Abstract
It’s all a question of story. We are in trouble just now because we do not yet have a good story. We are between stories. The old story, the account of how the [special education] world came to be and how we [teacher educators and researchers] fit into it, is no longer effective. Yet we have not yet learned the new story.
Avatar
In the Introduction to this special issue, Dukes, Darling, and Doan use the power of natural science and virtual world metaphors to stimulate thinking about 21st-century special education teacher development. Wyatt (2004) posited that metaphors serve cognitive, scientific, and normative functions, which can influence policy, theory, research, and practice. Thus, Wyatt argues metaphors are important, not only to thinking about the future but also to shaping it.
Casting special education teacher development as an avatar living in a virtual and changing landscape is a creative way to consider the current state of our field and project possible futures. Generally, Hill (2013) defined an avatar as “a social entity utilized in social environments; it can be still or animated, photographic or graphic; and it stands in for the user as a proxy” (p. 70). Unlike embodied agents, which are under the control of computer programs, people control avatars in real time.
In borrowing from natural science to illustrate how variant and invariant selection pressures come to bear on the Avatar and its evolution over time, Dukes et al. (2014) also invite us to consider the intermingling of internal and external pressures on the avatar as it confronts “an ever-changing environment, whether welcoming or hostile.” These numerous pressures include a wide range of elements, including overwhelming and changing expectations (our goals, accountability requirements, using technology), fewer resources (funding cuts, faculty shortages), and critical challenges (implementing Common Core, growth-based measures). Dukes and his colleagues remind us, too, of competing avatars (e.g., for profit colleges, Teach for America) that reduce our student base, as well as the promises of new tools and technologies to enhance the avatar’s effectiveness. In this way, Dukes et al.’s choice of the natural science metaphor serves a cognitive function, helping us think deeply about the future of teacher education by unveiling the perceptions, expectations, tensions, and uncertainties that influence it.
If we hope for the Avatar to thrive in this complex and changing world, we must take steps to invent its future. The Avatar might be conceptualized as what we hope for our field. As Duke suggests, “a great deal of work lies ahead,” yet we wonder, what is the most important work, how well are we are prepared to undertake this work, and specifically what should our agenda be as we strive to invent a better future? What aspects of the current special education teacher development do we wish to keep intact? Improve? Transform?
Obviously, answers to the above-mentioned questions are not easily forthcoming. In our commentary, we consider areas that may help strengthen the Avatar, including conceptualizing and identifying the outcomes of teacher education, and aligning teacher preparation practices to achieve these outcomes from entry into teacher preparation through induction and ongoing professional development.
Risky Business
McCall, Alvarez McHatton, and Shealey (2014) underscore the importance of assessing the quality of our graduates “such that they can predict their effectiveness once they are teachers of record in order to demonstrate to policy makers and key stakeholders the value of teacher preparation.” They call for a framework in special education teacher preparation that links special education teacher development over the continuum of initial preparation, induction, and professional development. These authors acknowledge the complexity in such work, given the “contextual factors of disability category and delivery format, as well as complexities related to race/ethnicity, social class, and urbanicity” (p. 23).
Delineating and adopting a framework requires that we have a shared understanding about the core of what we want our teachers to know and do in performance-based contexts. We wonder whether a shared set of special educator knowledge, skills, and abilities exists. Some would say yes, pointing to evidence-based practices, promising practices, and standards-based curriculum and pedagogy. Even if we agree that professional standards are the basis for evaluating teacher preparation outcomes, it is clear that we know little about how teacher educators operationalize these standards (Blanton, Sindelar, & Correa, 2006) and the evidence base for candidate assessment is thin (McCall, et al., 2014).
Perhaps the first step toward achieving conceptual clarity and reducing numerous threats involves revisiting the Avatar’s identity. Should the preparation of special educators continue as it does today or be focused on a new agenda? For example, Brownell, Sindelar, Kiely, and Danielson (2010) suggested that teacher preparation focus on the development of content expertise and teachers’ roles in implementing Tier 3 in response to intervention (RtI) systems. Moreover, they suggested that elementary and secondary teachers receive different preparation. Vernon-Dotson, Floyd, Dukes, and Darling (2014) raise the question of whether programs should continue to vary different aspects of preparation, for example, focusing on literacy or culturally responsive practices. Until we have clarity as a field about the work of special education teachers, it will be difficult to backward map to our courses and assessments in a way that is effective.
