Abstract
Retaining teachers in high-poverty schools is essential for ensuring students who live in poverty have equitable educational opportunities. Understanding novices’ experiences can help school leaders improve novices’ retention in high-poverty schools throughout their careers. This integrative review of studies investigates novices’ experiences teaching in high-poverty schools. We identified common themes in extant studies, as well as several important areas of research that are, to date, under-studied; most notably, more research is needed to explore differences in novices’ experiences of their working conditions in high- versus low-poverty schools, and the implications of those differences for teacher development and retention.
Students of color and students who live in poverty are disproportionately served by less experienced, less effective teachers than White students from affluent backgrounds (Mason-Williams, 2015; Palardy, 2015). Improving the effectiveness of teachers serving students from diverse racial and socio-economic backgrounds has become an important priority (Darling-Hammond, 2013). However, it is first necessary to recruit highly skilled teachers, cultivate their effectiveness, and retain them (Darling-Hammond, 2013).
Keeping novice teachers is particularly challenging in schools that serve predominantly students of color and students who live in poverty (Boyd, Grossman, Lankford, Loeb, & Wyckoff, 2008; Xu, Ozek, & Corritore, 2012). For instance, Boyd and colleagues found that first- and second-year teachers were 6% more likely to leave schools serving the highest proportions of students living in poverty than schools serving the lowest proportions of students living in poverty, and they were 9% more likely to leave schools serving predominantly Black and Hispanic students than schools serving predominantly White students. Similarly, Xu and colleagues found elementary teachers in North Carolina were 7% more likely to move from schools serving more students living in poverty to schools serving fewer students living in poverty than to move in the opposite direction. The most effective teachers who leave often choose to move from high- to low-poverty schools and from high- to low-minority schools, thus exacerbating disparities in access to effective teachers (Boyd et al., 2008).
These patterns of novice teacher attrition have led to concern that novice teachers seem to be avoiding students of color and students living in poverty (Borman & Dowling, 2008). However, DeAngelis and Pressley (2011) found that attrition rates in high-poverty, high-minority schools vary greatly; some such schools retained 50% of novices for 5 years while others retained as few as 12.5%; they concluded demographics cannot fully account for the high attrition common in high-poverty schools. Instead, novices may leave these schools because of poor working conditions common in high-poverty schools serving predominantly students of color (Schernoff, Mehta, Atkins, Torf, & Spencer, 2011). For instance, Johnson, Kraft, and Papay (2012) found that, after controlling for working conditions (e.g., administrative support, school culture), the relationship between teachers’ attrition and student demographics was substantially reduced. Johnson and colleagues concluded, “The apparent relationship between teacher turnover and student characteristics may largely reflect differences in the work context” among schools serving students from different backgrounds (p. 20). Other studies confirm working conditions account for much of the variance in novice teacher attrition (Boyd et al., 2011).
Given that working conditions predict teachers’ attrition from high-poverty schools (Johnson et al., 2012), understanding the nature of novices’ experiences of their working conditions may help school leaders develop conditions that retain novices in urban schools. We acknowledge the term urban is often used to describe schools in which substantial proportion of students are from traditionally marginalized groups (e.g., students of color, students living in poverty), even when such schools are not located within cities (Milner, 2012). Consistent with this usage, we conceptualize urban schools as those predominantly serving students who experience structural racial and socio-economic barriers to pursuing self-determined goals. We conceptualize urban teaching as social justice work that requires teachers to actively counteract their students’ and communities’ marginalization, through culturally responsive teaching.
Prior research has documented that urban schools may often present teachers with more difficult working conditions for a number of reasons. Despite efforts to ensure equitable school funding through Title 1, urban schools are often underfunded and, thus, struggle to obtain resources (e.g., instructional materials, qualified personnel) teachers depend on (Mosenkis, 2014; Ushomirsky & Williams, 2015); as a result, teachers in urban schools may be assigned overwhelming workloads without resources necessary to fulfill their responsibilities (Fall & Billingsley, 2011; Schernoff et al., 2011). Furthermore, urban schools serve students who are often stigmatized and disenfranchised by dominant culture (King, Akua, & Russell, 2015); this stigma can negatively influence the way urban schools and teachers are perceived and supported (Early & Shagoury, 2010). For instance, urban schools may be subject to more rigid, hierarchical controls than schools whose students are not viewed from a deficit orientation (Diamond & Spillane, 2004; King et al., 2015). Because novices in urban schools experience different working conditions than novices in schools serving predominantly White and affluent students (Fall & Billingsley, 2011), examining their experiences separately from other novice teachers is essential for understanding novices’ attrition from urban schools. Therefore, we examine the nature of novices’ experiences in high-poverty, public, urban schools, investigating the following research question:
Conceptual Framework
We conceptualize schools as “fundamentally social organizations characterized by social psychological processes” (Youngs, Frank, Thum, & Low, 2012, p. 249) and situate this review within the intersection of role theory (Biddle, 1986) and social capital theory (Kikuchi & Coleman, 2012). Role theory posits that one’s experiences in and responses to an environment are shaped by an interaction among personal factors (e.g., identity, knowledge), social context (e.g., cultural norms, relationships, social capital), and physical/temporal features of that environment (e.g., schedules, material resources; Biddle, 1986). These factors interact with one another. For instance, one’s knowledge may influence how colleagues interact with him or her, while social interactions may provide support for developing stronger knowledge (Bettini, Park, Benedict, Kimerling, & Leite, 2016; Kraft & Papay, 2014), and physical/temporal resources may shape knowledge and social interactions among colleagues by, for instance, providing materials, schedules, and spaces conducive to collaboration (Scruggs, Mastropieri, & McDuffie, 2007).
We intersect role theory (Biddle, 1986) with social capital theory’s focus on the resources inherent in social networks (Coleman, 1988; Kikuchi & Coleman, 2012). Social capital is the “resources that exist in social relations between individuals” (Curry & Holter, 2015, p. 9), and social capital theory posits that the “structure of relations” between and among individuals is a resource that contributes to how individuals and organizations pursue individual and collective aims (Coleman, 1988, p. 98). Social capital consists of bonds of trust, formal and informal obligations to others, and normative cultural expectations and assumptions about how members of a community should act and interact. As a resource, social capital can provide individuals with information, opportunities, and power to effect change (Kikuchi & Coleman,, 2012). Importantly for a study of urban schools, both role theory and social capital theory acknowledge how relationships between and among individuals and organizations are situated within specific historical, cultural, and political contexts (Biddle, 1986; Kikuchi & Coleman, 2012); for instance, social capital theory has often been used to highlight how the social capital of communities of color and communities living in poverty has often been marginalized in ways that perpetuate opportunity gaps (e.g., Devine, 2008; Dixon-Romàn, 2012; Lareau & Calarco, 2012; Monkman, Ronald, & Thèramène, 2005). Consistent with role theory and social capital theory, we conceptualize novices as teachers who are “making sense” (Youngs, Jones, & Low, 2011, p. 1520) of their roles, through interactions among their personal characteristics and their social, and physical contexts, while they are building social capital with their students, students’ families, colleagues, and administrators, to achieve their aims.
