Abstract
Learning to teach equitably is as knotty as equitable teaching itself. Both encompass challenges that place valid interests, such as efficiency and deliberation, into productive tension with one another. Applying Magdalene Lampert’s notion of “dilemma management” to teacher-researcher collaborations, we conduct a post-hoc analysis of negotiations in professional visions of equitable teaching between a researcher and a fifth-grade team of teachers in Hawai‘i. Using a formative peer observation system called Instructional Conversations for Equitable Participation (ICEP), this team used, questioned, and deviated from ICEP materials in their collaboration meetings to plan for and study equitable dialogic teaching practices in their mathematics lessons. Teachers appropriated, pushed back against, and adapted codes from ICEP observation rubrics to negotiate visions of equitable teaching that resonated with their students and the local context. We share implications for teacher-researcher collaboration and scaling and sustaining designs to assist rather than impose professional visions of equitable teaching.
Keywords
The dilemma manager accepts conflict as endemic and even useful to her work rather than seeing it as a burden that needs to be eliminated.
Learning to teach equitably is not straightforward. Equitable teaching requires, among other issues, teacher attention to the fair distribution of meaningful opportunities to participate, connecting the curriculum to students’ lives, mediating between disciplinary and everyday language practices, and balancing academic press, support, and inclusion (Jensen et al., 2021). Such teaching requires awareness of and sensitivity to students’ needs, and judgment about how to integrate them with competing instructional goals. Hence, such equitable teaching cannot be readily demonstrated or prescribed through so-called “best practices” (Lefstein & Snell, 2013).
The development of teacher sensitivity and judgment can be enabled by participating in regular, peer-facilitated meetings within small, job-alike teams in which they reflect upon their practice and address instructional challenges together (Andrews-Larson et al., 2017; Vescio et al., 2008). Such processes are effective when (a) marked by trust, collegiality, and critical inquiry among members of the teacher team (Lefstein et al., 2020; Saunders et al., 2023), and (b) based upon a shared framework of teaching that is effective and just for students across racial, linguistic, cultural, religious, and socioeconomic differences (Jensen, 2021).
To these conditions, Gallimore et al. (2009, p. 540) add “assistance by capable others from within and outside the school” (p. 540) to learn to enact equitable teaching. Coaches, school leaders, or researchers as external facilitators can assist teacher teams by enhancing collaboration processes, gathering and examining representations of practice, or highlighting nuances in teaching (Gibbons & Nieman, 2024; van Es et al., 2017; Weddle et al., 2023).
There are persistent challenges, however, in relationships between teacher teams and external facilitators (Goldman et al., 2022; Lefstein et al., 2020). In the context of a research-practice partnership, we examine the challenge of developing professional visions of equitable teaching through teacher-researcher collaborations. Integrating scholarship on professional vision (Goodwin, 1994; Lefstein & Snell, 2011; M. G. Sherin, 2001), dilemmas in teaching (Elbow, 1993; Lampert, 1985), and teacher-researcher collaboration (Farrell et al., 2019; Gomoll et al., 2022; Ko et al., 2022), we ask: How do teachers and researchers manage dilemmas that emerge in collaborating to construct professional visions of equitable teaching?
The fundamental challenge we wrestle with is how to assist teachers in developing their visions of teaching equitably without imposing a vision upon them. This challenge involves tensions—that is, strains due to competing goals, values, or understandings—that inevitably arise when teachers collaborate with researchers to improve their practice (Tabak, 2022). Empirically, our investigation is grounded in video recordings of a fifth-grade team of teachers in Hawai‘i working with researcher-developed rubrics for peer observation to plan and study instructional conversations (Saunders et al., 1992) intended to connect with what native-Islander students know, do, and identify with in their everyday lives. We analyze a portion of one of these videos as an instrumental case study (Stake, 2000) to identify implications of these dilemmas for the design of teacher collaborative learning materials.