In revisiting the Avatar’s identity, it would be wise to consider the context of special educators’ work as working conditions impact teacher effectiveness (Johnson, Kraft, & Papay, 2012). Doing so would also serve a normative function by helping to establish more up-to-date expectations for real-world practice. Recently, the work of special education teachers has been described as fragmented, with the average teachers spending less than half of their time teaching (Vannest & Hagan Burke, 2010). Others have assignments that are burdensome and are unlikely to result in high-quality instruction. For example, Drame and Pugach (2010) stated that secondary teachers working in self-contained classrooms “are expected to demonstrate a breadth and depth of content expertise far beyond what any other secondary teachers must demonstrate” (p. 66).
Another threat to the Avatar is that it will be difficult or impossible to demonstrate the value of teacher preparation if special education teachers are evaluated using systems that are insensitive to student progress or include observation systems that fail to capture the complexity of teachers’ work. Also, when it comes to some performance-based assessments, “teachers are advantaged or disadvantaged based on the students they teach” (Darling-Hammond, Amrein-Beardsley, Haertel, & Rothstein, 2012, p. 10). We wonder where that leaves special educators, who are often charged with serving students who are the most difficult to teach. As Goe (2013) cautioned, feedback “based on poor or inadequate data may do more harm than good” (p. 26). Thus, strengthening evaluation models and standards and assuring that evaluators have the knowledge and skills to provide useful feedback to teachers is essential if teachers’ work is to yield greater student impact.
The Right Stuff
Vernon-Dotson et al. (2014) call attention to yet another ongoing threat to the Avatar’s existence—“for over three decades, teacher education has been under considerable scrutiny” (p. 4). Although Feng and Sass (2010) provided evidence substantiating the value of traditional teacher preparation programs, there is little doubt that the oft-disparate communities of practice, policy, and research have served more to strengthen the long-standing divide between what is taught in special education teacher preparation, induction, and professional development and what is done in real-world school settings (Greenwood & Abbott, 2001). Reversing this troubling trend entails, in part, inventing more effective 21st-century special education teacher development practices—especially when preparing special educators to teach effectively in challenging environments with colleagues and administrators who may be less than supportive. No doubt an arduous undertaking, we agree with Brownell et al. that the work begins by aligning teacher preparation, induction, and job-embedded professional development to ensure improved outcomes; and we are not alone. More than a few national reports have been released recently (see “Transforming Teacher Education Through Clinical Practice: A National Strategy to Prepare Effective Teachers,” National Council for Accreditation of Teacher Education [NCATE], 2010; “The Changing Teacher Preparation Profession: A Report From AACTE’s Professional Education Data System [PEDS],” American Association of Colleges for Teacher Education [AACTE], 2013; and “Our Responsibility, Our Promise: Transforming Educator Preparation and Entry Into the Profession,” Council of Chief State School Officers [CCSSO], 2012), pinpointing the need for stronger alignment, while also underscoring Dukes’s notion of the role that external selection pressures exert on the field during evolution. In this way, any efforts toward resolving misalignment can be viewed as investments in reducing external threats or selection pressures.
Achieving greater alignment hinges on creating a seamless continuum in which pre- and in-service special educators learn relevant content, knowledge, skills, and dispositions, not only through coursework and modeling but also through repeated opportunities to learn to apply them (with guidance, support, and feedback) in a variety of settings (see Joyce & Showers, 1982). In a review of course delivery methods in preservice special education programs, the authors Vernon-Dotson et al. (2014) spotlight specific selection pressures—the call to establish effectiveness, the push for content expertise, and the proliferation of various delivery models. Moreover, through the findings of their qualitative review of the relevant literature, they reveal emerging normative and scientific dimensions, which Dukes et al. alluded to with their introductory metaphors. First, technology use in on-campus and online course delivery is increasing dramatically. Second, there appears to be little to no difference between on-campus and online courses, a finding that yields important implications when designing the continuum of future learning platforms.
Although advancing efforts to develop and hone pre- and in-service special educators’ relevant knowledge, skills, and dispositions through on-campus and online training clearly represent a step toward developing more effective 21st-century special educators, Dukes et al. along with the other authors in this special issue remind us we must do more. We must align blended delivery with high-quality supervision and fieldwork, ongoing mentoring induction, and authentic, job-embedded professional development.
