The Institutionalization of a Teacher Corps Program: An Approach to the Evaluation to Innovation |
This study examines the process of institutionalization as it has occured for the Cross-Cultural Education Development Program (X-CED), an evolution of the Teacher Corps at the University of Alaska-Fairbanks. As an innovation which challenges many of the conventions of higher education, it is necessary to approach the evaluation of X-CED with a concern for appropriate methods and a consideration of issues of legitimacy in the institutional environment. A method for differentiating innovation and convention through an examination of core "exemplars" is developed. This analysis then provides a basis for recasting evaluation as a political process where innovative programs struggle to maintain those exemplars which make them different while achieving the legitimacy which makes them possible.
Cette étude examine le processus d'institutionalisation qui a été le cas du Programme de développement pour l'enseignement interculturel, émanant du corps enseignant de l'Université d'Alaska-Fairbanks. Comme ceci représente une innovation défiant maintes conventions propres à l'enseignement supérieur, il est nécessaire pour évaluer ce programme d'utiliser des méthodes appropriées et de considérer plus particulièrement les problèmes de légitimité dans le domaine des institutions. On a développé une méthode pour différencier le nouveau et le conventional grâce à l'examen approfondi d'"exemplaires" témoins. Cette analyse fournira alors de base pour considérer l'évaluation comme un processus politique dans lequel les programmes d'innovation s'efforcent de maintenir ces "exemplaires" qui les rendent différents tout en leur donnant la légitimité pour les rendre possibles.
The history of field-based teacher education at the University of Alaska-Fairbanks (UAF) dates from 1970 with the beginning of the Alaska Rural Teacher Training Corps (ARTTC). In 1975, ARTTC evolved into the Cross-Cultural Education Development Program (X-CED), and in 1980 X-CED became a part of UAF. Change resulting, at least in part, from the efforts and influence of X-CED led to the establishment of a new college, the College of Human and Rural Development (CHRD), in 1982. Within CHRD, the X-CED program continues as the field-based component in a new Department of Education. Both the field and campus programs build upon a curriculum beginning with general education, then teaching methods, and culminating with the student teaching practicum. However, X-CED is designed to deliver the complete curriculum on-site in the villages of rural Alaska and, as a result, relies upon unique perspectives and practices that often put it at odds with conventional university programs and policies.
Thus, after twelve years of struggle, X-CED has become institutionalized, at least on paper. Supporters of the program point to many accomplishments. The programme brought its own budget to the college, more than doubling the total budget for teacher education. The program has its own tenure-track faculty, most with doctoral degrees. A number of former X-CED faculty have moved into positions on campus. The curriculum is now common to both the field and campus programs and shows evidence of considerable influence from field-developed, cross- cultural perspectives focusing upon rural and Native issues. The program has produced more than 100 graduates, some of whom have since received advanced degrees. Approximately 75% of the graduates are now working in rural schools or other community programs. But despite this evidence, the program is frequently called into question. In 1984 a major program review was initiated within CHRD in an attempt to sort out the evidence on the current program and to serve as a basis for subsequent institutional planning. The evaluation itself raised further concerns that, despite "institutionalization," it was not clear that X-CED had yet found a home.
This paper examines the problems inherent in the "institutionalization" of an innovative program. Issues and analysis will be developed along two related lines. First, there is the need to understand the program itself, how it differs from the conventional campus-based program, and to identify important sources of conflict between the two. Second, the potential for evaluation as a tool for resolving these issues will be considered. The role of evaluation will be modified by a concern for issues of legitimacy, the common plight of innovative programs in institutionalized organizations. The discussion that follows is not a full analysis; rather, it is an attempt to illustrate, through example, an approach to the evaluation of this and similar innovative programs elsewhere.
As with other Teacher Corps programs, ARTTC had the broad mission of addressing educational deficits, in this case among the rural Native population in Alaska. The program began with ten field sites in "bush" Alaska, each with an average of six students. Campus-based faculty developed and delivered correspondence-style courses, with frequent trips to the field for direct instruction. A local teacher served as team leader, providing on-site tutorial support, There were also regular student meetings, both locally and statewide. At that time there were few telephones in the bush, transportation was difficult, and mail service was unreliable and slow. ARTTC operated on a general academic calendar, but with policies and procedures attuned to conditions in the bush.