Literature Search Method
The literature search was conducted in Education Full Text. The terms new teacher, novice teacher, beginning teacher, and early career teacher were paired with poverty, urban, and divers*. Dates were limited to 2002-2016, as teachers’ experiences have changed since No Child Left Behind (Valli & Buese, 2007). Results were limited to peer-reviewed studies in public K-12 U.S. schools. Studies of charter and private schools were excluded, as working conditions and teacher attrition rates in these schools can be quite different from in public schools (e.g., Goldhaber, Destler, & Player, 2010).
To be included, studies had to examine teachers’ experiences during their first 5 years teaching in high-poverty schools. Five years is a common cutoff for determining when teachers cease to be a novice (e.g., Billingsley, Carlson, & Klein, 2004). This cutoff is consistent with evidence that teachers’ capacity to elicit growth in student achievement increases much more rapidly during the first 5 years teaching (Henry, Bastian, & Fortner, 2011; Xu, Ozek, & Hansen, 2013), which demonstrates that these years in a teacher’s career are substantively different from other periods, typically involving significant professional growth.
Studies evaluating effects of researcher-designed induction programs were not included; however, studies of novices’ experiences in districts’ normal induction were included. Studies describing novices’ beliefs and actions, without delving into their experiences of working conditions, were excluded. Participants had to be in their first through fifth year teaching, unless data for other years (e.g., pre-service experiences) were disaggregated. Participants also had to be providing academic instruction (e.g., math, language arts, science, social studies, special education).
Participants also needed to be teaching in high-poverty schools, or data for teachers in high-poverty schools needed to be disaggregated. We did not apply criteria to delimit how studies could define “high-poverty”; if authors stated the study was conducted in high-poverty schools, we accepted that assertion at face value. This was necessary, as many studies provided ambiguous descriptions of their contexts, but it is a limitation, as schools with high concentrations of students living in poverty likely provide novices with substantially different experiences than schools with moderate proportions of students living in poverty. The only time we did not accept the authors’ assertion was when demographic data belied authors’ claims to have focused on high-poverty schools; studies including schools with fewer than 20% of students living in poverty that did not disaggregate data for high- and low-poverty schools were excluded.
We analyzed studies using inductive thematic analysis (Corbin & Strauss, 2015). We carefully read each study, creating a table of methods and findings. We then looked across studies to identify themes. We created integrative summaries of major findings within each theme and how those findings were supported. We then re-read all studies, seeking findings that elaborated, complicated, or extended our understanding of each theme; thematic summaries were revised accordingly.
Literature Review Results
Sixteen studies examined novices’ experiences during their first 5 years in high-poverty schools. Consistent with role theory and social capital theory, novices’ experiences were shaped by their efforts to navigate their schools’ micro- and macro-social contexts, including (a) novices’ interactions with students, (b) school cultures, (c) collegial interactions, (d) formal induction and mentoring, and (e) the larger social context of urban schools. Also consistent with role theory, novices’ experiences were shaped by schools’ physical resources, especially instructional curricula.
Interactions With Students
Prior research has documented two trends in novices’ experiences of interactions with students. First, “practice shock” is when novices are confronted with the discrepancy between idealistic visions of teaching and reality; novices experiencing practice shock sometimes abandon ideal teaching practices in favor of traditional practices (Wideen, Mayer-Smith, & Moon, 1998). The second trend is a cultural mismatch between novices and students, which may lead novices to lower expectations and adopt a deficit orientation (Achinstein, Ogawa, Sexton, & Freitas, 2010). Six studies examined novices’ experiences of interactions with students. Many novices’ experiences were consistent with these trends, but most novices interpreted and responded to these experiences in positive ways.
Rodriguez (2015) studied a novice teacher, Gary, as he transitioned from a pre-service preparation program through 2 years teaching in a predominantly Latino/a, high-poverty high school. During pre-service preparation, Gary’s coursework emphasized socio-transformative constructivist (sTc; a constructivist approach to critical, multi-cultural education) science education. Gary’s supervising teacher also received training in sTc, his induction focused on sTc, and Gary expressed commitment to sTc. Rodriguez conducted two interviews per year, observed Gary weekly, recorded field notes, and collected data about students’ achievement. Consistent with practice shock, Gary reported struggling to address students’ poor attendance and disinterest in science. However, consistent with sTc principles, Gary addressed these issues by connecting science to students’ home lives, placing students in authentic scientific roles, and creating extra-curricular activities to engage students and families. These efforts were rewarded; attendance rates and enrollment increased in his class, and more students elected to join his club.
Achinstein and Barrett (2004) studied 15 mentor–mentee dyads from 12 elementary schools. They recorded mentoring sessions, conducted interviews, observed novices, and collected relevant documents. The authors found that novices and mentors used three frames to discuss novices’ interactions with students: (a) a managerial frame, focused on control; (b) a human relations frame, focused on relationships; and (c) a political frame, focused on social justice. Three cases illustrated how frames were used in mentor–mentee interactions. In the first case, Carmen came to teaching with strong motivation to teach for social justice but, consistent with “practice shock,” found she was becoming punitive and controlling in response to student behavior. Her mentor helped her to reframe behavioral challenges as human relations problems; for instance, she helped Carmen understand the pressure that might lead a student to cheat and to approach cheating with empathy. In the second case, Maggie was assigned to teach the “low” reading group (p. 733); consistent with cultural mismatch, she felt unsure of students’ capacities given their linguistic differences and, consequently, provided so much support that students had few opportunities to develop independent skills. Her mentor used a political frame to focus her on providing students equitable opportunities to become independent readers, despite their label. Finally, Tina was focused on “problem students” and classroom management (p. 736). Her mentor did not reframe these problems, and she remained focused on management and control.
