Abstract
Reading texts of historical educators and being informed about their works and lives can be inspiring and exemplary for future teachers. In this article, I explore the learning processes that occur when student teachers study the classics, using frameworks from different disciplines, including social learning theory, drama theory, Aristotelian ethics, cognitive dissonance theory, and a theory of historical imagination. The results show that the study of educators from the past can have a beneficial impact on professional virtues when the encounter is in depth and when the student can actively choose an educator who captures his or her imagination.
A story often functions as a bridge between theory and personal experience and is a tool for reflecting on one's own experiences. (Hans van Crombrugge, 2013: 68, my translation)
Introduction
Teacher training curricula often include a compulsory reading of classical pedagogical texts. This requirement is often underpinned by the argument that student teachers should understand how their profession has developed (Kirschner et al., 2018). Moreover, schools that recruit new teachers from Christian institutions of higher education expect the teachers to know the key pedagogical sources of the Christian tradition. Despite the considerable number of monographs and articles about the benefits of studying the history of education (e.g. Depaepe, 2011; Pols, 2007; Van Crombrugge, 2006), limited information can be found about the learning processes involved in this study. In this article, I explore theories that can help provide an understanding of these processes and identify the consequences for teacher education. I start with a biographical note that I use more broadly later in this article to illustrate the results.
At the completion of my master's degree in special needs education over 30 years ago, I became acquainted with the works of a German man who died 15 years before I was born. I am referring to Friedrich Von Bodelschwingh (1877–1946), who became famous for his resistance against the so-called euthanasia program of the Nazis (Brandt, 1967; Klee, 1985; Stolk and De Muynck, 1988). The murders of people with disabilities that started in the winter of 1939–1940 (Klee, 1985: 135) were the tryouts for the gas chambers in the Holocaust. Von Bodelschwingh did his utmost to influence Nazi officials in order to save the lives of people with disabilities in the Third Reich. As the director of Bethel, a well-known charitable organization with about 12,000 residents (comprising both clients and staff members), he was an influential person in Germany's Lutheran Church. An example of his interventions was his guidance of Dr Brandt, Adolf Hitler's court physician, through his institution. He arranged for Dr Brandt's encounters with people with severe disabilities. By doing so, he tried to convince Dr Brandt that those persons did not necessarily contribute to productivity but to humanity (Brandt, 1967: 202), called Die Macht der Ohnmachtigen (the power of the powerless), in the tradition of Bethel (Ronicke, 1951). For my master's thesis, I conducted research into the background of the German resistance movement; for that reason, I read all of Von Bodelschwingh's written works, read stories and interviews concerning him, interviewed relatives of victims, and so on (Stolk and De Muynck, 1988). From my experience, I had become familiar with all the details of Von Bodelschwingh's private and intellectual life. Once, I dreamed that I sat next to him in his study, personally interviewing him. It was so concrete that I saw his lips moving, heard him speak, and was able to touch his knees. The interesting question for my career as a child psychologist and philosopher of education is in what way this man has influenced my professional identity. In other words, has my scholarly encounter with a person from another era evoked some pedagogical virtues within me?
Of course, this question does not occupy the first place in biographical importance, but it is significant for teacher training or in a more encompassing way, for all training programs on education. Historical education as part of the curriculum is generally accepted. The approach to offering readings from the canon of thinkers in the curricula of educational sciences follows a long tradition where future teachers are familiarized with historical thinking about education (Berding and Pols, 2014; Bigot and Van Hees, 1955; Halleux et al., 2001; Kroon and Levering, 2008; Kruithof et al., 1982; Pols, 2007).
I have found no empirical evidence for the effect of studying historical persons, whether positive or negative. No search results were found by using the keywords “teacher training” in combination with “historical pedagogues” and/or “philosophers of education” and/or “effect”/“impact” (search in Google Scholar and JSTOR, 28 July 2017). However, there are several plausible reasons for promoting the study of historical educators in the context of teacher education. When students are instructed to be acquainted with historical thinkers, the students will implicitly hear the message that they are part of a tradition. They stand on the shoulders of giants (Bigot and Van Hees, 1955: 10; Kirschner et al., 2018; Murre et al., 2012: 9–17). The stories of historical persons can explicitly inform students about the development of pedagogical practices that otherwise would have been only implicitly transferred (Pols, 2007: 40). Encountering historical educators may help students understand the development of that tradition (Murre et al., 2012, 2014). The stories they hear and/or read help students resist the idea that concepts and practical tools are loose instruments that have emerged more or less by accident. Theories are not ideas on their own but originate from practical problems that educators have struggled with. By careful observation and reflection and by trying out teaching methods to determine their effects, educational professionals have built together a meaningful social practice (Bigot and Van Hees, 1955: 10; Van Crombrugge, 2006: 13). Studying the lives and the works of educators can help their successors put theories in meaningful frameworks.