Community representation, an important element of the Teacher Corps model (Corwin, 1973:23-24), was developed during the first two years of the program. Local involvement was developed with village councils who, in turn, sent representatives to a state-wide advisory group, referred to as the Community Council. When this group first met in April 1972, ten Native members represented each of the field sites involved.
Initially, sixty full-time students were recruited. Beginning students could be expected to graduate in four to five years. Others, with transfer credits from campus programs, correspondence study, or school system in- service training, would finish sooner. Financial support for students was generous, with the state of Alaska contributing nearly $600,000 in student stipends during the first year of operation.
The stated intent was to graduate as many of this original cohort of students as possible. The first group graduated in 1972, a total of twenty- one students, the second in 1974, bringing the total to forty-five of the original group of sixty. The first phase of the program was complete, and a new agenda and name, Cross-Cultural Education Development (X-CED), were created for the program.
With declining funding from the National Teacher Corps, representatives of the program sought more permanent support from state sources. In 1976, lobbying by alumni and community members resulted in legislative appropriation of continuing funds. This followed the "Molly Hootch" case, establishing the right of equal access to secondary education in rural Alaska1, and coincided with the state's "small schools" program. In 1980, the program would become a permanent part of UAF. Rural education prospered with the economic boom created by oil discoveries in the region.
With these events came a number of changes in the way the program operated. For the fall of 1974, the ARTTC field sites were reorganized into five X-CED regions, closing some of the original sites in the process. Two years later this became eight regions. Students were now scattered across each region in as many as five or six villages. The number of students increased to approximately 100. Students were no longer selected as members of a specific cohort but were recruited each semester as participants in an ongoing field-based program.
Team leaders were replaced by UAF faculty, recruited specifically to live and work in the field. These new field coordinators, as they were to be called, had responsibility for the operation of the program within their region: they developed and taught courses and provided tutorial assistance for students throughout their region. With administrative and academic support from UAF, they developed an accredited curriculum specific to X- CED. As a specific part of the X-CED model, field coordinators were expected to shape both program operation and the curriculum to reflect the needs and issues facing rural students and rural school systems. The faculty developed courses as a group process and relied upon each other for instructional support. Courses were delivered much as before, but with the majority originating from the field rather than the campus.
Regional and statewide student meetings continued to be held through 1982, but gradually travel and faculty salaries became the major categories in the program budget. Student financial support from the program ended in 1980.
The Community Council was retained and each region developed a local "panel" of community representatives specific to the program. The panels were responsible for overseeing the program within the region. They selected student participants from among regional applicants and participated in the selection and evaluation of field faculty. The Council became an influential voice for a rural Native constituency and was named as a special committee of the Alaska State Board of Education.
The National Teacher Corps program was an attempt at innovation in the provision of educational resources to to underserved or inappropriately served communities or population groups. The ARTTC program was clearly cast in tones of social change through the development of educational resources available to people in bush Alaska. While Teacher Corps programs varied considerably, their thrust was consistently liberal in intent (Corwin, 1973). The inferior education of Alaskan Native children was well documented (Fuchs and Havighurst, 1972) and provided a point of departure for the development of ARTTC. It is from within this context that X-CED has evolved, and the problem of institutionalization is best seen as a conflict between this heritage and conventional university life.
Institutionalization has brought with it many problems. For one, there is strain within the dual role of field coordinator/university faculty. This have been an unhappy marriage of the program pressures of field positions and the career pressures for scholarly research and publication within the university itself. Secondly, there is friction between campus schedules and procedures and those developed in the field. Distances, communication delays, and milieu differences make "time" itself an issue. The field lacks the infrastructure to accomplish many routine tasks, while the university relies upon institutional momentum (conventions) to ensure that schedules will be met, records will be filed, and that some common denominators of operation (e.g., teaching load) will be maintained. A third area, the budget, is also a source of conflict and mistrust. Money is spent differently in the field than on campus. For example, operating budgets on campus do not reflect the costs of buildings, utilities, and so forth, while in the field budget, the largest operating expense (except for salaries) is for travel. Rather than being a "discretionary" professional benefit, travel "buys" the equivalent of the classroom in the field program. Most importantly of all, these and other tangible sources of conflict serve as regular reminders of large disagreements over educational goals and philosophy.
