Abstract
This article proposes utilising the theory of practice architectures to uncover and make explicit the beliefs and implicit theories of early childhood educators, as well as to examine the conditions out of which they have emerged. The beliefs and implicit theories of early childhood educators influence many early childhood practices and play a significant role in guiding the pedagogical experiences of children. Aimed at identifying elements of practice that constrain and enable praxis, the theory of practice architectures has been effectively applied in tertiary, secondary and primary education, but has had limited use in early childhood education contexts. The article explores its potential for helping educators better articulate their practices and applies the theory to examine a number of discursive, material and social influences that shape (and are shaped by) early childhood practice. Implications for early childhood educators’ praxis are framed in the context of contemporary challenges of early childhood education.
Introduction
Deeply embedded beliefs and taken-for-granted discourses act as unspoken or ‘silent narratives’ (Bone, 2008) that can enable and constrain the practices of early childhood educators (ECEs) and, ultimately, the experiences of children in early childhood education (ECE) programmes. Many ECE practices can be traced to the implicit theories and ‘naïve’ beliefs of ECEs arising from past experiences, personal values and common sense (Brownlee et al., 2000; Degotardi and Davis, 2008; Spodek, 1988). In a sector comprising a predominantly female workforce, these beliefs can be compounded by deeply embedded maternalist discourses of women’s natural mothering instincts (Ailwood, 2007: 163). In addition, prevailing views of childhood and children can impact on the day-to-day practices of ECEs in subtle ways. Woodrow and Brennan (2001) caution that when left unexamined, these views of children have the potential to blind ECEs to the realities of the children’s experience and reinforce stereotypes and power relationships, for example, between adults and children, and between children.
Relatively recent developments in theory, policy and practice in ECE have highlighted the importance of identifying and articulating the ‘silent narratives’ of ECEs and examining their effects. For example, growing interest in post-structuralist and critical theories has encouraged ECEs to identify and interrogate their ‘silent narratives’, deconstructing taken for granted and naive beliefs to look for better ways to ‘do good’ for the particular children with whom they are working (Lenz Taguchi, 2006: 260). Considerable policy interest in the provision of integrated or multi-agency early childhood services (Wong et al., 2012) has also resulted in expectations of ECEs to increasingly articulate the theories and motivations that underlie their practice, to professionals from other disciplines. It is timely, therefore, to consider frameworks that may assist educators to unpack the beliefs underpinning their practice.
This article proposes that the theory of practice architectures (Kemmis and Grootenboer, 2008) can provide a way of uncovering and making explicit the implicit beliefs of ECEs and so help educators think about and articulate what drives their practice. Practice architectures are the sedimented ‘mediating preconditions’ that frame, enable and constrain practices (Kemmis, 2008: 20). According to the theory of practice architectures, the mediating preconditions of sites of educational practice shape (and are shaped by) the practices of individual practitioners. Grounded by a view of praxis as ‘good’ practice that forms and transforms both the individuals involved in the practice and the worlds in which practices occur, the theory of practice architectures helps explore the work of teaching, learning and leading (Kemmis et al., 2014). According to Hardy (2010), the complexity of the notion of practice architectures makes it capable of incorporating various elements of practice, which operate more or less obviously in relation to one another. As a result, it is useful for examining the complex set of embedded assumptions and beliefs found within contemporary ECE practice.
This article has four main sections. The ‘Use of the theory of practice architectures’ section refers to the literature regarding use of the theory of practice architectures, as a touchpoint to exploring some possible applications of the theory to ECE. The ‘Features of the theory of practice architectures’ section discusses a number of the key features of the theory of practice architectures and introduces the language of the theory. The ‘The practice architectures of ECE’ section explores how ECE might be seen through a practice architectures lens, to exemplify how the theory can help bring to light some of the implicit influences on ECEs’ practices. Examples of how these influences might manifest in practice are used to illustrate how the embedded preconditions of early childhood practice may enable and constrain the individual practices of ECEs. Finally, in ‘Conclusion’ section, a brief discussion of the strengths and limitations of the theory of practice architectures leads to some concluding thoughts.