In another study, Sara also experienced cultural mismatch (Chubbuck & Zembylas, 2008). Chubbuck and Zembylas observed Sara for 80 min per day for 9 weeks, interviewed her 6 times, and collected her reflective journal. Sara’s vision of socially just language arts instruction involved teaching students texts from dominant and marginalized cultures, relating texts to real problems in students’ lives, and empowering students to promote change. Sara reported feeling a paralyzing anxiety about lesson planning, as she spent extensive time and energy trying to understand how students might respond to lessons. When Sara was unable to fulfill her vision of socially just teaching, she felt deep guilt, worrying that she was perpetuating injustice. Contrary to trends in which novices who experience a cultural mismatch frame diversity as a problem (Achinstein & Barrett, 2004), Sara held herself accountable for all problems; however, the pressure that Sara put on herself became so heavy that she began having panic attacks and losing weight. She sought counseling for her anxiety; in addition, she reported informal interactions with students in an extra-curricular club helped her to “[get] over myself” and interact with students more authentically (p. 302). She shared that a student expressed annoyance that Sara was striving to be like “that White lady from Dangerous Minds” (p. 302) and explained that this interaction helped her invest more energy in forming relationships with students. Subsequently, she reported being able to relax and connect with students on a personal, as well as political, level.
Interestingly, Strom (2015) found that a first-year high school science teacher’s interactions with students influenced his instructional practices differently in two different courses. Strom conducted interviews with and observations of Mauro over one semester. In an 11th-grade earth science course, Mauro enacted constructivist practices he had learned in pre-service coursework; in contrast, in a ninth-grade environmental science class, he reverted to teacher-led direct instructional practices. This difference was partially influenced by his interactions with students. Mauro was able to build positive relationships with 11th-grade students, who he felt had maturity and motivation to engage in student-led activities; in addition, these were smaller classes, providing him more time to interact with individual students. He struggled to develop relationships with ninth-grade students in his larger environmental science courses, and thus, consistent with practice shock, reverted to more traditional management practices.
Achinstein and Aguirre (2008) conducted interviews, focus groups, and observations with 15 secondary teachers who were Latino/a, Asian American, Biracial, and African American, during their last year of pre-service preparation and their first 2 years teaching in high-poverty urban schools. Data were analyzed using iterative coding, followed by a cross-case analysis. The authors found that, despite shared racial, ethnic, linguistic, and socio-economic backgrounds, students perceived a cultural mismatch between themselves and teachers, and often challenged novices’ claims to share their backgrounds. They questioned whether teachers were “Brown enough” or “too Black” (p. 1515). Some students challenged teachers’ knowledge of Spanish, use of academic language, and ownership of objects (e.g., cars) that signified middle-class status. Novices had to respond to these challenges to build social capital with their students. Most novices had personal experience negotiating their cultural identity and understood that students who challenged them were attempting to understand their own cultural identities. Rather than framing diversity as a problem, most novices responded by using challenges as “teachable moments” (p. 1521); some novices problematized students’ beliefs that their cultural identity was incompatible with intellectual pursuits, while others explained how, when, and why they code switch.
Early and Shagoury (2010) conducted the only study in which novices did not experience practice shock or cultural mismatch. They qualitatively examined how novices framed and understood their experiences in high-poverty, urban schools. The authors purposively selected novices who had been rated as excellent by their administrators or mentors and who were in their first 1 to 4 years teaching language arts in high-poverty (i.e., minimum of 60% of students receiving free and reduced price lunches), diverse schools that had failed to make adequate yearly progress. Novices participated in interviews structured to elicit stories. Novices did not experience practice shock or cultural mismatch; rather, they reported feeling most satisfied when they were interacting with students, especially when students were taking ownership of learning. Novices reported teacher preparation helped them have positive experiences, by preparing them to build community, design social justice–oriented lessons, and value students’ diverse assets.
Conclusion about novices’ interactions with students
The reviewed studies documented that many novices’ experiences interacting with students were consistent with practice shock and cultural mismatch (Achinstein & Aguirre, 2008; Achinstein & Barrett, 2004; Chubbuck & Zembylas, 2008; Rodriguez, 2015; Strom, 2015). However, most novices used these experiences to become more skilled teachers. Novices’ positive responses to their experiences were supported by pre-service preparation (Early & Shagoury, 2010; Rodriguez, 2015; Strom, 2015), mentors (Achinstein & Barrett, 2004), students (Chubbuck & Zembylas, 2008; Strom, 2015), smaller class sizes (Strom, 2015), and their cultural and linguistic backgrounds (Achinstein & Aguirre, 2008). However, not all teachers were able to interpret experiences in positive ways; one teacher in Achinstein and Barrett’s study responded by adopting a control orientation, while a few teachers in Achinstein and Aguirre’s study responded by framing diversity as a problem.
School Culture
When novices begin teaching, they join a complex social organization, with established cultural norms, values, and assumptions about how members of the school community should act and interact (Youngs et al., 2012). Novices’ experiences are shaped by their school’s culture and the types of interactions fostered within that culture (Youngs et al., 2012). Seven studies qualitatively examined novices’ experiences of the degree to which their school cultures were aligned with their beliefs and values.
Bergeron (2008) collected field notes of a first-year teacher’s (Christina) instruction, journals of her experiences, her emails to the author, and documentary evidence of her instruction. Bergeron found Christina’s instructional beliefs were congruent with her principal’s value for culturally responsive instruction. This congruence provided her freedom to take instructional risks, deviating from policies that diverged from her values. She also had a strong relationship with the teacher in the classroom next door. She and this colleague co-planned lessons and supported one another.
Achinstein and Ogawa (2011) investigated how cultural, human, and social capital of novice Latina/o teachers’ schools influenced their efforts to act as role models, culturally responsive teachers, and change agents within high-poverty schools serving predominantly Latina/o students. Two participants were purposefully sampled because their experiences reflected patterns evident among a larger sample of 11 Latina/o teachers. Researchers conducted interviews with novices and administrators, observed novices’ instruction, and conducted focus groups during the last year of participants’ pre-service preparation and their first 3 years teaching. Both teachers reported school social contexts influenced their efforts to act as culturally and linguistically responsive (CLR) teachers. One teacher, Inez, was one of few Spanish-speaking teachers in her school; consequently, she was quickly assigned multiple roles as a translator, coordinator of the English as a second language (ESL) program, and senior teacher in her department, leaving her little time to form relationships with students. She also had few opportunities to connect with veteran teachers who shared her values, and no formal mentorship for learning to teach. Her school’s culture was “hostile” to the ESL department (in which she worked), discouraged meaningful interactions with parents, and was oriented toward controlling students (p. 2528). This culture limited her abilities to empower her students, as she herself was not empowered to make consequential decisions. In contrast, Alejandra worked in a school with extensive supports for teachers to bond with students and families. She had ongoing opportunities to collaborate with other teachers around CLR teaching practices, and the school culture was committed to CLR education. She worked with senior colleagues, her mentor, and university faculty to develop curricula that would resonate with students while empowering them to act as change agents.
