Abstract

In The Chronicle of Higher Education (2013), Rachel Toor commented that ‘academic research is often driven by real passion, but by the time it turns into scholarly prose, the heat has long since dissipated’.
On 28 February of this year, Stephen Dinham delivered the annual Phillip Hughes Oration to the Australian College of Educators in Canberra. It must have been very clear to the audience that, for Dinham at least, the heat had not dissipated – in fact, if asked at the time, he may well have said that he was just warming up. The case he made was so compelling because it was well-researched, and because it was delivered with passion.
At the time, the Phillip Hughes address received favourable press coverage, but I came to the view that, unless it was published in a journal of record, the importance of the case that Dinham made might be forgotten over time. I am grateful for the opportunity to publish a revised and updated version of his address in this issue of the AJE. Although it has been adapted as necessary to meet scholarly conventions, I am confident that the fire has been retained and the case has been made in equally compelling manner. If you care about the quality of the teaching that schools provide, and about our capacity to sustain that quality, this article is for you.
Passion shows itself in many ways, but not only through advocacy. Leanne Lester and her colleagues Donna Cross, Julian Dooley and Thérèse Shaw are passionate about child health, and in particular about the impact of bullying in schools. In a three-year longitudinal study covering the period of transition from primary to secondary school, they found significantly higher levels of victimisation as children move into secondary school, accompanied by higher levels of loneliness and lower levels of peer support, connectedness to school and feelings of safety at school. If whole-school bullying programs are to have their maximum impact, this might be a good place to start.
We can always learn from other countries, particularly, as in the cases of Canada and New Zealand, when there are many similarities between our country and theirs. In this issue, Laura Perry and Andrew McConney look to Canada, Michael Irwin to New Zealand, while Bilal Rafi and Phil Lewis look to the experiences of Indian students in Australia.
Perry and McConney seek direct comparison based on PISA results – not on overall level, but on their distribution. They identify structural differences in educational outcomes that relate to structural differences in educational provision. This ought to be cause for concern, and just might be addressed if the Gonski reforms go ahead (at the time of writing, that is by no means certain). Irwin, while engaging in no direct comparison, paints a vivid picture of the lives led by adolescent schoolboys in New Zealand – a picture that invites readers in any country to make their own comparisons.
Australian universities (and even some Australian secondary schools) have been becoming increasingly dependent on revenue from international students). India ranks second only to China in terms of the numbers of international students arriving in Australia each year. But in these times of economic instability, the supply of overseas students has become more volatile. This has been the case for India, more so than for any other country – both with regard to the total numbers of students and to their distribution among the further, vocational and higher education sectors. Bilal and Lewis present evidence that Indian students are very responsive to changes in Australia's labour market, immigration and student visa policies. As these things change, so will the availability of students from India (and, presumably, from other countries upon which we have become dependent). Officials in Higher Education who see international students as a stable and reliable source of revenue might find read this article and find pause for thought.
Finally, in this issue, Christopher Drew looks at another aspect of the recruitment of students – this time by schools in New South Wales. Focussing on the schools most subject to market forces (15 elite boarding schools), he examines how school websites are used – for administrative purposes, for information flow, and increasingly for impression management and self-promotion. The fact that the latter is seen to take precedence is a triumph for the marketers. But will it yield us better schools?
Each in their own way, the authors represented in this issue have shown passion, and in some cases, bravery. And, as Toor (2013) concluded, ‘bravery in academic writing may not be rewarded with a standing ovation; it may, in fact, cause some trouble’.
That is why we need journals such as this one. Let's maintain the passion – and the bravery!