The temptation is to attempt to list all of these various troubles and to seek solutions to each one independently. However, the futility of this strategy quickly becomes apparent with the recognition that the individual troubles are all interrelated and that the attempt to resolve any one problem seem contingent upon a solution to other problems on the list. Furthermore, many of the problems rest upon fundamental contradictions, either within the program itself or between it and the institution in which it now resides. Fine tuning the mechanism does not appear to be the approach needed.
The contradictory nature of the problems posed by institutionalization is illustrated by a specific example. In the fall of 1983, the Office of Institutional Studies at UAF, apparently as a part of its routine activity, presented a study which compared the course completion rates of X-CED and campus programs. It revealed that X-CED students completed a considerably smaller percentage of their courses each semester - 30%-40% - compared to more than 90% on campus. Upon examination of the report, X-CED staff discovered a revealing fact: In on-campus courses at UAF the grade of "F" constitutes a completed course. The practice in X-CED continues to reflect the philosophy of ARTTC, that is, students are either withdrawn from courses or granted an incomplete grade rather than an "F" (or, for that matter, a "D" or "C"). A failing grade is not consistent with either the goals or practices of a "competency based" program, and few F's are to be found on student transcript. A completed course in ARTTC/X- CED is considered a successful course, and the vast majority of grades received by students are A's and B's.
This example indicates more than a simple conflict over grading policy. At the heart of the matter is a profound divergence of perspectives and practices that characterize the nature of the "innovation" that lies behind ARTTC/X-CED and explains much of the conflict both within and without the program. This point about grades is just the tip of the iceberg; beneath the surface lies a host of contradictions. In fact, these conflicts taken together, support a view of ARTTC/X-CED as a challenge to the conventions of higher education, rather than as an innovation amounting to no more than a variation on a traditional theme.
There are important issues facing any attempt to evaluate an innovative program such as X-CED. First, we must examine the nature of the innovation; both what is claimed and what is actually done. Second, we must establish criteria, or grounds, as a basis for judgement. But, most importantly, we must not confuse evaluation with analysis; understanding and explaining the differences and conflicts does not equal an evaluation of the program. As Meyer and his colleagues (e.g., Meyer & Scott, 1983) have so persuasively argued, evaluation should be seen as political activity. When the call for evaluation comes among institutionalized organizations, of which higher education is a prime example, it is typically a challenge to legitimacy rather than an attempt to assess output (Meyer & Rowan, 1983a, p.41). Judgements about effectiveness, for example, are necessarily relative because they are evaluative.
Given that formal statements of goals and objectives are not always accurately reflected in the real activities and endeavours of any program, efforts are often made to get participants to define what they really do and what it means to them to be doing that (e.g., Bickman, 1987, Madaus, Scriven & Stufflebeam, 1983; Smith, 1981). Then a set of informal goals and objectives may be described and embraced as a better standard against which to measure the program. Goals and objectives always reside within a particular point of view.
For program evaluation this means that there exists no objective basis for assessing the relative merits of innovative and conventional programs. To be valid, the activities and accomplishments of a particular program must be measured in ways and against criteria that make sense within the framework of that program. To evaluate an innovative program from the perspective of tradition is to impose a conservative bias that would undermine change. To evaluate a conventional program from the point of view of innovation is simply to reify the value seen in the change itself., Further, there is no acceptable or sensible "meta" perspective available that can resolve the dispute through evaluating both programs. Like the common gestalt illustrations using figure and ground, there is no middle ground that allows the clear, simultaneous, unbiased vision of each.
