Abstract
A standard component of any health profession’s code of ethics addresses the expectation that the health professional will commit to professional development. Article II, Section 1, of the “Code of Ethics for the Health Education Profession” reads: “Health Educators maintain, improve, and expand their professional competence through continued study and education; membership, participation, and leadership in professional organizations; and involvement in issues related to the health of the public” (Coalition of National Health Education Organizations, 2011). And Section 4 of this same Article reads: “Health educators contribute to the profession by refining existing and developing new practices, and by sharing the outcomes of their work.”
A major decision during the gestation of a health profession’s licensing, certification, or registering is not if professional development activities are needed but how much in a given period and what is the mechanism for quality assurance in the professional development. The National Commission for Health Education Credentialing (NCHEC) has made professional development a priority as evidenced by a standing board (Division Board for Professional Development), which is responsible for oversight of the Certified Health Education Specialist (CHES) and Master Certified Health Education Specialist (MCHES) recertification and annual renewal procedures, but more specifically recommends policies and procedures related to the designation of continuing education providers and the individual’s recertification (NCHEC, 2016). Additionally, NCHEC has a number of quality assurance processes in the area of continuing education and has historically committed to a certification process that encourages ongoing and high-quality professional development of its members. For example, NCHEC in 2008 sought its first-time approval for the CHES certification from the National Commission for Certifying Agencies (NCCA) for meeting the standards to ensure the health, welfare, and safety of the public (NCCA, 2016). NCHEC has met the essential elements of NCCA’s high-quality program standards through two approval cycles of CHES and one for MCHES, and these standards de facto require ongoing continuing professional education and development.
Similarly, the Certified Public Health (CPH) professional has to recertify every 2 years, earning credits that focus on continuing education and professional development opportunities. The Board notes that “the CPH recertification process is meant to foster life-long learning, professional development, and promotion of the public health profession” (National Board of Public Health Examiners, 2016b). Additionally a CPH professional agrees to uphold the CPH Code of Ethics. This code de facto has the professional participating in continuing education and professional development by the requirement to “maintain competency requirements through recertification” (National Board of Public Health Examiners, 2016a).
An inherent part of being a “professional” and being a part of a profession assumes that one will make a commitment to lifelong learning and improvement. Elevating our knowledge, skills, and behaviors through lifelong learning, which includes professional development, is part of the norms or values of a profession (Forrestal & Cellucci, 2016).
It is hard to imagine any health care or public health professional arguing against the standards and requirements set by quality assurance agencies and employers for professional development. However, it is fair for each of us to self-exam whether or not we are meeting these requirements in a perfunctory manner. Are we setting stretch goals in our professional development plans? Are we improving in all of the four major functions of professionally prepared health education specialists—Teaching, Research, Practice, and Service? As mentioned in my message from the editor in chief in our inaugural issue of Pedagogy in Health Promotion, these four major functions are not necessarily mutually exclusive and one need not be expert in each area or unable to accept the duties of several (Gambescia, 2015). As we move through our careers, we should be watchful for professional development opportunities that invite us, or maybe we need to push through to, functional areas that have become distant.
In this issue of Pedagogy in Health Promotion, I am pleased to include a deeply reflective piece by Lawrence Green (2016) who wrote about his experience as an academic who went back and forth between the world of academia and the fundamental practice of health promotion. Creatively titled “Turnstile Careers Between Academia and Practice,” Green explains the immense value for “periodic immersion” of university faculty to fundamental health promotion practice positions. Quite candidly Green admits that changing a career trajectory, especially in the academy, in hopes of valuable professional development returns is risky and unnerving. As with moving through any worldly turnstile, one hopes that after time spent in another area the turnstile will not be locked when returning home. To raise our confidence for this creative and high-quality approach to professional development, Green took the time to research and validate the experiences from a score of accomplished health education and public health professionals. While each experience of his colleagues could be a unique and interesting story on its own (Those are encouraged to write!), there were several common outcomes to these turnstile experiences. First, these individuals went through the turnstile with not only much excitement but also a bit of trepidation. Second, these individuals benefited immensely from going back to a health promotion practice position; it enhanced their research and teaching and reinvigorated their appreciation for the field. Third, their careers did not suffer; they accomplished much after the turnstile experience.
As educators, we should hold a deep awareness of our functional quartet of Teaching, Research, Practice, and Service. Our titles and responsibilities may change, but we can still hold to the fidelity of these four functional areas. For example, qualifiers that have crept into university faculty titles, such as “teaching,” “research,” “auxiliary,” “clinical,” and so on, have little symbolic value and risk dividing faculty in a university, even if psychologically. More important and given the discussion above, all faculty at a university and at all ranks should be expected to be “teachers,” and all faculty should be expected to be “researchers” or “scholars” at some level. Admittedly the balance between and among our four roles can be matters of degree and the expectations measured and rewarded as such, but to place qualifiers for either one risks disparaging another. To illustrate with a teaching versus research faculty roles focus, this disparagement can run both ways. “Research faculty” at a university should not disregard their sense of teaching, and “teaching faculty” should not be senseless about their obligations as a researcher and scholar. One obligation we traditionally have after earning a PhD is to move from a consumer of knowledge to a producer of knowledge. In fairness to many who have been launched on a “research track,” they may not be as comfortable with the teaching role as each cohort historically notes: “Nothing, or nobody, in my doctoral program prepared me for a high level of teaching.” This is true in almost all doctoral programs, regardless of discipline, but this “badge” of neglect need not be awarded. The traditional rankings for faculty suffice; giving qualifying role labels such as teaching, research, or clinical breaks the solidarity we share for the importance of all four roles we aspire to as educators in higher education.
Similarly, the turnstile journey for faculty has great rewards in the very visible, but esoteric, area of health promotion policy. Health promotion practitioners working in the policy arena take on one of the general roles of analyst, advisor, or advocate. What better way to sharpen policy analyses skills than working in “real communities” and in “real time” (Green, 2016, p. 221) on the often controversial health policy issues. If one returns to teaching from the turnstile experience in health promotion policy with even one health policy case study that was experienced live, the mentoring for one’s health promotion students in this area should be more remarkable. Green concludes in his robust reflection: “A field of practice calls for teachers with practice experience” (Green, 2016, p. 235).
The health education specialist teaching in today’s universities is ideally an amalgamation of the four roles of Teaching, Research, Practice, and Service. Such a persona seems unreasonable in the movement for professionals to become ever more specialized. This turnstile approach to professional development as chronicled by Lawrence Green’s experience and the many others in his article is worth a try!