Most other novices’ experiences aligned with Inez’s (Achinstein & Ogawa, 2011; Chubbuck & Zembylas, 2008; Rodriguez, 2015). For instance, Achinstein and Aguirre’s (2008) investigation found most novices engaged in complex conversations with students about race, class, and privilege, without support from colleagues or administrators. Their school social contexts provided little support for understanding how to help students understand these issues (Achinstein & Aguirre, 2008).
Some novices reported their school’s culture was in direct opposition to their values (Achinstein & Ogawa, 2006; Chubbuck & Zembylas, 2008; de Oliveira & Athanases, 2007; Rodriguez, 2015). For instance, Gary (Rodriguez, 2015) reported struggling with his school’s pervasive culture of low expectations. He felt he had to actively work against these expectations to avoid adopting them (Rodriguez, 2015). Similarly, Sara (Chubbuck & Zembylas, 2008) felt her struggles to develop lessons that promoted social justice were exacerbated by her school’s social climate, because she had to resist the pressure of a normative control orientation.
Teachers were aware of how working against dominant school cultures could be costly (Achinstein & Ogawa, 2006; de Oliveira & Athanases, 2007). de Oliveira and Athanases examined focus groups in which 38 novice teachers from the same teacher-preparation program discussed experiences advocating for students. Consistent with their preparation program’s focus on equity, novices felt responsible for advocating for equitable educational practices. However, advocacy often involved confrontation with others. With limited social capital in their new schools, novices worried that they would “get in trouble” with administrators (p. 129). They weighed costs and benefits of advocacy, choosing not to speak when they felt benefits were unachievable or costs were too high (de Oliveira & Athanases, 2007).
Achinstein and Ogawa (2006) described one teacher who paid a high cost for refusing to adhere to her school’s norms. They conducted an in-depth study of two novices who resisted pressure to implement a scripted literacy curriculum. The authors interviewed teachers, mentors, and administrators, conducted observations of novices’ instruction and mentoring interactions, and administered a new teacher survey. One novice, Sue, was committed to creativity and meeting students’ individual needs; this commitment led her to create literacy lessons that incorporated novel study and dialogue among students. Although her administrators viewed her as highly competent, she was released from her contract after 1 year because her adherence to a balanced literacy program and her advocacy for enriching literacy experiences led her administrators to believe she was not a “team player” (Achinstein & Ogawa, 2006, p. 42).
Conclusion about school cultures and collegial interactions
Across studies, only three novices worked in schools where their administrators and their school’s culture held values aligned with novices’ commitment to teaching for social justice (Achinstein & Ogawa, 2006, 2011; Bergeron, 2008). Most novices endeavored to enact their values in a culture that either actively discouraged teaching for social justice (Achinstein & Ogawa, 2011) or passively ignored issues of cultural and linguistic diversity (Achinstein & Aguirre, 2008). Novices experienced school cultures that were committed to controlling students (Achinstein & Ogawa, 2011; Anderson & Olsen, 2006; Chubbuck & Zembylas, 2008), had pervasive low expectations (Rodriguez, 2015), and promoted teaching as transmission of information (Achinstein & Ogawa, 2006). Novices were aware of how working against the dominant school culture could (and in one case did) carry substantial costs; this awareness influenced how they advocated for students and resisted normative cultural pressures (Achinstein & Ogawa, 2006; de Oliveira & Athanases, 2007).
Collegial Interactions
Six studies examined novices’ interactions with colleagues. Prior research consistently indicates administrative and collegial support is crucial for novices’ retention (e.g., Guarino, Santibanez, & Daley, 2006) and learning (e.g., Kraft & Papay, 2014). Consistent with prior research, reviewed studies found that novices relied on support from administrators and colleagues.
Early and Shagoury (2010; previously described) found novice language arts teachers’ experiences were deeply influenced by interactions with administrators. Some novices reported that administrators treated them with respect, communicated regularly, modeled positive perspectives on their school and students, included them in decisions, and helped them improve; relationships with administrators helped them feel confident and committed to their schools. In contrast, other novices reported feeling “invisible” in schools where administrators did not communicate regularly or offer support (p. 1053). Novices also reported relying heavily on opportunities to collaborate with other beginning language arts teachers.
In Achinstein and Ogawa’s (2006; previously described) study, both novices’ commitment to creative, individualized literacy instruction led them to create literacy lessons incorporating novel study and dialogue among students. However, Sue’s school did not promote supportive, instructionally focused professional interactions, and she described feeling isolated. In contrast, Rob had frequent, instructionally focused interactions with other novices. He felt less isolated than Sue and reported that these interactions helped him maintain his commitment to CLR practices.
Waddell (2010) similarly found that eight novice elementary teachers who continued teaching for 4 to 6 years reported relying heavily on support from colleagues and administrators. Waddell conducted observations, gathered documents, and held semi-structured interviews and focus groups. Waddell found that relationships with colleagues were essential for teachers’ decisions to continue teaching. Teachers reported going to colleagues for support, valuing their membership in a community with a shared mission, and experiencing “a sense of belonging, ownership, and satisfaction” (p. 76). They also reported that feeling “valued, respected and supported” by their principal was instrumental in their decisions to continue teaching (p. 78).
Anderson and Olsen (2006) interviewed and observed 15 teachers with 2 to 6 years’ experience teaching in urban schools to understand the nature of novices’ interactions with colleagues. Profiles of two novices were presented to illustrate the themes. Jasmine, a second-year teacher, reported interacting frequently with other novices, which she described as “the blind leading the blind” (p. 363). She interacted with grade-level colleagues frequently, but explained that interactions focused on logistical issues, not instruction. Her school had a climate of “anxiety and alienation,” as administrators responded to accountability pressure by micro-managing instruction (p. 363). In contrast, the other novice, Cristina, had meaningful collaborative relationships with colleagues. She team-taught with two teachers and collaborated daily with grade-level colleagues, focusing on instructional improvement. She and her colleagues had extensive autonomy, with few mandates about how to structure team teaching. Across cases, novices reported opportunities to interact with colleagues were the most important mechanism by which they improved their instruction.
