Editorial
Volume 37, Number 1, Spring 2005
Stretching or shrinking?
Miriam Zukas, University of Leeds, UK
(m.zukas@leeds.ac.uk)
The papers within this edition represent an even more divergent array of
perspectives on the education of adults than usual. In terms of content, they
range from a detailed analysis of lifelong learning within the popular North
American television series Buffy the Vampire Slayer through to the suggestion
that the contemporary use of ribbons for particular causes (pink for breast
cancer, red for AIDS and so on) is a form of popular education; such diverse
contributions raise, once more, the perennial question of what
‘counts’ as the study of the education of adults. They push – perhaps further
than ever – at the outer edges of Richard Edwards’ moorland of lifelong learning
and perhaps, for some readers, go too far? Do let us know.
For the last year these questions about what counts as the education of
adults have been rather too close to home (or should I say work) for comfort.
Within the UK, universities have, one by one, restructured their departments of
adult and/or continuing education out of existence. Now it is the turn of my own
department in Leeds. The debates within the UK are all too familiar: should the
state be supporting adults who wish to participate in higher education, or
should they focus on young people from disadvantaged backgrounds? What is adult
education or continuing education and how is it different from what other
departments already do? Surely we should be ‘integrating’ adult education into
all provision so that we have no need of specialist provision?
Why are research interests in the education of adults any different from
those in education, and shouldn’t we be merging those research interests,
particularly in view of lifelong learning? Surely everyone is a lifelong
learner? Is the education of adults the business of a university? And on, and
on... Readers from other countries will be familiar with the flavour of these
arguments, even if they take different historical and social forms elsewhere.
Of course, the study of and provision for the education of adults in
universities has always been fragile in the UK, particularly in England, as
events have shown. The fight for small spaces on the edges of universities (or
outside the walls) has been written about on more than one occasion in the pages
of this journal. But I am struck by the sharp ironies in my particular situation
when the discourses of widening participation and lifelong learning and the
concerns about what to do with an ageing population have never been so
ubiquitous.
One reason for this split between policy concerns and the world of
universities (certainly the world of research) emerged at the last meeting of
the Board of Studies. Collectively, we have noticed that we appear to be living
in parallel worlds: the world of research, as we know it, and the world of
government- or quango-sponsored research studies. Take, for example, a recent
study carried out by the Higher Education Funding Council for England (HEFCE),
which was concerned with inequalities in young people’s participation in higher
education (HEFCE, 2005). The 267-page report contained barely a reference to any
journal articles or academic texts (although there were many references to other
research reports published by the Department for Education and Science, or HEFCE
itself). This is not the place to discuss the merits or otherwise of the study
(one headline finding, for example, was that the 20 per cent of young people
living in the most advantaged areas of the country are five to six times more
likely to go to university than the 20 per cent of young people living in the
least advantaged areas of the country). But the issue is that increasingly we
seem to have policy formulated by research which is disconnected from the
broader theoretical and conceptual issues played out in journals.
Although regrettable, this state of affairs seems relatively benign compared
to the changes that seem to be dominating the funding of educational research in
the United States and elsewhere. In a recent article in the British Journal of
Educational Research, Patti Lather describes how, by funding only certain kinds
of educational research in the move towards ‘evidence-based policy and
practice’, the US federal government has made an incursion into legislating
scientific method. She outlines how, as far as federal policy research is
concerned, there has been a significant shift towards ‘randomised field trials’
as the gold standard in the evidence-based movement.
Although the ‘evidence-informed’ practice debate (notice the shift in the
discourse) is alive and well in the world of educational research in the UK,
there is no room for complacency. The more university and policy researchers
inhabit separate spheres, the less likely we are to be able to influence what is
recognised as ‘good’ research. The Board would like to encourage authors to
engage critically with policy-oriented research and we, in turn, will try to
maintain a watching brief on the ‘parallel universe’ in terms of reviews,
reviewers and contributions.