The importance of studying the classics is challenged by teacher educators’ tendency toward workplace learning (McNamara et al., 2014). On-the-job training of teachers is supposed to be more effective than teacher training in universities. Knowledge about historical pedagogues is suspected of distracting the teachers’ attention from practice, but it is possible to argue for the opposite. In their profession, teachers will encounter rapid changes, such as new technologies, demographic shifts, and political hype. Higher education has to equip student teachers with the appropriate skills to critically interact with upcoming practices. In an era of change, teachers cannot rely only on the dos and don’ts in their schools. Student teachers have to become reflective professionals who can creatively and innovatively implement new insights and techniques in their classrooms. Paradoxically, in the constant need for innovation, a fresh orientation about the past is necessary. Modern professionals should be able to critically question why traditions have developed. “The ability to question what is being done, to not accept ‘we’ve done it this way’ as a legitimate explanation, and to reflect on possibilities for change that begin with the self, are the essence of a reflective practitioner” (Smith et al., 2014: 344). Considering what was done in the past to make virtuous choices for the current practice is not a matter of pragmatism. What was done needs to become morally embedded. Therefore, education can be called a “normative professionality” (Jacobs et al., 2008: 7). Professionals have to decide normatively how to intervene in daily situations in the classroom setting. Their decisions can proceed not only in a Christian-informed human direction but unintentionally in a nonhuman direction as well. Normativity is correlated with professional virtues. Pols (2007: 36) even argues that someone can only become a successful teacher when one's professionalism is permeated with the virtues of trust, patience, respect, wisdom, tact, courage, justice, and curiosity. These professional virtues are embedded in images of the good life – what is desirable for the learners and their future, for the well-being of the teachers themselves, and for the classroom culture. Future teachers typically develop such images during their training, and the task of teacher educators is to strengthen those images that reflect professional virtues. Here, the significance of historical educators’ biographies emerges. When a student teacher studies their lives and works, he or she encounters their professional virtues. These virtues were not developed from scratch but arose in the dynamics of trial and error or success and disappointment. The stories that tell these experiences may function as mirrors. Student teachers do not learn technical skills from historical pedagogues; they learn from the virtues embedded in the stories to which they are exposed (Pols, 2007: 40). By studying those pedagogues’ lives and works, the students’ ideals and desires can become more explicit. Historical pedagogues are supposed to be participants in virtual conversations with students – participants who can strengthen the learning process (Van Crombrugge, 2006).
Thus, my study aims to gain deeper insights into how learning processes occur that further develop these virtues. The results can be used to fine-tune lectures and improve the desired learning objectives. The outcome of the study can also be used as a framework for conducting empirical research into the impact of studying historical pedagogues.
Methodology
My study uses a narrative literature review methodology (Bryman, 2012: 110–111) in which biographical notions are inductively connected with theories. This method is based on an interpretive epistemology (Merrill and West, 2009). While other scholars might favor a single approach, I propose a matrix of five theories which, in my view, help identify the fecundity of an interdisciplinary perspective. The search led me first to the so-called model learning theory based on the ideas of Bandura (1969, 1986). Second, the ideas on identification (mentioned in the model learning theory) in turn brought me to some concepts used in drama and theater (Metz, 1982; Schoenmaker, 1988; Smith, 1995). The third framework describes the desire for excellence, derived from Aristotelian ethics (Sanderse, 2015). The fourth theory provides an insight into a person's need to bridge perceived dissonances, based on Sigmund Freud's psychodynamic thinking (De Wit, 1962). The final theory is derived from a metatheory of history (Ankersmit, 2005). After presenting the results, I discuss my findings regarding teacher education. I show that my theoretical search reveals both restrictions to and possibilities for the curriculum.
