Action Research: The Alchemy of Change

Abstract

Practice melds with inquiry. Trial and error merge with instinct and common sense. Teacher and learner compound as investigator. This is a curious form of alchemy, one void of metal and mineral, yet infused with newly-born knowledge. In the educational world, we name this alchemy action research or distinguish it as practitioner inquiry. Despite the labels assigned, this manner of exploration remains a transformational device for the classroom. It has the potential to change instructors, learners and adult education as well. there's a problem, it's not only one person's responsibility to solve it, said Beth, a spirited 20-something GED apprentice who beats me to my desk each day mean, doesn't it make sense that the more research a teacher does, the more she learns? And, we (students) could be part of something, instead of being the ones who are left out. If it's going to help people learn, why not give it a try,? she added. I gave it a try, as Beth suggested. Two studies, three presentations and innumerable ideas later, action research is an emblem of my adult basic education practice. It represents my curiosity, a desire to know that serendipitously led me to this field and the graduate program at Kansas State University. It symbolizes a progressive change in my perspective, a new filter for the reality of my chosen profession. The Glorification of Curiosity Following the indoctrination to action research, I was not very confident of its merit in adult diploma and basic education centers, nor convinced of my ability to assume a new role, that of practitioner-researcher. While explaining inquiry of this kind to friends, eyebrows raised and foreheads furrowed upon mere mention of the word research. Bewildered colleagues countered, `You're doing what?' I gulped, wondering the same. Research was a thoroughly intimidating term, a seemingly enigmatic concept. I considered it a task for the `experts,' a sterile and tedious venture removed from the everyday world of students and instruction. And so, my first and most arduous challenge was also the most obvious: imagining research beyond clip-boards, questionnaires and stacks of number-filled papers, visualizing it as a living process, a dance of discovery. Dr. Allan Quigley defied me to make this transformation. It's -- that's all it is. Research is just a glorified form of curiosity explained the educator and author (workshop, 1998). I embraced this new interpretation and all its implications, which Quigley revealed in Rethinking Literacy Education (Quigley, 1997) and during a daylong workshop in the summer of 1998. To anchor my freshly adjusted attitude, I picked up a thick marker and, with great ceremony, blacked out the traditional definition of research in the bulky dictionary that sits computerside. Research, when envisioned as about the nature of adult learning and adult learners, became a reasonable, welcoming concept. After all, I am terminally inquisitive: Why does one young woman attend to every word spoken within the classroom, as another twirls her hair, stopping to snap off the split ends? What of students' abilities, habits, motivations, cultures, histories? And what of mine? What of the myths and values and preconceptions that accompany me to the classroom each day? By focusing on such questions with action research as the lens, practitioners may begin to anticipate their roles in uncovering `The Truth' and mapping the route to program improvements. Certainly, adult educators know the terrain, including every bone-jarring pothole and maddening detour. …