Hopkins and Spillane’s (2015) investigation of novices’ instructional interactions with colleagues was one of only two studies comparing novices’ experiences in high- versus low-poverty schools. Participants were in their first 3 years of teaching; 49 novices taught in “Auburn Park,” a predominantly White, affluent district where 22% of students receive free and reduced price lunches, while 34 novices taught in “Twin Rivers,” a district where 69% of students receive free and reduced price lunches, 48% of students are Latino/a, and 45% are White. All teachers in each school were surveyed, and novices’ social networks were compared across districts and with more experienced teachers’ social networks. The authors also conducted semi-structured interviews with personnel in five Auburn Park schools and two Twin Rivers schools. In both districts, novices sought help from more people than experienced teachers and sought advice from more people in reading than in math. Twin Rivers teachers sought more colleagues’ help in math than Auburn Park teachers. In both districts, novices primarily sought help from grade-level colleagues and formal leaders (e.g., mentors, literacy coaches), although Twin Rivers novices were more likely to go to their principal than Auburn Park novices. Novices in both districts were significantly more likely to go to their principal than experienced teachers. Novices’ interactions with grade-level colleagues were facilitated by the proximity of their classrooms to skilled colleagues, shared instructional curricula, and common planning time, and in Auburn Park, a professional learning community. School principals also reported intentionally creating opportunities for novices to obtain instructional support; these opportunities included observations with feedback and modeling by instructional coaches. Novices reported that interactions with colleagues provided them essential opportunities to learn about content, curricula, pedagogy, and students.
Fall and Billingsley (2011) also compared novices’ experiences in high-poverty schools with low-poverty schools. Participants included a nationally representative sample of 400 special educators from high-poverty districts and 292 special educators from low-poverty districts; all participants had 5 or fewer years of experience. Novices in high-poverty districts reported experiencing significantly less administrative support, collegial support, and involvement in decision making.
Conclusion about collegial interactions
Consistent with prior research on teachers in general (e.g., Guarino et al., 2006; Kraft & Papay, 2014), novices reported that supportive, instructionally focused interactions with colleagues and administrators facilitated their learning (Anderson & Olsen, 2006; Hopkins & Spillane, 2015), their commitment to CLR practices (Achinstein & Ogawa, 2006), and their commitment to continue teaching in their schools (Early & Shagoury, 2010; Waddell, 2010). However, access to supportive instructional interactions with colleagues varied; some novices reported that collegial interactions with other novices were unhelpful (Anderson & Olsen, 2006), while others felt invisible in schools where administrators were not involved in their work (Early & Shagoury, 2010). Furthermore, novices in high-poverty schools were significantly less likely to report having adequate collegial support than novices in low-poverty schools (Fall & Billingsley, 2011).
Professional Learning Opportunities, Including Formal Induction and Mentoring
Professional learning opportunities are intended to help novices continue developing instructional knowledge and skills, as well as teaching them about the expectations and norms of their school and district (Wang, Odell, & Schwill, 2008). Seven studies examined novices’ professional learning opportunities in high-poverty schools.
Israel and colleagues interviewed 16 first-year special educators and their mentors, collected logs of mentors’ time use, and collected mentors’ formal observation data. The authors found that a formal process for mentor observations helped mentors focus on providing novices detailed guidance about improving their instruction. Novices reported that mentors’ feedback helped them improve. They also shared that emotional support was embedded within instructional support (Israel, Kamman, McCray, & Sindelar, 2014). Similarly, in Anderson and Olsen’s (2010) investigation (previously described), novices reported that mentors’ feedback was instrumental for helping them learn how to teach, and in Bergeron’s study (also previously described), Christina’s mentor observed her frequently and provided essential feedback about how to improve. In contrast, Gary, the novice teacher in Rodriguez’s investigation (previously described), reported feeling frustrated that, although he was frequently observed by administrators and a mentor, they never provided him substantive feedback, and he questioned whether his instruction could improve without it (Rodriguez, 2015).
Achinstein and Barrett (2004; previously described) evaluated the substance of mentoring conversations. They found that mentor–mentee dyads who used a managerial frame to discuss teaching problems were less likely to use human relations and political frames, whereas dyads who used a human relations frame were more likely to also use a political frame. Novices were more likely to initiate conversations using a managerial frame, whereas mentors were more likely to initiate conversations using other frames. Through dialogue with mentees, some mentors helped novices reframe their thinking about the problems of teaching, moving from managerial framing to political and human relational framing.
Wasburn-Moses compared novice special educators with novice general educators in high-poverty schools. She surveyed 232 novice teachers in two urban school districts in the Midwest. Although most special educators in these districts had an assigned mentor (64.4%), they were significantly less likely to have an assigned mentor than novice general educators (79.3%). In addition, special education mentors were significantly less likely to have release time for mentoring activities (14.3%) than general education mentors (29.9%). Similarly, only 14.9% of special education mentors were paid for mentoring, significantly less than the proportion of general education mentors (40.8%) who were paid. These differences raised the possibility that access to mentorship may be a greater problem for novice special educators than novice general educators (Wasburn-Moses, 2010). However, Fall and Billingsley (previously described) found that novice special educators in high-poverty districts were significantly more likely to participate in formal mentoring programs (62.8%) than special educators in low-poverty districts (57.7%).
Only two studies examined other forms of professional development, aside from mentorship (Anderson & Olsen, 2006; Fall & Billingsley, 2011). Fall and Billingsley found that there were no significant differences in the total hours of professional development novice special educators reported receiving in high- versus low-poverty schools, but there were significant differences in the nature of their professional development. Novices in high-poverty schools were significantly more likely to participate in university coursework (58.1%) than novices in low-poverty schools (45.6%), likely because they were also more likely to be pursuing certification through an alternative program while beginning their teaching career. In contrast, novice special educators in low-poverty districts were more likely to receive informal help from colleagues (96.4%) than novices in high-poverty districts (92.3%) and participate in informal networks of teachers (58.1%) than novices in high-poverty districts (46.8%).
Anderson and Olsen (2006; previously described) found that teachers earlier in their careers were more likely to report needing more professional development, especially regarding classroom management and instructional strategies. In contrast, as novices gained experiences, they became more interested in professional development focused on the socio-political context of their teaching, taking on leadership roles, and school improvement efforts. Some teachers had extensive, high-quality professional development available in their school, whereas other novices had to provide professional development for newer teachers, at a time when they themselves were still learning to teach (Anderson & Olsen, 2006).
