in the next section. The entire first semester proceeded with these types of activities as students learned different camera techniques, lighting, and in the second semester audio. Editing was introduced at the end of the first semester, and the first of two independent student projects was done in the beginning of the second semester, initially being planned as the midterm examination. In all student-directed activities, the teacher was available but did not initiate involvement with few exceptions.

Students were responsive, the extent and manner of response becoming increasingly differentiated as the year progressed. The loss of some students and addition of others at the semester break was noticeable, but the teacher addressed the shift simply by suggesting that new students work with old students. The exchanges between students and the teacher was generally positive. Issues such as a student falling asleep in class were addressed simply by waking the student. Solidarity between teacher and students was strongest in the advanced class. Even when the teacher became angry, such as after a camera was stolen or students acted in ways that were risky to themselves or the equipment, there was no expression of hostility from students.

Students never actively expressed a dislike or problem with the teacher in my hearing. It did become clear, however, that the teacher joked and spoke casually with some students more than others, mostly due to his familiarity with students. For instance, a few advanced students were in each of the beginning classes in the official role as teacher assistant (TA), and the girl who was the executive producer of the news show, who was also a TA in one class, frequently spoke casually and joked with the teacher. In the same class, a girl got the lead in the school play and received many remarks from the teacher about this and other issues, such as remarking on how photogenic she was. Frequently the kind of relationship the teacher had with students was initiated by students, however. One boy, who intended to continue in the advanced class and pursue an audio position on the news program, would hang around the teacher’s desk when there was the freedom to do so. A difference, however, in the level of participation in the social life of the classroom emerged that reflected student ethnicity. In these ways, the teacher displayed greater solidarity with some students than others, which in turn promoted different levels of participation.

At Urban High, each of the three courses I observed had unique structures with uneven expressions of power but a consistent lack of solidarity (expressed in two ways). Media 1 was my focal class, and I was initially pleased to see that the teacher was using a project-based approach, which as already described necessitates less power differentiation than many other structures. He assigned three projects across the semester, and students were also to create personal webpages, but I did not closely observe these efforts. The teacher presented activities using the chalkboard, an oral description, and sometimes a handout of what he expected. It was in these moments that his power as instructor was most heavily emphasized. He stressed the planning stages, getting the frustrated response from one student, “More scripts!” Throughout, the teacher expressed high solidarity but was frequently ignored by students. And when the students were expected to work, amazingly little activity occurred.

Day after day, I watched uncomfortably as students did nothing in relation to their assignments. I attempted to ask students about what they were doing—one group said they were going to do a skateboarding video as they played with a toy skateboard—but they seemed reluctant to speak with me. Generally, the only thing written on the papers in front of students was whatever the teacher had written on the board. A representative of the reform project said that one man, while documenting class work, could not take it and tried to teach when he was in the room. The teacher tried several times approaching tables and talking with students—kneeling beside the tables in the absence of extra chairs—but little changed, and most of the time he stayed busy with things he needed to do or with students working on the computers. By the end of the semester, a sense of urgency about completing assignments arose, and there was a flurry of activity, but most of the time, there was no observable activity. On their first project, things had been different because each group was handed a camera and let go into the hallways, but I missed that class, only seeing the tapes they created. Typically, it was with relief that I left the room to go to the Studio after an hour of observation.

Things were not very different in Media 2. Because the teacher/former newsman was absent the first three weeks, little was done, but upon his return, the class began “pitches,” during which students presented ideas. All three teachers had students do pitches at least once. The only media assignment in Media 2 was one fictional story: All students were to work on a script, whether they intended to produce it or not. Otherwise, students did “English.” Again, though, the emphasis in both advanced courses was on the planning stages, and a script and/or storyboard was required for access to equipment.

In Media 2, one and only one production was started. A student, who asked to be referred to as Spike (See Table B1), involved several students in his project. Somehow, he had convinced the teachers to let him begin recording even though he had not written out his ideas. When I interviewed him, he said that his purpose in doing the video was to convince the teachers that he could without a script, but production on all projects in advanced classes were halted after a prop gun in another class raised concerns. The Media 2 teacher explained to me that they had been too ambitious, thinking they could do stories; there is a “learning curve” for teachers also, he told me. The constraint introduced in stopping all productions, however, had a devastating effect on Spike’s participation, which will be discussed further in the next chapter.