Conventional programs generally have a political advantage over attempts at innovation by virtue of established "myths and ceremonies" and isomorphism with the existing normative environment (e.g., Meyer and Rowan, 1983a). It is innovation that bears the burden of proof. There is a bias towards standards of evaluation established in the context of conventional programs. Alternative standards of evaluation may not be well-developed (it takes time) and their legitimacy is clearly problematic: such standards are part of the innovation itself. Political pressure often leads an innovative program to take on conventional characteristics in order to display something measurable by existing standards.
It must be acknowledged that for the purposes of evaluation what is actually important are the "myths and ceremonies" and their relation (i.e., degree of isomorphism) to the environment in which they exist. Where what is claimed is more directly related to evaluation than actual practices, then standards for evaluation lie with the audience accepting those claims. Legitimacy, and ultimately survival, reside with the effective presentation of myths and ceremonies.
The well-documented tendency for the conventional to co-opt the innovative is especially strong where the innovative program has been unable to implement the basic elements of change necessary to the articulation of the program (e.g., Warren, 1971), or where the innovators can be persuaded to abandon crucial elements to achieve political compromise (legitimacy). Given the commitments involved, this sort of struggle is frequently bitter and divisive, leaving the innovative program in increasing jeopardy. There is a strong echo of this phenomenon in any discussion of X-CED.
While understanding alone is not sufficient as an evaluation of innovation, it is absolutely necessary; without clear analysis of the nature of the innovation and its relation to the conventional, no valid evaluation can occur. Furthermore, it is essential to examine specific concrete activities as well as statements of goals and objectives. An extension of Thomas S. Kuhn's (1970) notion of opposing paradigms will provide tools for this analysis. Analogously, innovative activities, here defined as radical change after the fashion of competing paradigms, are born by a group of adherents. This community may be fueled primarily by ideology, the substance of which is most readily translated into statements of goals and objectives. But like the practitioners of an immature scientific paradigm, the members are guided by shared examples of correct activity. It is these concrete actions, or exemplars, and the value commitments closely coupled with them that drive the movement for innovation along. This is the most basic unit of analysis available.
Exemplars are shared examples of concrete "puzzle solutions" and ,as such, are the basic building blocks of a paradigm. Exemplars provide an introduction to the community, showing how members interpret reality. Referring to these concrete elements of the larger notion of paradigm, Kuhn concludes, "this is the component of a group's shared commitments_" (1970:187).
The key to an understanding of an innovative program such as X-CED would appear to be the exemplar. As an example of how something important is done, the exemplar provides a demonstration of the focal activity of members and is the primary means of teaching the paradigm to a newcomer. A paradigm, then, is a collection of these examples and the values, models, symbols, etc., generated from them. An innovation can be understood as a commitment for change on the part of members, as an ideological claim offered in support of the change, even as a dew principle seen to be demonstrated in the innovation, but most of all it is an example of something done differently. Unless the innovation can be revealed tacitly in the example, the paradigm cannot be adequately understood (Kuhn, 1970:191-195).
Along similar lines, Smith (1981) has suggested the use of metaphors both for improving our view of programs and as a basis for developing appropriate methods for their evaluation. He would have researchers borrow metaphors from other fields, e.g., law, architecture, art. Doing so, he argues, would help to free up our perspectives from the tacit grip of conventional views. This would appear to be a step in the right direction when the task for evaluation is an assessment of innovative programs.
This conceptual step, however, does not take us far enough. Metaphors could provide a lens to help us see the subject of our evaluation more correctly. But rather than borrowing these lenses from other courses, method should be a basis for generating them concretely, not abstractly, from within the reality of the situation under study. We should approach the evaluation of innovative programs in the same way that an ethnographer approaches the field - learning to see the reality within. The researcher (as student) is taught the paradigm (innovation) through exposure to its exemplars.
In summary, Kuhn defines paradigms as a collection of "shared examples" and explains that "differences between sets of exemplars provide the community fine-structure of science" (1970:187). It seems clear that the evaluation of a paradigm, and the community it defines, rests upon an examination of its exemplars. We can employ this approach to reveal the sources of conflict and contradiction experienced by the X-CED program.