Conclusion about novice teachers’ professional development experiences in high-poverty schools
Most of the reviewed studies examined novice teachers’ experiences of mentorship in high-poverty schools (Achinstein & Barrett, 2004; Anderson & Olsen, 2006; Bergeron, 2008; Fall & Billingsley, 2011; Israel et al., 2014; Rodriguez, 2015; Wasburn-Moses, 2010). These studies generally indicated that novices found mentorship more useful when their mentors provided substantive feedback on how to improve instruction (Anderson & Olsen, 2006; Bergeron, 2008; Israel et al., 2014; Rodriguez, 2015). In addition, some mentors may have helped novices reframe the ways they thought about the problems of teaching, to be better aligned with CLR practices (Achinstein & Barrett, 2004). However, access to mentorship may vary depending on teachers’ teaching assignments (Wasburn-Moses, 2010) and the poverty level of their district (Fall & Billingsley, 2011), as special education teachers and teachers in low-poverty schools were less likely to have assigned mentors.
The Larger Social Context of High-Poverty Schools
Two studies examined novices’ social context outside their school and how their social capital influenced their experiences. Anderson (2010) investigated four novice teachers’ experiences teaching in a high-poverty high school serving predominantly Latino/a students. She administered a social network survey, observed each teacher for 1 full week, conducted interviews, and collected relevant documents. Novice teachers’ relationships with colleagues from other schools contributed to their career decisions. Two novices whose connections at other schools received better support explained that their decisions to leave their school were, in part, a function of realizing that they could experience more supportive conditions elsewhere. In contrast, two other novices used their social capital outside their schools to complement the support they received within their school and to contribute to their own school’s improvement.
Early and Shagoury (2010; previously described) found that novice language arts teachers in high-poverty schools were troubled by the disparity between their own positive views of the schools and the deficit-oriented views of the local community. For instance, one novice said, I know everybody thinks my school is made up of thugs who get in fights every day . . . It’s not that bad. There’s nothing particularly dangerous here—just normal kids . . . It’s a normal busy campus. (p. 1052)
Novices reported struggling to negotiate the balance between actively countering society’s deficit orientation toward their school and students, while addressing the very serious challenges their schools experienced, such as inadequate resources and facilities.
Conclusion about the larger social context of high-poverty schools
Two studies examined novices’ experiences of the larger social context of high-poverty, urban schools. These studies differed greatly in focus, but they both concur in finding that novices are aware of and influence community members outside school (Anderson, 2010; Early & Shagoury, 2010). Some novices were able to use social capital within the community to help improve their school (Anderson, 2010) and to counter prevailing stigmas about working in high-poverty, urban communities (Early & Shagoury, 2010).
Curricula
Novices are often still developing their instructional beliefs and practices, and they may be susceptible to adopting instructional approaches promoted by curricular materials (Grossman & Thompson, 2004; Grossman, Thompson, & Valencia, 2002). The design and delivery of curricula in high-poverty schools are a contentious topic (Achinstein & Ogawa, 2006; Milner, 2013, 2014). On one hand, some scholars have argued that structured, standardized curricula can provide novices necessary guidance about what and how to teach, thus reducing demands and providing opportunities for them to continue learning effective pedagogical practices (Grossman & Thompson, 2004; Hiebert & Morris, 2012), and some studies of novice teachers have found that novices felt better able to manage the demands of planning and delivering instruction when they had access to structured curricula (e.g., Grossman & Thompson, 2004; Kauffman et al., 2002). However, none of those studies focused on novices in high-poverty schools. On the other hand, some scholars have expressed concern about how standardized curricula might affect novice teachers in high-poverty schools (Achinstein & Ogawa, 2006). Because standardized curricula are based on dominant, White middle-class culture, they seldom promote CLR practices, and they may be subtractive in nature, framing students’ diverse background knowledge, skills, and cultures as problems to be fixed rather than assets to be leveraged and strengthened; thus, some scholars contend that standardized curricula may reduce novices’ autonomy to learn about their students’ cultures and incorporate their students’ funds of knowledge into instruction (Achinstein & Ogawa, 2006; King et al., 2015). Five reviewed studies investigated novices’ experiences of curricula; in all studies, novices’ experiences were consistent with the second set of concerns.
Crocco and Costigan (2007) interviewed language arts and social studies teachers with 5 or fewer years’ experience about accountability pressures in New York City’s public schools. Individual teachers were interviewed multiple times, and focus groups were conducted with small groups of teachers. Novices reported experiencing a “shrinking space” in which to make autonomous instructional decisions (p. 517). Although they wanted support for instructional decisions, they felt that narrowed curricula and scripted lesson plans limited the autonomy they needed to develop positive relationships with students, to learn from their own decisions, and to teach effectively.
Schultz, Jones-Walker, and Chikkatur (2008) obtained similar results in their investigation of how novice elementary school teachers enacted a “listening stance” (i.e., a reflective, inquiry-based approach to teaching and learning, in which teachers listen to their individual students, their classrooms, and their communities). Participants included seven teachers in their first 4 years and five student teachers, all of whom had attended a teacher-preparation program that cultivated a listening stance and all of whom taught in the same elementary school in a high-poverty urban district that had recently been taken over by the state. The school served 80% African American students, 9% Asian students, 7% Latino/a students, and 5% White students, the majority of whom were from lower income families. The district had adopted standardized curricula in language arts and math. Over the 2 years of the study, the authors conducted monthly focus groups with participants and observed participants’ classrooms for 6 to 10 hr weekly. The authors found that novices’ efforts to incorporate a listening stance into instruction were influenced by the “extent to which such rituals could work in concert with the district core curriculum” (p. 174), as well as their own beliefs about urban schools and students of color. One first-year teacher, Diane, felt troubled by the discrepancy between the mandated writing rubric (which emphasized responding to prompts and mechanically editing those responses) and her own approach, which emphasized writing and revising for authentic purposes. At first, she adopted the district’s rubric, introduced more prompts into her instruction, and reduced time on authentic writing workshops. However, she felt uncomfortable with this approach, and eventually created her own rubric, which her principal approved. Another teacher, Julie, endeavored to incorporate community building and listening into her implementation of district-mandated writing prompts, by having community discussions of individual students’ responses to prompts. However, the authors expressed concerns that the teachers tended to enact the listening stance in superficial ways, using a listening stance to build relationships with kids, but not to substantively build curriculum around their students’ strengths, needs, and interests.
Strom (2015; previously described) found that Mauro’s instructional practices were more responsive to students’ learning needs in his 11th-grade course, which was not associated with any standardized testing or established curricula. In contrast, his ninth-grade course had a tightly paced curricula and mandated standardized assessments; as a result, Mauro felt more pressure to “cover” content, at the expense of being responsive to students’ interests and learning needs.