Results
Model learning and identification
I begin with the concepts of model learning and identification. Bandura, the founder of social learning theory, argues that identification is “a continuous process in which new responses are acquired and existing repertoires of behaviour are modified to some extent as a function of both direct and vicarious experiences with a wide variety of actual or symbolic models, whose attitudes, values, and social responses are exemplified behaviourally, or in verbally coded forms” (Bandura, 1969: 255). Interestingly, social learning theory does not restrict learning to encounters with living persons but also opens the possibility of identification with a symbolic model, which (when applied to my study) can be a historical person. This person cannot be encountered physically but can only be symbolized in a picture, a story, or a written text. According to the theory, the observed behavior does not have to be that of a living person, but the learner can also be exposed to a verbally coded example or an illustration of what could occur in a certain context (consider texts or quotations). What transpires is explained by social learning theory as follows. A person observes a particular behavior (using his or her imagination), and in doing so creates a mental representation. This representation serves as a mental guide when the person tries to reproduce the behavior in a situation that is more or less similar to what he or she has observed. The reproduction can be reinforced by a reward or inhibited by a punishment, which is subsequently internalized by the observer.
Does social learning theory imply that every person can be an identification figure? Erikson's (1959) model of psychological development provides an answer. He stresses that a developing individual feels attracted to persons with similar traits, attitudes, and behaviors, sharing the individual's aims or desired social position. An individual can feel an emotional or a cognitive alliance with the role model with whom one compares oneself. This feeling motivates the person to increase the resemblance by observation and imitation. Identification enables the person to build a set of expectations about what one aspires to become or how one desires to behave. Erikson stresses that the identification process diminishes in adolescence when the identity formation starts. Imitating others is no longer satisfying because individuals want to create their own world.
Finding a historical person appealing can happen by coincidence. For example, when John Henry Newman (1801–1890) had the task of writing the history of church councils, he became so fascinated by Saint Athanasius that instead of doing his proposed job, he wrote a monograph on Arianism and Athanasius (Ford, 2012: 11). In my case, I encountered Von Bodelschwingh, thanks to a research project on giving meaning to a life with disabilities, in which I was offered to participate. This encounter happened more or less by accident. During my study, I became increasingly fascinated by his work. I was really grateful as I found myself called to study children with special needs and virtually met someone with a passion for such children.
The presented theories might suggest that in social learning and identification, the subject is passive. However, other authors stress the opposite; identification involves an active construction of the ideal model. The selection of role models is based on individual aims and desires. Gibson (2004: 136) describes role modeling as “a cognitive process in which individuals actively observe, adapt and reject attributes of multiple role models.” According to this role-modeling theory, the learner actively constructs an imaginary role model by combining several observed persons' characteristics into a personal ideal image.
To summarize, theories of model learning and identification offer three notions that help provide an understanding of the learning process involved in studying historical educators. These notions are the adjustment in the learner's own behavior toward the mental representation of the observed person, the attraction to the similarities observed in the historical person, and the learner's active role in combining the observed behavior with his or her own. Unsurprisingly, the model learning theory emphasizes the change in (operant) behavior.
Drama
The second framework is derived from the arts. A historical person whom a learner encounters by studying his or her work or hearing stories about it and reading his or her texts can also be perceived as a main character in a theatrical play or a film. The observer will likely identify with the main character when the camera focuses on the latter's perspective (Metz, 1982). The same case is true for narratives. Empirical research shows that listeners of narratives are inclined to adopt the convictions of the protagonists if the stories are told from the latter's perspective. The British film researcher Murray Smith (1994, 1995) prefers “character engagement” over “identification.” He distinguishes between two processes that engage the observer. The first is empathy, a psychological process in which the observer involuntarily becomes so involved in the observed character's situation that he or she can feel similar physical and emotional reactions. Such was the kind of involvement that I expressed in my dream about Von Bodelschwingh. Sometimes, empathy turns into mimicry, the unconscious physical response that mirrors the character's emotions or actions. It may also result in deliberate simulation, in which the unintentional total involvement with the character is picked up consciously.
The second type of response is sympathy. In this process, the observer understands the emotions of the main character based on his or her circumstances. In sympathizing, the observer is aware of the character's emotions and can distinguish these from his or her own. The observer in this case can have emotions other than those of the character. For example, whereas the character suffers pain because of an accident, the observer (remembering an accident that he or she personally experienced) may fear having an accident again (being afraid is a different emotion from feeling pain).
According to Smith (1995), a story or a drama should cover three levels to evoke not only empathy but also sympathy. I mention these levels because they are instructive for professional learning processes. The first level makes the observed character recognizable by repeatedly depicting him or her with certain characteristics. The second level provides the observer with information about the observed character's actions and feelings, enabling the observer to perceive oneself from the character's perspective. The third level is that of allegiance, which makes the observer understand from which normative framework the character operates. “Allegiance depends upon the spectator having what she takes to be reliable access to the character's state of mind, understanding the context of the character's actions, and having morally evaluated the character on the basis of this knowledge” (Smith, 1995: 84). When applied to teacher training, the three-level approach suggests that learning from a historical person is more fruitful when this person's life and work are studied in depth than when only sections from books are read. The story has to be presented completely to elicit the student teacher's sympathy. Sympathy will enable the learner to transmit elements of the studied person's story to his or her own understanding of professional life.