None of the articles in this edition would satisfy the requirements for
evidence-informed
practice. There may be those who would ask if some even satisfy the requirements
that they should be about the education of adults (one of the journal’s
criteria). Our reviewers (to whom we are eternally grateful) think they do. Each
author has received feedback (often copious) and responded to that feedback in
constructive and thoughtful ways to try to address the points made by reviewers.
This is a long process and at least one article has taken about two years to
reach publication.
However, despite their remarkable diversity, all five papers illuminate
issues raised by at least one other author through common theoretical themes
such as social capital, structural issues such as gender and class, and content
issues such as literacy. Jocey Quinn’s paper on the re-imagined university draws
from her research with both women staff in universities and women students; she
critiques the notion of learning communities (a phrase associated with
universities and other learning sites) suggesting that, for women, universities
are rather more spaces of imagined communities than they are real ones.
Alongside this idea of imagined communities, she suggests that the notion of
‘imagined social capital’ might extend our understanding of the ways in which we
conceptualise social capital, particularly in contrast to the everyday (mundane)
experiences of women in universities.
Pat Millar and Sue Kilpatrick’s paper also takes up the theme of social
capital, although this time within the context of community development. Their
work in Tasmania on community-based adult education programmes for disadvantaged
communities of women leads them to suggest that we have to reconceptualise
collaborative leadership as a process (rather than understanding leadership as
being distributed amongst individuals) which emerges from collaborations between
community members, groups, programmes and providers. Their ethnographic study
details a familiar world in which initial high levels of enthusiasm and
commitment tail off as women’s lives and previous educational experiences
intervene; requirements such as filling in forms and writing assignments
highlight literacy issues; national packages determine the curriculum.
By contrast, Pierre Walter’s ethnographic study of everyday literacy and
numeracy practices amongst women on a community-based literacy programme in a
small village in north-eastern Thailand suggests a rather different approach.
His research shows how we have to understand women’s literacy as embedded within
networks of family and community support, together with indigenous technologies
of oral and visual communication. This challenges ‘the normative construction of
our own valuing of individual literacy and numeracy’, and also focuses attention
on the ways in which cooperation, mutual dependence and the ability to draw on
and work within social networks can be seen as ‘new basic skills’. Taking the
two papers together, I am struck by the ways in which community-based
approaches, so much a part of Walter’s study, have constantly to be reinvented
in so-called developed countries. In Walter’s study, social capital provides a
solid basis for shared learning, whilst Millar and Kilpatrick’s study argues
that shared learning is the basis for the development of social capital.
Following on from her earlier work on romantic fiction, Christine Jarvis
argues that, as adult educators, we should look to popular culture to consider
the kinds of representations of education available to furnish the popular
imagination. Her take on the relationship of lifelong learning to the television
series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, is that the series presents institutional
learning for adults as destructive and suspect, and self-directed and dialogical
education as painful and potentially dangerous, but essential for survival. She
suggests that one of the reasons for the series’ preoccupation with education
lies in the audience’s often-painful experiences in formal education and the
difficulties of learning outside formal educational structures. Readers who are
unfamiliar with the series (as I was) should not be put off: Jarvis draws on
detailed analysis of several episodes to support her argument that we should
take culture seriously.
Similarly, Dorothy Lander looks critically at the cultural phenomenon of
wearing ribbons as popular education. Her wide-ranging argument threads through
the paper which connects medieval Christian crusaders with the contemporary
practice of ribbon-wearing, via the nineteenth century Canadian women’s
temperance movement. She suggests that colour metaphors serve to reinscribe
gender, class, race and religion-inspired symbolism into current consciousness
and popular education practice. Her genealogy of colours for ribbons and their
use at particular times by popular educators is fascinating, but raises serious
questions for the so-called ‘positive’ association between ribbons and social
movements. She challenges adult educators to ask questions about the
performativity of ribbon work: ‘Where is the problem-posing and reflective
learning from war among the citizens who tie yellow ribbons around trees . .
.?’.