An old-timer with the program, going back to ARTTC days, often laments that the program is changing - for the worse. According to him the program used to "revolve around the student" and now, increasingly, the student is expected to "revolve around the program." There is a good bit of evidence to suggest he may be right.
In ARTTC, statewide meetings were frequent. Here students, team leaders and faculty met to review, rethink and renew. As Teacher Corps interns, students had considerable status within the program. Students were viewed as the capital of the program. Students not only took courses, they also sat as members of the Community Council, helping eventually to establish policy. These meetings have been curtailed as travel costs have increased.
Graduates are the currency of the program. Neither ARTTC nor X- CED has ever attempted simply to generate credit hours by offering courses. Students were, and still are, recruited and selected for a limited number of slots available in the program. This is the legacy of the cohort model central to ARTTC and the student continues to be the central exemplar of X-CED. The goal has been to fill a need for teachers in village Alaska, in specific places and, implicitly, in specific numbers. While the exact need has not always been well-defined, the program has been responsive to saturation of services in certain sites - the result being that program sites have been relocated. Institutionalization, however, places considerable strain upon this exemplar as rule and regulation slowly replace relations and process.
On campus at UAF, the primary organizational focus for most programs appears to be credit hour production. The "FTE" is the lowest common denominator for both planning and evaluation. Like most universities, statements of goals and missions make little specific reference to the need for particular graduates or the numbers sought. The major topic for discussion, and focal point for daily activity, seems to be courses, and, secondarily, curriculum. A concern for specific students is to be admired, but it is not tightly coupled to the institutional activity of delivering courses. Students "come to the university" and graduates are seen as a natural occurrence. This exemplar is anomalous to the ARTTC/X-CED paradigm; at a minimum, the scale of field-based teacher education would not permit application.
The continuation of the central place of the student in the current program can be seen in the typical experiences of a new field coordinator. The last stage of the hiring process involves presenting prescreened candidates to a particular regional panel, for an interview which results in recommendations from them regarding the final selection. All regional panels include student members. Further, prospective field faculty are aware that the panel, including students, will have a voice in their evaluation and that they serve in the region at the pleasure of the panel. Getting the job is equivalent to "entering the field." Historically, new faculty orientation in ARTTC/X-CED has focused upon the anthropological role and the socio-political context of rural Alaska, with much less time spent discussing how to develop and deliver courses in the field.
When new field coordinators first enter the village setting, their sole contact may be a program participant. Here, the student becomes teacher, training the outsider in the normative order and ritualism of village life. Without such help new faculty would not only have difficulty with social relations but may also be unable to acquire adequate housing. He or she would spend far too much money on imported food and other necessities and would not be prepared to deal adequately with the harsh winter conditions of the bush. This is the students' domain, professional status is inconsequential, and the new faculty member is largely dependent upon the relationship with students as a means to gain recognition in the community. Even relations with schools, the only professional arena in most villages, come through the connection with students.
This relationship and orientation to students is further reinforced buy the pattern of activity common to field coordinators. Much time is spent traveling village to village, to meet with students for tutoring and instruction. The interaction is mostly one-to-one, since a given village seldom has more than a few students and usually there are no organized classes for particular courses. With an average of fifteen students per region, the field coordinator comes to know participants as individuals. Further, the relations are not buffered by institutional structure but rather by the informal structure of family life and daily routines of the bush. This close view of the individual participant is compelling, typically resulting in a commitment to see that the program meets student needs, not vice versa.
With this experiential anchor in place, the commitment to a student- centered program is nurtured, although not without obvious strain. The conflicts and problems of institutionalization may be largely explained as the result of this struggle to maintain the "student as exemplar" while adopting many of the elements of normal institutional life in search of a viable place in the university. The dialogue is difficult at best, the conflict often bitter, for when the faculty from the field and those on campus discuss students they clearly have different things in mind.
Empirically, this exemplar is visible in the pattern of things program members do, and in the way these activities are passed on to new members. Conceptually, it is apparent through the limit it places upon the "degrees of freedom" for choices among alternative program activities. Barring mistakes in thinking, a logical extension of the exemplar leads the way; i.e., "if the student, then the program."