During the focal episode of this meeting, a central dilemma was between
Theoretical Frames
Research-Practice Partnerships
We frame our case study within the broader literature on research-practice partnerships (RPPs), which have been written about increasingly over the past couple decades. Rather than simply apply research knowledge to practice, RPPs exist to generate new knowledge about a wide range of issues related to school improvement and instructional change (e.g., school organization, professional development, curriculum; Coburn & Penuel, 2016). In RPPs, educators and researchers, both positioned as knowers, draw on their differences (Denner et al., 2019) to improve an aspect of practice that both parties are interested in.
Although definitions and terminology continue to evolve (Farrell et al., 2021), RPPs remain an important context for new insights about teaching and teacher learning. Our present study on teacher–researcher collaboration is situated within a federally-funded RPP in Hawai‘i whose goal was to improve dialogic teaching practices to enhance academic participation and performance for Native Hawaiian children through peer-facilitated teacher collaborations. Peer observations using a set of rubrics to realize and sustain changes to teaching through teacher-led team meetings was of particular interest for researchers and school leaders alike.
Professional Vision
What does equitable teaching actually look like? How can we describe, discuss, or detect it, including its absence? Do teachers and researchers talk about equity in teaching in similar ways? These questions are framed by Goodwin’s (1994) concept of professional vision: “socially organized ways of seeing and understanding events that are answerable to the distinctive interests of a particular social group” (p. 606). This concept focuses attention on the unique ways professionals in general see, comprehend, and talk about the world. Part of the professional socialization process involves learning to notice and make sense of phenomena encountered in the course of professional work. Within teaching, van Es and Sherin (2008) showed that through participation in discussions of classroom videos, teachers were socialized to attend more to student thinking (rather than focusing primarily on teacher actions) and to engage in more interpretation (rather than engaging primarily in description and evaluation).
Goodwin (1994) identifies three practices through which accomplished practitioners socialize novices’ professional vision:
Professional vision encompasses two facets: (a) specialized knowledge, which professionals draw upon to uniquely see and discuss phenomena in their areas of expertise, and (b) power, which is manifested in the social processes through which the authority of professionals’ perspective is constituted, imposed, and sometimes contested and resisted by others (Lefstein & Snell, 2011). Such tensions between professional visions, either among professionals or between professionals and laypeople and/or practitioners from other fields, often lead to
Professional vision has been applied to analyses of how teachers make sense of and learn from video recordings of instructional practice (Chang et al., 2018; M. Sherin et al., 2011; van Es & Sherin, 2008). Hammerness (2001), Munter (2014), and others have extended the notion of professional vision to include—in addition to what teachers see and how they interpret it—what they can imagine as pedagogically possible and what they value as high-quality instruction. This includes a vision of teaching mathematics (Munter, 2014; Munter & Correnti, 2017) as well as professional learning designs to shape these visions (Munter & Wilhelm, 2021).
As researchers, we use “professional vision of equitable teaching” in both senses: (a) how we
Teacher-researcher collaboration
Different practitioners, especially from different backgrounds or working in different contexts, naturally often have differing professional visions. Hence, when teachers and researchers reflect together on classroom practice, tensions often emerge between their perspectives and interpretations (Lefstein & Snell, 2011). Building on this political dimension of professional vision, we want to better understand how teachers and researchers negotiate knowledge, authority, and power relations (Gomoll et al., 2022) in joint discussions of practice, using observation rubrics to represent and break down their teaching (Resnick & Kazemi, 2019). These rubrics present equitable teaching as composed of interactions and activities about disciplinary content that are (a)
Classroom observation rubrics
Often in teacher-researcher collaborations, power dynamics are uneven and researcher vision is imposed on teachers rather than shared or co-constructed (Lefstein & Snell, 2011). Likewise, classroom observation rubrics can be impositional, especially if they advance a “best practice” vision of teaching (Ermeling et al., 2015; Lefstein & Snell, 2013). Researchers can be positioned as knowers, and teachers as implementers, with teachers often expected to defer to research even when it contradicts local knowledge (Goldenberg & Gallimore, 1991). Practice is usually evaluated in observation rubrics in terms of “low” and “high” quality, and feedback to observed teachers is provided by external observers (e.g., consultants, principals, coaches). Visions of equitable teaching differ because teachers privilege local knowledge of practice while researchers privilege theoretical or empirical knowledge.