Achinstein and Ogawa (2006; previously described) also found that novices felt limited by structured curricula. The novices in their study shared a commitment to creativity and meeting students’ individual needs, but worked in schools with mandated scripted literacy curricula. The first teacher, Sue, paid lip service to the mandated curriculum, but also involved her students in literary discussions, novel study, and authentic writing. As mentioned previously, her administrators, colleagues, and mentor viewed her as a promising, skilled new teacher, but her contract was not renewed because of her resistance to the prescriptive literacy program. The second teacher, Rob, had more social support for deviating from the curriculum; however, he felt that changes in district personnel and policy were going to erode this support. As a result, he moved to a different school at the end of his second year.
Like Sue and Rob (Achinstein & Ogawa, 2006), Gary, the novice teacher in Rodriguez’s (2015) investigation (previously described), resisted standardized curricula. He adhered to sTc principles, rather than following his district’s science curriculum. However, deviating from the curriculum created major problems. He reported having to “find the time to work around” the curriculum so he could create culturally responsive activities. Creating his own curriculum allowed him to provide the kind of science instruction he felt his students needed, but it also created tensions, including tension with school administrators as he struggled to obtain appropriate material resources, tension with his wife when he spent personal money to purchase materials, and tension within his workday as he struggled to find time to develop curricula.
Conclusion about novices’ experiences of curriculum
The novices in the five reviewed studies all experienced structured curricula as limiting their instructional decisions (Achinstein & Ogawa, 2006; Crocco & Costigan, 2007; Rodriguez, 2015; Schultz et al., 2008; Strom, 2015). Their experiences differed greatly from novices’ experiences in studies that did not focus on high-poverty contexts. Studies that included novices in low-poverty contexts have reported that structured curricula helped novices manage their instructional responsibilities (e.g., Grossman & Thompson, 2004; Kauffman et al., 2002); in contrast, novices in high-poverty schools reported that their efforts to provide CLR instruction were more complicated, challenging, and risky because of their structured curricula (Achinstein & Ogawa, 2006; Crocco & Costigan, 2007; Rodriguez, 2015; Schultz et al., 2008; Strom, 2015).
Discussion
The purpose of this literature review was to examine the nature of novice teachers’ experiences in high-poverty schools. Sixteen studies since 2001 addressed novices’ experiences in high-poverty schools. Across studies, there were some consistent findings worth noting.
First, although novices’ interactions with students were often consistent with practice shock and cultural mismatch, many novices were able to respond to these experiences in productive ways (Achinstein & Aguirre, 2008; Achinstein & Barrett, 2004; Chubbuck & Zembylas, 2008; Rodriguez, 2015; Strom, 2015). Certain kinds of experiences seemed to support them in doing so, including their pre-service preparation (Early & Shagoury, 2010; Rodriguez, 2015), mentorship (Achinstein & Barrett, 2004), students (Chubbuck & Zembylas, 2008; Strom, 2015), and their own cultural and linguistic backgrounds (Achinstein & Aguirre, 2008).
Second, most novices’ social contexts were characterized by norms, beliefs, and assumptions that were incongruent with novices’ commitments to social justice and CLR teaching (Achinstein & Ogawa, 2006, 2011; Anderson & Olsen, 2006; de Oliveira & Athanases, 2007; Chubbuck & Zembylas, 2008; Rodriguez, 2015). Some novices were able to enact their instructional values within contexts hostile to those values (Achinstein & Ogawa, 2006; Chubbuck & Zembylas, 2008; Rodriguez, 2015) and others advocated for change (de Oliveira & Athanases, 2007). However, novices were acutely aware of potential consequences of continuing to enact their commitments, and in one case, a novice lost her job as a result of acting upon instructional values that conflicted with her school’s (Achinstein & Ogawa, 2006; de Oliveira & Athanases, 2007, 2007).
Third, novices relied on supportive, instructionally focused interactions with colleagues and administrators (Achinstein & Ogawa, 2006; Anderson & Olsen, 2006; Early & Shagoury, 2010; Fall & Billingsley, 2011; Hopkins & Spillane, 2015; Waddell, 2010). Novices reported supportive interactions helped them improve their instructional skills (Anderson & Olsen, 2006; Hopkins & Spillane, 2015) and remain committed to teaching in their schools (Early & Shagoury, 2010; Waddell, 2010). In contrast, novices reported struggling or leaving when support was lacking (Achinstein & Ogawa, 2006; Anderson & Olsen, 2010; Early & Shagoury, 2010; Waddell, 2010).
Fourth, novices considered mentorship an important support for learning to teach, especially when mentors provided critical feedback on their instruction (Anderson & Olsen, 2006; Bergeron, 2008; Israel et al., 2014). However, access to skilled mentorship may vary greatly among novices (Fall & Billingsley, 2011; Wasburn-Moses, 2010).
Finally, novices reported structured curricula further complicated their efforts to provide CLR instruction (Achinstein & Ogawa, 2006; Crocco & Costigan, 2007; Rodriguez, 2015; Strom, 2015). This finding was particularly interesting because qualitative studies not focused on novices in high-poverty schools obtained quite different results, finding structured curricula were an essential support for learning to teach (e.g., Kauffman et al., 2002). No studies to date have used generalizable methods to examine differences in novices’ experiences of their curricula in high- versus low-poverty schools, but our findings suggest novices in high-poverty schools may experience and respond to structured curricula differently from novices in low-poverty schools. Our review does not allow us to determine why this might be the case, but there are several plausible explanations. It may be the result of curricula that are primarily designed for a White middle-class audience and are poorly aligned with CLR practices. Another possibility is that novices who are committed to high-poverty schools may have greater pre-dispositions to be independent, reflective, and critical of instructional materials. It is also possible that, because high-poverty schools have greater difficulty attracting and retaining skilled leaders (Beteille, Kalogrides, & Loeb, 2012; Loeb, Kalogrides, & Horng, 2010), school-wide implementation of structured curricula may be carried out with less skill in these settings. Another possibility is that high-poverty schools are often subject to more rigid, hierarchical controls than low-poverty schools (Diamond & Spillane, 2004; King et al., 2015), and thus, structured curricula may be implemented with greater rigidity, making it more difficult for novices to adapt curricula to meet student needs. No reviewed studies provide any insights into which, if any, of these possibilities might be at play.
Studies of novice general educators addressed quite different concerns from studies of novice special educators. Whereas many studies of novice general educators focused on CLR instruction and promoting educational equity (e.g., Achinstein & Aguirre, 2008; de Oliveira & Athanases, 2007; Rodriguez, 2015), studies of novice special educators focused on professional learning experiences, without addressing how teaching students from traditionally marginalized backgrounds might interact with novices’ experiences (Fall & Billingsley, 2011; Israel et al., 2014; Wasburn-Moses, 2010). There were also methodological differences, as most studies of general educators used qualitative methods, whereas two of three studies of novice special educators used quantitative methods. Only one study of novice general educators (Hopkins & Spillane, 2015) used quantitative methods.