Use of the theory of practice architectures
The theory of practice architectures has been used in a range of educational research contexts to examine the particular constituents of, and influences on, practice in tertiary (Hardy, 2010; Hemmings et al., 2013), secondary (Kemmis, 2008; Kemmis and Mutton, 2012) and primary education (Edwards-Groves et al., 2010; Kemmis and Mutton, 2012). To the best of our knowledge, the theory of practice architectures has only been used in ECE in one study, which focused on ‘research circles’ as a method to examine leadership in preschools in Sweden (Rönnerman and Olin, 2014). The following section reviews aspects of three studies that have used the theory of practice architectures in educational research, as a way of highlighting its potential usefulness for ECE.
In their study of education for environmental sustainability (EfS) practice, Kemmis and Mutton (2012) used the theory of practice architectures as a conceptual and semantic framework for breaking down and identifying the constituents of EfS practices. For example, they identified elements of the characteristic language of EfS practice such as ‘thinking green’ and ‘thinking sustainably’ (p. 194). By examining how people ‘inhabit’ the practice architectures of EfS, Kemmis and Mutton (2012) found the language emerged out of discourses of sustainability and ecology, and were then able to determine the efficacy of enabling positive change in the field within these discourses. ECE literature and research have increasingly been engaging in similar processes of deconstruction in relation to conceptions of childhood (Cannella, 1997), professionalism (Osgood, 2006) and developmentalism (Lubeck, 1996; Ryan and Grieshaber, 2005). Perhaps, as a result of this progression, many important contemporary learning and curriculum documents urge ECEs to deconstruct and identify elements of their practice in similar ways, including their naïve and implicit beliefs. According to Lenz Taguchi (2006), deconstruction of implicit beliefs and taken-for-granted assumptions is an act of ethical resistance against the power of the familiarity those beliefs bring. ECEs can use the theory of practice architectures to examine the constituents of their ECE practices by first identifying their implicit beliefs and taken-for-granted assumptions. Once these elements have been unpacked, ECEs can then reflect on, analyse and critique (Lenz Taguchi, 2006) the resulting social and power relations between children, adults and families, and how they might enable and constrain the ECE experience of all involved.
To date, the theory of practice architectures seems mostly to have been used in the analysis of data and theoretical grounding of educational research. Hardy (2010), however, used concepts within the theory of practice architectures as stimulus for discussion among his research participants, but made the distinction that these participants were highly motivated and engaged thinkers actively choosing to be a part of these discussions. We propose it is possible to use the theory of practice architectures in ECE research in a similar way, that is, using the concepts as a framework to stimulate discussions with groups of ECEs about often unexamined elements of practice. Involving practitioners in collaborative research paradigms has been shown to be beneficial and successful in ECE research. For example, Brock (2013) elicited the thinking of ECEs regarding early years professionalism, to help provide insights into participants’ knowledge, beliefs and practices. Similarly, Lenz Taguchi (2008) facilitated ECEs in questioning their own practices through ‘deconstructive talk’ as a way to challenge their taken-for-granted and universalistic ideas and practices. By drawing on the concepts of the theory of practice architectures as a stimulus, possibilities arise for engaging ECEs in discussions that elicit their implicit theories and taken-for-granted beliefs. As such, the theory offers a practical and collaborative way of accessing the underlying elements of ECE practice and examining the conditions out of which they arise.
Edwards-Groves et al. (2010) study illustrates how the theory of practice architectures itself reflects post-structuralist thinking in that it facilitates non-linear and fluid connections between elements of practice such as individual practitioners and sites of practice, between conditions of practice and between the practices themselves. For example, Edwards-Groves et al. (2010) identified teachers’ practice of using a predetermined script for teaching reading which impacted on subsequent practices including what the teachers said and did, and how they were able to relate to the students. In this example, application of the theory of practice architectures helped highlight the intertwined nature of how practices unfolded (Edwards-Groves et al., 2010). By facilitating multiple links between the theoretical, practical and relational elements of practice, the theory of practice architectures fits well as a lens for conceptualising ECE. For example, Australia’s Early Years Learning Framework (EYLF) (the national learning framework designed to enhance young children’s learning in ECE contexts), describes the holistic nature of ECEs’ practice as incorporating curriculum decision-making, teaching, learning and nurturing relationships (Department of Education Employment and Workplace Relations (DEEWR), 2009). The theory of practice architectures could be well suited to application in contemporary ECE practice landscapes where consideration of multiple elements of practice, both subtle and overt, is necessary, and more easily managing the multidirectional influences of and on practice is beneficial.
