Abstract
In preparing to write this review on Wilma Fraser’s book, Seeking Wisdom in Adult Teaching and Learning, I decided to invite one of my graduate students, Elizabeth Tingle, to engage in this process with me. I realized, while reading this book, I was close to the age of the author and I have also lived many of the changes she has experienced as an adult educator, both within the university and at the broader societal level. Indeed, even though I reside on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean here in Canada, I could certainly relate to her stance when she acknowledges that while is she searching for wisdom, “the tone of this narrative is coloured by a profound sense of loss at many levels” (p. 141). However, she also indicated that it was important to “collectively inspire hope and courage across our departments and faculties; and to pay particular attention to the metaphors we use in our teaching and learning environments so that we can foster alternative narratives of openness” (p. 190). And so, I began to wonder what it would be like to read this book from the perspective of someone who, while having significant experience as a community adult educator, is fairly new to discourses of adult education. In essence, as she stands at the beginning of the road as an academic, what wisdom is she garnering from the author, someone I would associate as being an elder academic? We now turn to Elizabeth and her commentary on Fraser’s book.
As a first year MA student in adult education, I have more questions than answers. While I have some educational background as a former secondary teacher, the theory and history of the discipline of adult education is new terrain for me. During my first course with Dr. Groen, I was inspired and excited about the field I was joining; I love how expansive, radical, and inclusive adult education can be. Surely, the adult educator is vital in a world where constant learning is needed and celebrated.
And yet, this excitement and optimism has been somewhat dimmed as I conclude my first year of coursework and prepare to write my thesis. I have even wondered: Have I entered a dying field? Wilma Fraser, in her autoethnographic inquiry Seeking Wisdom in Adult Teaching and Learning provides the perspective and insight of someone at the opposite end of my current journey. Fraser wrote about her “pilgrimage” (p. 11) to seek for wisdom as she retired from the field of adult education, and so takes stock of both her personal career as well as the history of adult education generally. She is concerned that the commodification and increasing “hard edged rationalism” (p. 187) of adult education programs has displaced wisdom. The personification of wisdom, Sophia, is used by Fraser as a “metaphorical carrier” (p. 118) for the subjective, mythical, artistic, right-brained, and other alternative epistemologies that are pushed toward the margins in the pursuit of upskilling and marketplace learning. Fraser invoked the polarizing Brexit vote and Trump election as well as ecological crises as evidence that adult education programs that invite Sophia and promote critical reflection and wise judgment are especially needed. Fraser’s text, as well as Peter Jarvis’ (2006, 2007, 2008) Lifelong Learning and the Learning Society Trilogy, which I read for a course alongside Seeking Wisdom in Adult Teaching and Learning, combined to create a less inviting view of adult education. Ironically, I have started to worry about whether I will find fulfilling work in a field that has arguably suffered because of a myopic focus on the workplace.
Fraser’s inquiry deliberately eschews linearity and certainty, which is fitting given the elusive and extrarational nature of her topic. She describes her work as a “spiral” (p. 17), and accordingly undulates between personal narrative, historical research, genealogy, excerpts from interviews, poetry, artwork, and theory from a wide array of disciplines. Fraser has also seamlessly curated many theories and observations on wisdom from other researchers. Fraser chronicles the historical suppression of wisdom and the divine feminine in Judeo-Christian religious traditions and contends that the same marginalization occurs today at the hands of “increasing reductionism” (p. 131) rather than religious creeds. This text is also a transparent discussion of methodology; Fraser openly shares how autoethnographic writing became her primary research method as well as the potentials and pitfalls of this approach. Fraser takes courageous risks in sharing her own poetry, reflections on possible regrets, and her painful emotions surrounding her mother’s battle with dementia and ultimate death. She acknowledges how the interplay of her research and personal experiences have shaped her message: “My sense of loss has drenched the whole narrative” (p. 188).
While Fraser mourns many losses in her inquiry, she also offers “creative and hopeful glimpses” (p. 188) of the future. In the penultimate chapter, “Towards a Wise Curriculum,” Fraser provides a few examples of educators who have tried to invite wisdom into their teaching practice and programs, though I wish she had shared more and had dedicated additional chapters to this theme. After such a compelling plea to invite Sophia into adult education, I craved stories of people who have experienced such moments either as a learner or teacher. I wanted to see a restoration of the “meaning, mystery, and magic” (p. 28) I first saw in adult education. I feel as though Fraser has warned me to remember and make place for wisdom and alternative ways of knowing, but I need guidance on how to do this. And so, I turn to Dr. Groen in this discussion as someone who both knows the historical context of adult education and has made extrarational ways of knowing a particular focus in her career.
As I review Elizabeth’s reflection on Fraser’s book, I see how easy it can be to slip into grief for the losses we have experienced in the field of adult education. And, paradoxically, while it is important to pay attention to the erosion of programs, the ever-encroaching commodification of workplace learning, and even the narrowing of learning pathways, we also, as elders in the field, need to cultivate a pathway of possibility for those who follow us. Indeed, Fraser rightly inquires into this exact paradox as she asks, “Might we be able to call upon some of the energy which Sophia has carried through the centuries by way of shedding some light and hope on the dangers and dilemmas we currently face?” (p. 137). This really is the call of wise adult educators—to unflinchingly and critically examine the rising populism in the world and its deeply disturbing impact on all aspects of our lives and to also illuminate “ways to revivify adult teaching and learning processes which encourage communal, as well as individual rejoinders to the problems that we face” (p. 166). While Fraser has provided a devastatingly compelling portrait of the deep-seated challenges we are facing as adult educators, this also needed to be balanced with more stories of hope and courage, so those new to the profession of adult education—out in the field and in the academy—would feel encouraged and empowered to move into spaces of adult learning to “help foster these alternatives and reclaim the kinds of radical and progressive narratives that marked the best of the adult education movement” (p. 174).