Another film and drama scholar, Schoenmaker (1988), distinguishes between two types of identification: similarity and desire. Similarity identification occurs when the observed memories resemble those of the spectator. Desire identification happens when a person aspires to become like another. The latter type (that a teacher can find out by asking a student, “Would you like to experience what the main character experiences?”) is supposed to trigger a behavioral change in the identifying person. I illustrate this case with a story about Von Bodelschwingh that I read during my studies. Its author describes how the main character treated a severely disabled person: Ulla was one of our poorest children. Indeed, physically she was healthy and yes, unusually powerful and skillful. She could also be sweet at times. However, she was mainly obsessed by a seemingly wild, evil spirit, becoming very agitated, outrageous, and dangerous. Once, when she was quite ill, she behaved as meekly as a lamb but was absorbed by melancholy. She lay there, withdrawn and dismal, and we were unable to console her in any way. Pastor Von Bodelschwingh entered the house and as always, inquired about who was experiencing the greatest misery. We guided him to Ulla, who looked at him in a hostile manner. Nonetheless, he knelt by her bed, stroking her and speaking to her in his own special way for a long time. The tortured expression disappeared from Ulla's face, and at once, she smiled intensely, and her eyes were bright. The pastor then said, ‘I thank you for this good smile, you dear child.’ As he was leaving, she looked at him longingly; she would have liked to remain in this great love. (Ronicke, 1957: 56, my translation)
Mastery and excellence
The third framework relates to similarities between the professional challenges of the person who studies historical educators and those experienced by the latter. “Once, persons [i.e. historical educators] [had] dedicated themselves to a better education, had reflected on it, had reported on it and had inspired others” (Van Crombrugge, 2006: 13). Thus, student teachers are not the first ones dedicated to their job; in the past, other people started to be engaged in teaching. Because of the comparable professional context of student teachers with that of their predecessors, studying the classics can be inspiring. Reading a text by a historical figure or a story about him or her can be compared with an apprentice who observes his or her master busy in craftsmanship. The master excels in fulfilling his or her task, and the apprentice tries to acquire similar skills. This situation entails observing a higher standard of professionalism than a learner has witnessed so far. The observations evoke the learner's desire to attain that standard. In terms of Aristotelian ethics, the student attempts to reach the praxis of his or her master (Sanderse, 2015). What the master does belongs to the ultimate goal that a student can attain on earth. To reach his or her destination, the student has to explore what specific competencies are necessary. The student should observe the more technical skills (poièsis) required in the master's work. The student can then conclude that these skills increase the probability of his or her success. He or she will thus strive to experiment with the observed skills. This task demands more than just imitating a certain behavior or adjusting a student's own behavior, as suggested in social learning theory.
Van Crombrugge (2006: 13) warns us that we should not expect the classics to solve our problems because it is highly unlikely that the problems encountered by the historical figures are similar to ours. Nonetheless, someone who intensely imagines becoming like his or her master unconsciously acquires emotions that bring him or her into a position to adopt the desired behavior. From the examples shown by the master, the apprentice observes how pedagogical virtues are put into practice. A variety of historical educators can demonstrate a range of virtues, such as justice, compassion on disabled persons, recognition of others' gifts, patience, self-control, and humility. In my case, Von Bodelschwingh offers an example of excellence in his courage and perseverance in defense of the weakest. I can indicate a link from his biography to my own professional practice. In front of a class of students, I am often aware of my duty to pay full attention to the low achievers. My conviction that the weakest students need most of my efforts can, in a way, be traced back to my in-depth study of Von Bodelschwingh.