Implications for Policy and Practice
Findings contribute to urban education by highlighting key policies and practices needed to better cultivate effective teachers for urban schools. To effectively retain novices in high-poverty, urban schools, the reviewed studies suggest administrators should communicate regularly with novices about instruction (Achinstein & Ogawa, 2006; Early & Shagoury, 2010; Hopkins & Spillane, 2015; Waddell, 2010). We recommend that school leaders invest extra time in building trusting relationships with novice teachers. For instance, they should schedule informal observations and meetings early in the school year, so that novices have an opportunity to get clarification about administrators’ expectations for their work and to obtain more support if needed.
School leaders should also purposefully plan for others to provide support. Novices rely on a network of support, from colleagues as well as administrators; school leaders can facilitate the development of that network, by ensuring that skilled instructional support personnel (e.g., mentors, instructional specialists, etc.) have dedicated time for supporting each novice (Anderson & Olsen, 2010; Bergeron, 2008; Early & Shagoury, 2010; Hopkins & Spillane, 2015).
The reviewed studies also indicate school leaders should carefully cultivate their school’s culture (e.g., Achinstein & Ogawa, 2006, 2011; de Oliveira & Athanases, 2007). Novices reported struggling in schools with cultures of low expectations (Chubbuck & Zembylas, 2008; Rodriguez, 2015), cultures focused on controlling rather than supporting students (Achinstein & Ogawa, 2011; Chubbuck & Zembylas, 2008), and cultures with deficit perspectives on students (Early & Shagoury, 2010). School leaders can reflect upon their own words and actions, examining how they are modeling and cultivating an asset-based culture of high expectations for all students.
The Every Student Succeeds Act (ESSA; 2015) mandates that states submit equity plans detailing how they will ensure that students’ racial, ethnic, and socio-economic background does not place them at increased risk of having an ineffective or inexperienced teacher. All teachers are, at some point, novices, and it is inevitable that some students will have inexperienced teachers, but equity plans are required to articulate how states will ensure that a students’ race, socio-economic status, and disability status does not increase the likelihood of repeated exposure to inexperienced teachers. Our findings indicate that, to retain teachers in high-poverty schools for longer, states should consider incorporating strategies to improve school social contexts into equity plans. For instance, they might evaluate whether any current policies (e.g., individual teacher evaluation) have potential to undermine supportive, collaborative school cultures, and consider how those policies might be adjusted to support collaborative cultures with high expectations for all students (e.g., Jones, Bettini, & Brownell, 2016). States should also consider whether their administrator licensure programs adequately prepare school principals to cultivate positive school cultures and provide instructional support for novices in high-poverty urban schools.
Implications for Future Research
Findings also contribute to urban education by highlighting key research needed to inform future policy and practice for cultivating effective teachers for urban schools. The reviewed qualitative studies indicate that certain experiences may support novices in framing interactions with students positively (Achinstein & Aguirre, 2008; Achinstein & Barrett, 2004; Chubbuck & Zembylas, 2008; Early & Shagoury, 2010; Rodriguez, 2015; Strom, 2015). Future research should continue investigating circumstances under which novices are most likely to interpret interactions with students in ways that are compatible with CLR instruction. In particular, generalizable quantitative studies would help to determine whether relationships identified by these qualitative investigations (e.g., the relationship between pre-service preparation in sTc and a novice’s ability to respond positively to practice shock; Rodriguez, 2015) apply to other teachers. Such studies could help justify policies incorporating these experiences into pre-service preparation.
Only two studies explicitly compared novices’ experiences in high-poverty schools with experiences in low-poverty schools (Fall & Billingsley, 2011; Hopkins & Spillane, 2015). This is unfortunate; both studies identified important differences, and this review found novices’ experiences of structured curricula may differ in high- versus low-poverty schools. Further research is needed to better understand (a) how novices’ experiences in high-poverty schools differ from experiences in low-poverty schools, (b) why these differences occur, (c) what impact differences have on attrition and instruction, and (d) how school demographics might moderate the effect of certain experiences (e.g., structured curricula) on important outcomes.
Studies of novice special versus general educators differed in focus and methodology. No studies of novice special educators investigated how novices negotiated the intersection between disability and cultural and linguistic diversity. This is a complex and challenging issue (Tefera, Thorius, & Artiles, 2014), and further research is needed to understand how novice special educators make sense of it. Methodologically, only one study of novice general educators relied on quantitative methods (Hopkins & Spillane, 2015), and more quantitative research is needed to determine whether the experiences and relationships identified in the reviewed studies are common among novices in high-poverty schools.
Further research is also needed to examine dimensions of novices’ experiences in high-poverty schools that were seldom or never examined in the reviewed studies. For instance, only one study investigated the kinds of professional development novices wanted (Anderson & Olsen, 2006); future research should further examine what professional development novices in high-poverty schools find most useful and what factors moderate the usefulness of different professional development (PD). Similarly, research on novices’ social contexts primarily focused on whether their schools’ culture was consistent with novices’ instructional values and goals, but other aspects of the social context are also likely to be relevant and worthy of investigation, such as whether the school context promotes a sense of collective efficacy (Hoy, Tartar, & Hoy, 2006) and collective responsibility (Jones, Youngs, & Frank, 2013). Further research on novices’ experiences of their school’s macro-social context (e.g., Early & Shagoury, 2010) is also needed to better understand how novices make sense of the socio-political context of teaching and their students’ lives. Other aspects of novices’ experiences were never addressed. For example, what is the nature of novice teachers’ experiences interacting with students’ parents? How do novices connect with and relate to the communities in which they teach? How do novices in urban schools experience teacher evaluation systems?
Future research should more carefully describe research settings. Only a handful of studies (e.g., Achinstein & Aguirre, 2008; Early & Shagoury, 2010; Fall & Billingsley, 2011) clearly articulated why they classified schools as high-poverty and/or urban. Many studies stated that the study took place in a high-poverty school (e.g., de Oliveira & Athanases, 2007), or stated that a substantial proportion of novices’ students were from diverse backgrounds (e.g., Achinstein & Barrett, 2004), without providing any data to support that assertion. Novices’ experiences in moderate-poverty schools may be quite different from their experiences in high-poverty schools, which seem to be less responsive to school reform efforts (Rothstein, 2013). More detailed information about schools’ demographics and communities may be essential for interpreting findings across studies, and future research should more thoroughly provide this information.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