In conclusion, we must recognize that a valid understanding of X- CED is necessary but not sufficient to an evaluation of the program. It must be seen as an attempt at organizational innovation within an institutional environment, a situation characterized by normative conflict. From understanding the program, attention must expand to include an understanding of the institutional environment and its normative makeup. The focus of evaluation should be upon appropriate alternative sets of criteria as the means to legitimation of the innovation.
A few examples will help to illustrate this approach. First, consider the role of the faculty member/field coordinator. Faculty are a recognizable entity, with normative legitimacy in the educational environment. Moreover, faculty help to "de-couple" (Meyer & Rowan, 1983a:39-42) actual activity from the myths and ceremonies of higher education. The two enterprises are not independent, but there is no universal standard for measuring output, thereby leading to claims for schooling as opposed to educating (Meyer & Rowan, 1983b:82-84). The university leaves the determination of educational practices largely to the professional - the faculty member. As described above, while faculty are typically seen as researchers and teachers and scholars, field coordinators are actually spending their time traveling, tutoring, and administering a regional program. Claims are made for "curriculum development" and "cross-cultural research" in the name of field faculty, but the record of publications, for example, does not support the actual existence of this activity. Borrowing from Goffman (1959), field coordinators are faculty "frontstage" and staff "backstage." In the more than ten years that faculty have existed in X-CED, no one has been tenured while remaining in a field position. Despite a protracted struggle, the norm of scholarly publication continues to bring problems of legitimacy to X-CED.
Another example points even more directly to considerations of organizational environment. While the university has a traditional, even if sometimes troublesome, constituency, X-CED, has relied more upon special interests among rural and Native people for support. The future political power of Native people, less than 17% of the current population in Alaska, however, is uncertain. Many issues are involved, the two most prominent being economics and demographics. Alaska as a state has been built upon natural resource development. This has resulted in favorable economic conditions with a rapid acceleration of in-migration and social change. Anchorage, the largest metropolitan area at about 275,000, now has the majority vote in the state. When combined with the continuing political struggle over Native rights and the declining national concern for minority issues, it is apparent that the political strength of the rural and Native coalition may not be as robust as in the past. During the era of the Teacher Corps it was fashionable (legitimate) to attempt to meet the needs of the educationally needy. With out current national conservatism, this is not the case today. Clearly, X-CED could use additional sources of support.
There are many more issues that remain to be clarified regarding the relations among program exemplars and institutional environments, but these serve to illustrate the direction in which evaluation efforts can best be applied to innovative programs. By clarifying potential sources of legitimacy, actual program needs, and alternative claims, X-CED, for example, may be able to identify a viable niche in today's environment. While myths and ceremonies cannot stand alone, i.e., there must be some support for them in the actual activities of the program, new sources of legitimacy, new claims, may be found that rest on more generalized social norms. The trick is to find the best match (compromise?) between legitimating claims and program exemplars.
Finally, it is important to underscore the relationship between analysis and evaluation developed above. Evaluation research has evidenced growing recognition of what may be called its reality problem. Evaluation as an activity takes social science squarely into the political arena. While methods may continue to pose minor problems, it is guiding those methods that is the more formidable task.
Evaluation, while bound up in "myth and ceremony," must demonstrate some connection between claims and activities. Innovation, as a challenge to tradition, highlights the need for careful, insightful analysis. It also demonstrates that more than scientific understanding is involved in evaluation. As House (1980, p. 73) puts it, "_evaluation persuades rather than convinces, argues rather than demonstrates, is credible rather than certain, is variably accepted rather than compelling." Evaluation must take analysis into questions of legitimacy and must rely upon methods which clearly reveal the relationship between innovation, exemplars, and institutional environment.
Institutions of higher education are generally credited with being a source of change in modern societies, with new ideas as the stock and trade of faculty, and students seen as the carriers of innovation. Following Kuhn, we can appreciate the importance of exemplars for the development of innovation, and as a shared experience among the advocates for change. However, we must also see the inherent conservatism of these organizations in the face of challenge. We should expect and understand this conflict and strive to utilize evaluation to reveal and balance these forces of institutional change.
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