Features of the theory of practice architectures
The notion of practice architectures emerged out of conversations and critique of traditional conceptions of praxis of an international cross-institutional, collaborative research programme, that is, the ‘Pedagogy, Education and Praxis’ network (Smith et al., 2010). The theory of practice architectures incorporates and extends on a number of central tenets of practice theory. These theoretical influences include Aristotelian and Marxist conceptions of praxis (Kemmis and Grootenboer, 2008), Schatzki’s (2002) constituents of practice and the distinction between individual ‘learning architectures’ (Wenger, 1998) and sites of social practice and learning (Schatzki, 2002). The underlying influences on the theory of practice architectures will be discussed in the following section, before unpacking the elements of the theory of practice architectures in greater detail.
Praxis
Conceptually underpinning the theory of practice architectures is a view of the importance of ‘educational praxis’ as a particular kind of ‘human and collective action’, by which ‘good individuals and good societies are formed and transformed’ (Kemmis, 2010: 21). The key elements of this conception are grounded in an Aristotelian notion of praxis as action that aims for the good of individuals and humankind, and a Marxist notion of praxis as action with moral, social and political consequences (Kemmis et al., 2014). Often, though, educators’ motivation to act for the ‘good’ can be enabled or constrained by the conditions in which their practices are enacted. According to Kemmis and Smith (2008), ‘praxis is endangered in education today’ (p. 5) as a result of the potentially constraining conditions of educational practice influenced by laws, policies, rules and procedures. Furthermore, Kemmis and Smith (2008) believe that when practice becomes simple rule-following, the moral agency of educators is at stake and they become an operative of the system in which they work. From this perspective, praxis is, in part, dependent on the ‘practice architectures’ of sites of practice and educators must negotiate these mediating preconditions critically if their aim is to act as agents of the system rather than operatives.
Constituents of practice
The theory of practice architectures extends Schatzki’s (2002) notion of practices as ‘a set of doings and sayings’ (p. 73), to make the relational element of practice more explicit (Kemmis et al., 2014). Central to the theory of practice architectures then is a conception of practices as ‘sayings’, ‘doings’ and ‘relatings’, which are enacted by individual practitioners. These sayings, doings and relatings act as an expression of the relationship between practitioners and their particular practice, that is
a relationship in which the participant speaks the language characteristic of the practice (sayings), engages in the activities of the practice in the set-ups characteristic of the practice (doings), and enters relationships with other people and objects characteristic of the practice (relatings). (Kemmis et al., 2014: 31)
By adding relatings, which are a central element of all educational praxis/practice, the theory of practice architectures seems to represent a more comprehensive view of the elements of individuals’ educational practices. These individual practices are said to incorporate the dispositions of the practitioner that are shaped by past experiences and in turn shape current practices (S Kemmis, 27 November 2012, personal communication). The individual practices of educators, however, are just one part of educational practice. For a more holistic view of educational practice, consideration of how individual practices interconnect with the site of practice is necessary.
Individual and social elements of practice
According to Nicolini (2012), Heidegger helped in reversing the Cartesian tradition of placing the individual subject as separate to their social context. Heidegger’s notion of ‘always alreadiness’ proposes that the way individuals encounter the world is already shaped by social influences that prefigure what they can do in it (cited by S Kemmis, 27 November 2012, personal communication). The influence of this idea as an underlying premise of the theory of practice architectures provides a way of conceptualising the multidirectional flow of, and influences on, practice between individual practitioners and their sites of practice. By viewing the individual practitioner and the site of practice as ‘dialectically related and mutually constituted’ (Kemmis and Grootenboer, 2008: 55), the theory of practice architectures states that the sayings, doings and relatings (practices) of individual practitioners, shape and are shaped by the prefigured ‘practice architectures’ of the site of practice. In this way, the theory of practice architectures incorporates Wenger’s (1998) idea of ‘learning architectures’ (i.e. practice as a product of individual learning in the structures of a setting) with Schatzki’s (2002) notion of practice as sites of socially organised activities. According to Schatzki (2002), these ‘sites of the social’ (p. xi) are constituted of bundles of practices and arrangements of people, artefacts and thing. The theory of practice architectures organises these ‘arrangements’ of practice as follows: cultural-discursive, material-economic and social-political.