In this issue, Dieker et al. ascertain that special education teacher educators and researchers have fallen woefully behind in harnessing the power of simulation, pointing out that those in other disciplines (e.g., physicians, first responders, military personnel) have used virtual environments for some time to revolutionize training tactics. The advantages Dieker and her colleagues ascribe to virtual environments are undeniable, including but not limited to scaffolding teacher learning, facilitating decision making, personalizing pace, and promoting reflective practice. All are carried out in a safe and controlled environment, minimizing adverse practice effects on pre- and in-service teacher learners, while eliminating them almost entirely on the P-12 student population. By describing current and future uses of simulated environments, such as TLE TEACH LivE™, Dieker and her colleagues reinforce normative notions about technology’s role in aligning special education training and clinical practice.
No doubt virtual environments, such as TLE TEACH LivE™, afford a number of benefits. Still, underlying assumptions must be examined further if we wish for technology-enabled training to become the norm, rather than the exception in 21st-century special education teacher development. In the quest to support the evolution of special education teacher development and establish 21st-century norms, we wonder, too, about the need to distinguish performance expectations for novice, midcareer, and veteran teachers. How should scaffolding be differentiated when training in virtual environments and real-world classrooms? As Dieker et al. (2014) hint, this is especially important to consider when providing and aligning feedback during supervision and coaching. Yet, what remains unknown is how much time should be devoted to training and feedback when providing online or on-site bug in ear support in real time to pre- and in-service teachers. Should the amount of time allotted differ between virtual and real-world classrooms? Does everyone need to spend the same amount of time in each? How much and what type of feedback should be given to whom and when? Moreover, considering that teams of professionals often serve students with special needs, are classroom-specific skills the only ones that require modeling and guided practice with feedback? What about the knowledge, skills, and dispositions special educators need to design their roles and lead and participate in team meetings (e.g., RtI, Individualized Education Program [IEP], manifestation hearings)? What would scaffolding and alignment look like in these areas—from role-playing with delayed feedback to immediate bug in ear coaching during virtual and real-world meetings?
The natural science threats, Dukes et al. described as part of the introductory metaphor, are further reflected in the compelling case for technology-enabled training, such as virtual simulations, presented by Dieker et al. Specifically, Dieker and her colleagues caution that increased accountability tactics, such as value-added teacher evaluation and high-stakes testing, have diminished opportunities for pre- and in-service teachers to practice newly acquired knowledge, skills, in a variety of real-world settings. We agree that simulation training broadens the venues available for practice, thereby reducing one potential threat considerably. That said, we also acknowledge that accountability poses multiple threats to the 21st-century special education teacher development avatar. Technology-enabled training simply cannot alleviate each and every one.
Like Dukes et al. (2014), we think thwarting the many, varied internal and external selection pressures, in an era of unprecedented accountability involves measuring and evaluating the effects achieved through well-aligned special education teacher development programs. Twenty-first century special education teacher developers and leaders must also use measurement data with beginning, midcareer, and veteran special educators to measure progress, set goals, evaluate programs, guide decisions, determine effectiveness, answer important research questions, and construct an array of connected personalized learning networks (PLNs).
Final Thoughts
The metaphors Dukes et al. use in the introduction to this special issue along with the authors’ contributions provide new ways of thinking about special education teacher preparation, synthesize key knowledge bases, raise important questions for future research, and outline some of the promises that technology has to offer our field. No doubt, we face significant challenges and more questions than answers.
Undertaking high-quality studies in these and other areas is needed to pioneer a continuum of well-aligned training and clinical experiences as well as establishing a solid evidence base for technology-enabled approaches. Moving forward in this way also serves an invaluable normative function, as illustrated by Dukes et al.’s use of natural science and virtual world metaphors, in furthering the prominent roles technology and science should play in advancing 21st-century special education teacher development research and practice.
Clearly, leadership is also critical to moving the Avatar forward to prepare special and general education teachers to meet the needs of students with disabilities, to address the needs of an increasingly diverse student population, and to assure that school leaders are ready to support the needs of all students in their schools. Leadership is needed at all levels, from professional organizations, institutions of higher education (IHEs), and to practitioners who advocate for students with disabilities. This need was recognized by the Office of Special Education, U.S. Department of Education, which recently funded the CEEDAR (Collaboration for Effective Educator Development, Accountability, and Reform) Center (Directors Mary Brownell, Paul Sindelar, Erica McCray, University of Florida). This center provides technical assistance to support states in developing professional learning systems that “develop teachers and leaders who can successfully prepare students with disabilities to achieve college and career-ready standards” in inclusive environments.
In summary, this special issue begs the question, what will the new story be for special education teacher preparation? Will we succumb to selection pressures and allow others to determine the Avatar’s fate? Or, will we embrace the challenge and work together to take the action necessary for the Avatar to morph over time and prevail, paving the way for a brighter future for students with disabilities?
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.