The Media 3 teacher was the only teacher involved in video productions in the 2002-2003 school year. There was an apparent determination in his approach despite the fact that he frequently discussed the futility of it with me. He sought projects and ideas from the internet and was convinced—until he received them and tried using them—that textbooks were the solution. After my only observation of “pitches” in the class, he talked to me about its failures. I commented that I saw some potential in one student’s comments, but he believed that the student had simply been mimicking him. He changed his approach several times, finally settling into a pattern of having students read sections of the textbook and take open book quizzes and assigning small projects for groups of students to work on at their own pace.

The teaching philosophy of the Media 3 teacher was illustrated one day when he took me to a neighboring classroom that had the entire course on the computer: The computer took attendance, gave assignments, and evaluated students so that the instructor had only to troubleshoot. What was demonstrated in this and in his relations with his students was that project-based courses gave students the ability to work on their own—without a teacher; a teacher’s primary role was fulfilled in creating good assignments. He made uneven efforts to stimulate ideas with part of his class—promoting deeper consideration of assignments.

The Media 2 teacher, after productions were abandoned, found a way of working with students that he was comfortable with. Much of the remaining time was spent reading plays aloud and writing. His choice the following school year to continue with more standard teacher-led activities was consistent with his routine uses of power and a deemphasis on solidarity as he maintained a distancing formality. The Media 3 teacher was nearly the opposite. He was always friendly with students, deemphasizing his power as instructor when he could. He tended, however, to be formal in his discussions with students—to maintain some distance. He had still a typical stance toward students: He joked informally with them, creating moments of solidarity with some students, while he asserted his power as the teacher mostly in his grades.

The students at Urban High overwhelmingly had two basic ways of responding to teachers, regardless of the situation. They either joked or remained silent. Conversations between teachers and students were rare. The only conversations I was able to have with students, which involved having my questions briefly answered, were away from the classes—either on the phone or when we were alone. The teachers had each adopted different ways of relating with their students, and the atmosphere was extremely difficult. The veteran Media 3 teacher was able to maintain class discussion by joking with students—by laughing at their jokes with them—but he did not recognize the few successes or potential in these moments for promoting more meaningful discussions.

In their study of internet use, Schofield and Davidson found that “the increase in autonomy that frequently accompanied Internet use mitigated [the] source of friction between students and teachers and thus contributed directly to improving their relationships” (2003, p. 76). To some extent, this was reflected in the more successful exchanges the Media 1 teacher had with students when they were working on the internet, but a similar conclusion cannot be reached about work with video cameras and editing at any of the schools. Whereas I would have expected an improvement in relations, only at Boarding High—where the interns did not have a pre-existing relationship—did teachers routinely interact with students during recording or editing sessions. Teachers and students alike seemed to have difficulty integrating the independence of video production with their usual ways of relating in school. Only in the advanced class at Suburban High did the teacher participate in production, but everyone’s roles were clearly defined. This reflected what Berstein (1971) referred to as “positional roles” as opposed to more “personal roles,” which will be further discussed in Chapter 3.

The problems of integrating independent work into an educational setting is not unique to video production. Schofield and Davidson also found that:

Occasionally students reported frustration associated with [the] increased independence in circumstance[s] when they felt they did not get the support they needed from teachers. Further, we observed numerous instances in which students working autonomously on the Internet would clearly have benefited from a teacher's assistance either in solving a specific problem or in learning how to solve the general class of problem they faced. (2003, p. 77)

I regularly noticed instances when students could have used technical information and more generally the presence of a teacher, but the only assistance I witnessed at Urban High was calls for silence so students could record. Reilly (1998) reported that not only did the teacher he observed interact regularly with students during production, but that Reilly himself became instrumental in several productions. More importantly, I was able to witness the teacher from Reilly’s study reviewing some projects with a group of middle school students during a summer program. This teacher encouraged and shaped friendly critiques. These types of exchanges were missing from all three schools, except in work at Boarding High during the third course where they were limited.

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