Arrangements of practice: the practice architectures that enable and constrain
According to Kemmis et al. (2014), ‘The practice architectures that enable and constrain practices exist in three dimensions parallel to the activities of saying, doing and relating’ (p. 31) and appear in the form of cultural-discursive, material-economic and social-political arrangements. These arrangements are central to the theory of practice architectures. The following section discusses the conceptual underpinnings of these arrangements of practice and uses findings from Hemmings et al.’s (2013) study to illustrate how they can enable and constrain the practices of educators and experience of their students.
Cultural-discursive arrangements
The cultural-discursive arrangements of educational practice are said to be the ‘handed-down’ educational knowledge and language, acquired by educators (Kemmis and Grootenboer, 2008). These cultural-discursive conditions are realised in the sayings of practitioners that are characteristic of the practice. Through the language or specialist discourse used, the shared and often taken for granted understandings practitioners draw upon are used to describe, interpret and justify the practice in enabling and constraining ways (Kemmis et al., 2014). For example, Hemmings et al. (2013) identified that lecturers worked within discourses of ‘inclusive education’. These discourses were framed in policies and realised in sayings such as ‘a strong social justice perspective’ and ‘medical and deficit models’ (p. 479). The discursive arrangement of inclusive education both constrained and enabled what was relevant to say and the subsequent meanings made by all involved in the practice.
Material-economic arrangements
The material-economic arrangements of educational practices relate to the physical and economic arrangements that shape what educators do in practice (Kemmis and Grootenboer, 2008). These material-economic arrangements are realised in the activity of practitioners’ characteristic doings and work of the practice. Through elements of educational practice such as the design of a room, available resources, the wages of educators and socioeconomic status of students, these arrangements enable and constrain what is done in the course of practice (Kemmis et al., 2014). Among the constraining material-economic arrangements of particular universities, for example, Hemmings et al. (2013) found ‘tiered lecture theatres presented difficulties for students with mobility challenges’ (p. 485). This prefigured material arrangement of the practice of higher education enabled an unobstructed view for some students and constrained some students’ access to the same experience.
Social-political arrangements
The social-political arrangements of practice position educators in a web of relationships including, for example, with their partners, parents, friends, community, children and colleagues (Kemmis and Grootenboer, 2008). These social-political arrangements of educational practice are realised in practice through power and solidarity as the relatings of practitioners. Incorporating relationships with the non-human world such as resources and furniture, the social-political arrangements of practice all to some extent determine access to and consideration of ideas (Kemmis and Grootenboer, 2008). For example, Hemmings et al. (2013) found that university teaching arrangements often positioned students with certain needs as ‘exceptions’ rather than part of an ordinary range of human diversity. Seemingly at odds with discourses of inclusion mentioned earlier, this social-political arrangement constrained the way lecturers and other students related to students with particular needs.
The theory of practice architectures highlights the interdependent and interwoven elements of practice, whereby the practices mediate the relationship between the individual and the social sides of practice. The particular characteristics of a social site of practice, for example, resources set out in a room, prefigure, and thus enable and constrain, practices ‘even before a particular practitioner arrives on the scene’. (Kemmis and Grootenboer, 2008: 19). According to Kemmis (2008), it is when the cultural-discursive, material-economic and social-political arrangements become sedimented rather than fluid that they mediate what is and is not possible for educators and ultimately their ‘students’. Furthermore, Kemmis (2008) considers that practice architectures frame and construct not only possibilities for action and practice, but also shape the self-understandings and subjectivities of the practitioners. Similarly, the individual characteristic practices and (inter) subjectivities of the practitioners have the potential to shape the practice architectures of a particular setting. As such, a feature of the theory of practice architectures highlights how creating the social and institutional conditions that will support improvements in the practice of education, is as important as improving the praxis and practice of individual educators.