Resolving the dissonance
The fourth theory deals with how a learner's identity is related to resolving perceived dissonances. Developing a virtue is an authentic process in which a person expresses his or her genuine touch. Professional virtues are not shown by the protocol-wise emulation of another's behavior but by personally responding to the requirements of a situation. This authentic flavor is not self-evident. According to Freud (as cited in De Wit, 1962: 5), identification involves the desire to become exactly the same as the identification figure (“Er möchte so sein wie er” [“I would like to resemble you”]). However, identification is both unrealistic and undesirable. It is unrealistic because everyone is unique and cannot become a copy of another person. It is undesirable because the process of maturity requires coming from a distance. Developing a new identity means incorporating a quality observed in others (socialization) into a new pattern of finding and giving meaning. The student can productively transform the tension between his or her desire for identification and his or her task to become an individual with a new unique (professional) identity. He or she is expected to be able to solve the cognitive dissonance between the desirable goal and what is not yet attained (Festinger, 1957). Sometimes, the student will be deeply committed to what is perceived, where the solution is to acquire the characteristic of commitment, along with the excellent observed behavior. Sometimes, the process of overcoming the discordance will lead to decisions about keeping a certain distance from the model; the way that a student wants to work will assume quite different characteristics. In both cases, aspiration is elicited, which is often called inspiration. A learner is urged to understand matters differently and to act differently. According to Van Crombrugge and Meijer (2004), the challenge in reading historical texts lies in reconciling the divergence between the unfamiliar historical context and the student teacher's own professional job in education.
I illustrate this point again with an autobiographical reflection. In my teaching of the philosophy of education, I compared current phenomena in society with the scientific developments that prepared and conditioned the violence of the Nazi regime. From a philosophical perspective, the struggles in the 1930s and the 1940s resemble some patterns confronting the people of the present day (Horkheimer and Adorno, 1972). In the Nazi era, scientific insights about races and the origins of mental disorders were transmitted into an intervention program to eliminate problematic elements in society. Interventions with similar features are occurring now in educational and healthcare institutions. With the help of scientific knowledge and technical instruments, contemporary society tries to avoid the existence of disabilities and implicitly reduces learners to machines that have to produce certain outputs. Von Bodelschwingh is a kind of a prophet for me because he understood the devilish rational thinking of the Nazi system. The study of his lifetime has helped me discern some differences and similarities between the past and the present eras. The dissonance between what is expected (we do not live in the Nazi era but in times of more humanity) and what is observed (patterns of inhumanity) has made me aware that systems could be entangled in a spiral of evil, which could occur with the strong support of (at first glance) neutral scientific research.
Historical imagination
So far, most of the discussed frameworks have derived some elements from psychological theories. The psychological understanding of these theories is applicable because of the similarities between meeting a currently living person and virtually meeting a historical person. The historical sensation makes the encounter with a historical person different and particularly valuable in comparison to observing an existing person (Ankersmit, 2005). In encountering a historical person or situation, something can occur that cannot take place when meeting a living person. The former evokes the imagination, especially when the observer visits the space where the person used to live and work. When I walked through Bethel and sat in the archive room to find out the details of Von Bodelschwingh's life, my imagination was in a fully active mode, even more than if I had been able to personally interview him. The historical person's physical absence compels the student to imagine what could have happened and what the person could have done, just as a child does when listening to a story. The process of imagination elicits new desires in the direction of the habitus of the historical person or strengthens the student's desire to acquire the excellence of the historical person. This process occurs in a way that poses no risk of copying because no concrete, visible behavior can be imitated. Consequently, the distance needed for maturity is guaranteed, and the desire for personal excellence is strengthened. Van Crombrugge (2013) calls the encounter with stories from the past “transformation.” A story has transformative power because it brings the reader closer to himself or herself and simultaneously nearer the pedagogical reality in which the reader will work and/or that he or she will understand. Stories describe something instead of being confined to explanations. They shape a world in which the learner can be fully occupied or even be absorbed. This transformative power of imagination is important because the student teacher's professional judgment still lacks the character of adjusting laws to concrete situations. Instead, professionals in the classroom have to sense the uniqueness of the situation with which they are confronted, so they can find out how they can understand its background. The virtual encounter with a historical educator can be perceived as a form of training of the imagination.
Discussion
Each theoretical framework contributes in its own way to the understanding of how the study of historical educators can evoke and strengthen professional virtues. Social learning theory shows that an observed behavior can be integrated into the observer's own behavior via mental representations. Identification is more likely when there is a similarity between the observer and the historical educator and when the learner situates himself or herself in an active position. The drama theory states that by having sympathy, someone can adjust their understanding of life in the direction of virtue. To acquire sympathy, knowledge of the studied subject's background is necessary. Drama theory also reveals that the development of virtues is more likely when the historical educator is studied in depth. The Aristotelian ethics preaches learning from excellent examples. The studied person functions as a virtual master, who demonstrates how to act pedagogically in a brilliant manner. Cognitive dissonance theory describes how a person bridges the gap between the known and the unknown, and it stresses that identification, understood as imitating, is undesirable and even impossible. The insights from a metatheory of history shows the importance of imagination. Educators from the past may evoke a historical sensation because of the distance in time. Remoteness has the ability to arouse imagination more than current examples.