The practice architectures of ECE
From a theory of practice architecture perspective, in considering ECEs’ taken-for-granted beliefs and the often hidden elements of their practice, it is necessary to consider the arrangements in which their personal experiences and dispositions developed. By examining the practice architectures of ECE, it is possible to uncover the ways ECEs ‘inhabit’ those practices architectures, in their characteristic sayings, doings and relatings. In the following section, we apply the theory of practice architectures to ECE and examine the ways particular arrangements of ECE shape and are shaped by, practices that might enable and constrain the good of individuals and society.
Cultural-discursive arrangements of ECE practice
A pervasive and influential cultural-discursive arrangement that prefigures ECE practice is the centrality of discourses of motherhood. These maternalist discourses are realised in the sayings and language of practitioners. For example, the language of ‘care’ in ECE and of working with young children as ‘caregiving’ is associated with mothering in the home (Rockel, 2009). This caregiving role can often be seen to rely on maternal instincts and personal experience, which Moss (2006) and Aitken and Kennedy (2007) argue can perpetuate an image of the worker as a substitute mother. Broström (2006) points out that the concept of care is often more related to practical rather than educational experiences. From this perspective, being a ‘caregiver’ potentially constrains the possibilities of the role and identity of ECEs as qualified and knowledgeable education professionals. On the other hand, moves in Australia to ‘professionalise’ ECE by adopting the term ‘educator’ rather than ‘carer’ in Family Day Care contexts, for example, have been challenged (Cook et al., 2013). This example highlights Broström’s (2006) reflection on the importance of the way the concept of care is defined. This distinction, in turn, highlights how shared understanding of ‘sayings’ can shape the cultural-discursive arrangements of particular sites of practice.
Another important discursive arrangement of contemporary ECE practice involves discourses framing the ‘image of the child’. These discourses are realised in sayings such as images of children as needy, able, vulnerable, or innocent. Woodrow and Brennan (2001) contend that the images ECEs work with have ‘become so naturalized, so taken-for-granted, that questioning them often makes us uncomfortable’ (p. 25). In part, the difficulty may be compounded by the competing/concurrent images of the child that ECEs hold but might not be aware of – those ‘silent narratives’ and implicit beliefs that enable and constrain both their own and the children’s experiences. For example, Dalli et al. (2011) found that teachers held concurrent images of very young children as competent and citizens of the world, and as vulnerable and needing protection and guidance. These images were realised in sayings such as children being ‘intrinsically motivated’ and educators being an ‘emotional anchor’ (Dalli et al., 2011: 5). The power of these sayings to potentially enable and constrain the subsequent practices of the educators was illustrated in whether they moved to assist the child in their learning or wrote themselves ‘out of the learning equation’ (p. 6). This example reinforces the notion that the images of children adults hold push them to behave in certain ways, orienting them as they talk to the child, listen to the child and observe the child (Malaguzzi, 1994). It also exemplifies how cultural-discursive arrangements prefigure subsequent practices in enabling and constraining ways.
Material-economic arrangements of ECE practice
The regulatory bodies that govern ECE contexts are among the most salient material-economic arrangements of practice in ECE. The material arrangement of regulations and standards are realised in the doings of ECEs. In Australia, for example, the mandated doings of ECE include programming, adhering to regulated amounts of space, using certain kinds of cleaning products and maintaining educator ratios among other operational requirements (Australian Children’s Education and Care Authority (ACECQA), 2013). These requirements have a clear place in maintaining certain standards of ECE practice and ‘quality’, but at the same time can pose as barriers to ECEs’ praxis. For example, Fenech et al. (2008) found ECEs had ‘critical and mixed views’ (p. 43) about how the regulatory and quality bodies within which they operated could actually undermine the quality of their work. ECEs commented on large amounts of paperwork necessary to meet regulatory requirements and the need to apply for permission, and so justify the need, to use resources (such as rocks) that did not adhere to regulations (Fenech et al., 2008). They recognised that the regulations might be warranted in part, as rocks can potentially pose risks to children’s safety. Mostly, however, they felt the regulation hindered their ability to focus on other equally important areas of practice, that is, the children’s learning experiences with the rocks. The example highlights how the material-economic arrangement of regulations that prefigure practice, can both enable and constrain what those who occupy the practice spaces can do in very real ways. In applying for permission to keep the rocks, however, the ECE demonstrates the agency of ECEs motivated to do ‘good’ for the children and consequently shape the practice architectures of their site of practice.
Another very real material-economic arrangement of ECE practice includes the low wages and unfavourable conditions of ECEs in many ECE contexts worldwide. This material-economic arrangement is realised in the doings of ECEs. For example, low wages are said to be associated with high staff turnover rates in ECE services (Jovanovic, 2013). Among the consequences of this pervasive economic arrangement of ECE practice, is a concern that low wages reduce the quality of services provided (Ackerman, 2006; Australian Government, 2011). Ailwood (2007) contends that the low remuneration for those working in formal ECE settings is essentially due to an undervaluation of ECE and the resulting policy decisions regarding funding for ECE wages. Intrinsically connected with this economic prefiguring of ECE practice, is an undervaluing of younger children in society in general and in educational systems of learning in particular. Bailey and Meltzoff (2001) point out that society does not support paying educational professionals who work with younger children the same amount, even though they are well qualified, which they see as a case of ‘juvenile ageism as ingrained economic policy’ (p. 50). Ultimately, the material-economic conditions of ECE practice have the potential to shape what educators do and do not do, impacting on the experiences of all stakeholders.
Social-political arrangements of ECE practice
The relationships and roles ECEs have with children, families and their colleagues, are a central feature of ECE and among the social-political arrangements that prefigure ECEs practice. The social and political arrangements of these relationships and social interactions, are realised in the relatings of all those involved in the interactions. Inherently tied to social-political arrangements of practice is a consideration of the power within those relationships. In ECE, power relationships exist between educators with different roles and qualifications, among children, between educators and children, between educators and parents, and between early childhood researchers and participants of ECE research. These power relationships have been questioned and critiqued as issues of voice, equity and power are raised in current research relating to ECE (Clark and Moss, 2011; Johansson, 2011; Lenz Taguchi, 2008). An example of thoughtful consideration of relationships between people, ideas and spaces in ECE is evident in the pedagogical practices of Reggio Emilia in Italy. According to Dahlberg et al. (1999), a ‘profound understanding of young children in relation to the world’ (p. 274) is central to these pedagogical practices. Furthermore, a belief in reciprocal meaningful relationships among educators, children and families, combined with a fundamental view of children as holding legitimate rights to a ‘good’ education, places all those involved as powerful equals in Reggio Emilia (Malaguzzi, 1998). The practices of Reggio Emilia exemplify the motivation of ECEs to examine the ways their relationships with children, staff and spaces enable and constrain their relatings with them.
The social-political arrangements of a site of practice are realised in the relatings of individual practitioners. An important feature of practitioners’ relatings stems from their life experience of social connections, that is, what they value, the groups to which they belong, and the solidarities they feel (Kemmis and Grootenboer, 2008). A point of solidarity for ECEs has been the difficult and ongoing struggle for recognition of their professional status (Ortlipp et al., 2011). This struggle, or perhaps even the need for it, is a pervasive social-political arrangement of ECE and highlights how, as mentioned, the elements of the theory of practice architectures can be interrelated. That is, the ongoing struggle to establish professional status has possibly emerged out of the constraining cultural-discursive and material-economic arrangements of ECE mentioned earlier, for example, devalued maternalist discourses underpinning ECE, low wages and so on. Combined with a stand of advocacy for the democratic rights of children, this solidarity has filtered through in the call for active professional ECE voices in political arenas (Cheeseman, 2007; Press and Skattebol, 2007; Sumsion, 2006). It seems, ultimately the aim is to shift what have been constraining arrangements of the social-political conditions for practice, to best enable subsequent ECE practices for the good of individuals and societies.