How can the frameworks described in this article help teacher educators improve pedagogy for acquiring professional virtues? I draw conclusions from each of the five frameworks. Social learning theory clarifies that the student teacher will profit the most when he or she encounters a person whom he or she finds fascinating. Moreover, the theory shows that teacher educators have to count on an active process of model learning. The student teacher will construct his or her own professional identity by combining the traits of different persons. The characteristics of living persons (a tutor, a supervisor, and a teacher educator) may be integrated into the student teacher's existing understanding and behavioral pattern. The learner may additionally internalize a historical person's unique features. The three levels of drama/film theory show that a presentation of the historical person's in-depth story should be preferred over a fragmented encounter with quotes or texts. The student should repeatedly encounter the traits of the studied person; the former must be informed about the details of the studied behavior and needs sufficient information to understand the normative reasoning of the historical educator. This approach means that the historical educators about whom students will be informed should be carefully chosen because not every biography is instructive enough to evoke virtues in students. The Aristotelian ethics explains that the historical educator must have demonstrated excellent mastery in a similar educational context. The most promising example would be an educator who had attempted to solve a problem and had experimented with new options in a curriculum and pedagogy. Key figures, such as Saint Augustine, Jan Amos Comenius, and John Henry Newman, have become important thinkers in the field of education because they solved either a theoretical or a practical problem. Those problems can still be recognized as key issues today. The mentioned persons were able to explain the problems with the help of a Christian-informed view of life. Moreover, their works manifest congruency between their teaching and practice. The cognitive dissonance theory shows that the historical context should be strange enough to awaken the sense of a gap to be bridged. The historical story should pose a challenge by its peculiarity. Teacher educators should not suggest that the historical educator has to be imitated. Instead, they should promote the idea that the readings should result in an authentic appropriation in the professional framework. Finally, the concept of historical imagination makes it clear that the story and the text should have sufficient openness to foster imagination. On one hand, a historical person's lifetime must have enough dramatic episodes that make imagination possible. On the other hand, the student must be drawn into the narrative by the openness of the story.
The theories that I have discussed also reveal a couple of limitations. First, historical educators are not perfect and also have their negative aspects. Some choices in their lives and works may not be exemplary. Studying historical figures might even be perceived as a tricky adventure because of changed cultural standards. Past educators are sometimes suspected of being responsible for abuse and violence by their followers later on in history. Augustine was regarded as causing the repression of sexuality, whereas Luther was considered a proponent of antisemitism. Others may have had less remarkable but irrefutable faults. For example, I discovered to my amazement that Von Bodelschwingh's work indicated implicit support for the eugenic speculations of his contemporaries. Historical figures' faults and vices could be viewed as disadvantages from the perspective of striving for excellence. I suggest considering these facts carefully because we risk reasoning anachronistically about some conduct that was triggered by extraordinary cultural and historical circumstances. Another reason for choosing a nuanced approach is that their faults reveal figures from the past as persons of flesh and blood, easier to identify with than blameless people.
Second, the history of education can evoke virtues but can never substitute for the training elements of teacher education. The study of historical educators has to be used because of its potential but can never stand on its own. The results of the learning processes at stake here cannot be placed on checklists of learning goals. The use of educational history aims at learning the unexpected because it does not promote general teaching skills but the unique features of professional identity.
Conclusion
The practice of studying historical educators is often grounded in the assumed benefits for teaching practice, for example, offering student teachers a more profound understanding of their future profession's own tradition. From the presented theories, I conclude that the history of education should not just function as a means of coloring or illustrating its background but can significantly contribute to the growth of pedagogical virtues. A profound effect can be expected because historical figures are able to evoke the imagination that accords with a teacher's developing professional identity more than living mentors can do. Although historical figures can never help with skill training (which takes a lot of energy in teacher training), they can still serve to support learning processes at a deeper level. The integration of the history of education with teacher training must be highly recommended. The virtual encounter with educators from the past will help elicit pedagogical virtues if certain conditions are provided, including in-depth encounters, a variety of figures, and the possibility for student teachers to choose historical persons with whom they will most likely identify. The study of professional predecessors will strengthen the student teachers' personal identity and deepen their professional sensitivity.
Footnotes
Declaration of conflicting interests
The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