Conclusion
In summary, the theory of practice architectures is a useful tool for examining the educational practices of ECEs. The language and concepts of the theory is helpful for identifying the particular constituents of practice and examining the conditions through which they are realised. While the theory of practice architectures has mainly been used in analysis of educational research data, the conceptual framework lends itself to use as a practical guide in participatory early childhood research, and as a tool for ECEs to reflect on their everyday practices. The multidirectional flow between elements of the theory of practice architectures takes into account many elements of ECE practice, that is, discursive, material, relational, individual and social. An additional strength of the theory of practice architectures is that it is context specific, in other words, it is grounded in a belief of the importance of particular contexts of sites of practice and individual practitioners. Consequently, drawing on the theory of practice architectures necessitates consideration of the particularities of ECEs and ECE contexts rather than painting sites of ECE practice and educators with broad universal strokes. In doing so, the risk that provision of ECE is ‘accompanied by uniformity and normalisation of thought and practice’ (Dahlberg and Moss, 2005: vi) is greatly reduced.
Given that there are always limitations to what a theory or way of thinking has to offer, however, it could be said that applying the theory of practice architectures to examination of ECE practice is constraining in itself. As Kemmis and McTaggart (2005) note, research methods aimed at ‘seeing’ practice ‘both illuminate and obscure what the research and the researcher can see’ (p. 572) of practice, perhaps by limiting thinking to the particular concepts and features of the theory or methodology being used. In addition, the theory of practice architectures is grounded in the belief of striving for praxis in educational contexts and of engaging in efforts to facilitate ‘flow’ through the sedimented architectures of practice. In reality, however, there are a number of ECEs for whom ECE is simply a job rather than a professional call for good action. Given the tiered nature of the ECE workforce and the often-poor material-economic and social-political conditions of practice mentioned above, it is unfair to assume all ECEs are motivated to engage in praxis. According to S Kemmis (2 May 2014, personal communication), the subjectivity, identity and agency of a person is the hinge between praxis and practice. As such, expecting all educators to draw on the theory of practice architectures themselves might be unrealistic. Educators must be motivated to put the ideas into practice (Fleer, 2003; Rockel, 2009).
Applying the theory of practice architectures to ECEs’ practices at a time when ECEs are increasingly required to articulate their professional knowledge and expertise, for example, in integrated early years services (Edwards, 2009), is beneficial. Given the policy interest in integrated services, which has re-emerged as a focus of contemporary international political attention, ECEs are working closely with professionals from other disciplines who all bring with them their own architectures of practice. According to Cumming and Wong (2012), among the consequent challenges of interdisciplinary work is a lack of shared understandings of taken-for-granted terms and assumptions, along with the potential for ECEs voices to be silenced within ‘professional hierarchies’ (p. 131) of interdisciplinary teams. Taken together, these have the potential to constrain the value of ECEs and the teams’ overall cohesiveness/effectiveness. As a result, application of the theory of practice architectures to help elicit ECEs thinking and inform the conversations in interdisciplinary teams is especially valuable. Identifying and articulating important elements of professional practice using the theory of practice architectures, places ECEs well to share their contemporary child-centred and strengths based knowledge within the new policy and practice landscape of working across disciplines.
As has been demonstrated, using the theory of practice architectures to uncover the naïve beliefs and implicit theories that influence ECEs’ practice, can help illuminate what is previously hidden in a way that is useful for ECEs and for those involved in their professional development. In turn, helping elicit ECEs voices can shape the arrangements of practice in which they work in enabling and progressive ways. This shift in expression can lead to the knowledge and expertise of ECEs being actively sought in wider political arenas (Brock, 2013). At the heart of helping educators think about and articulate how their individual practices might be shaped by (and shape) the complex practice architectures of ECE, is ultimately children’s experience in ECE contexts and their right to optimal pedagogical learning programmes. As such, using the theory of practice architectures to ‘expose impediments to, and promote the development of, praxis in different educational settings and in relation to a variety of educational issues as they emerge’ (Smith et al., 2010, p.2) can serve important practical and philosophical purposes.
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) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This research received no specific grant from any funding agency in the public, commercial or not-for-profit sectors.