An example of this dynamic is the professional development program employing the Classroom Assessment Scoring System (CLASS). CLASS includes three domains of quality teaching indicators: Emotional Support, Classroom Organization, and Instructional Support (Pianta & Hamre, 2009). CLASS is used for research, formative, and summative purposes. My Teaching Partner (MTP), the most prevalent formative use of CLASS, is a professional development program in which web-based coaches score teachers’ video-recorded lessons and provide feedback to observed teachers, including action plans (Allen et al., 2015). Whereas MTP has been shown to positively affect teaching and student achievement (Allen et al., 2015; Hamre et al., 2010), we wonder how such a top-down model, in which coaches assess teaching and prescribe improvements, shapes teachers’ professional identities and judgment. This issue is critical for sustaining implementation through local adaptation (Tappel et al., 2023).
Using rubrics to assist performance
Indeed, little is known about the capacity of observation rubrics and related materials to support judgment-intensive pedagogies that resonate with the lived experiences of minoritized students (Jensen et al., 2021). Observation rubrics as a tool for learning can help decompose or “break apart practice while not losing sight of the complexity of the ‘whole’ of practice, including the improvisational, relational, and context-specific nature of practice” (Resnick & Kazemi, 2019, p. 10). Data from observations, including notes and scores, can help teachers develop intersubjectivity, nuanced instructional goals, and constructive feedback (Jensen et al., 2025).
Moreover, we submit that supporting a culture of continuous improvements to enact equitable teaching is facilitated by developing and using learning materials (such as observation rubrics) designed
Vygotsky’s notion of “assisted performance” (R. G. Tharp & Gallimore, 1988, p. 23) is one way to conceptualize teacher-researcher collaborations to construct professional visions. Researchers can assist teachers through a process of seeing, planning, and deliberating about equitable classroom practices. Means of assistance vary depending on local capacity, goals, and needs; researchers may encourage, accompany, model, clarify, ask, restate, remind, invite, validate, and guide teachers. Gallimore and Tharp (1990) offer a model through which assistance builds capacity and enhances performance in a “recursive loop” (p. 185) through four stages: assistance by a more capable other, assistance provided by the self, fossilization, and de-automatization. Researcher assistance for teachers to construct professional visions using observation rubrics can operate through similar stages and processes.
Yet, assisted performance suffers from two limitations that we wish to interrogate in this case study. First, assisted performance often assumes an expert mentoring a novice in dyadic interaction, whereas researchers, coaches, or other external facilitators also work with small teams of teachers through a process of collaborative inquiry (Weddle et al., 2023). Coaching teams of teachers often involves external assistance (of productive collaboration) and peer assistance (of instructional decision-making). Peer assistance comes from a colleague within the school who is teaching the same content and grade level (Andrews-Larson et al., 2017), whereas external assistance (e.g., from an instructional coach) comes from outside the grade-level team and, sometimes, from outside of the school (Gibbons & Nieman, 2024). Peer assistance occurs within a horizontal relationship where power is distributed, whereas external assistance generally takes place within a more vertical relationship in which power is not shared equally.
Hence, the second limitation we address is expertise, and who possesses it. Assisted performance assumes the unidirectional expertise of “a more capable other” (R. G. Tharp & Gallimore, 1988, p. 47). Yet, teachers tend to know more about their students, curriculum, and school than researchers (or instructional coaches), which has implications for the researcher-teacher relationship: in their efforts to assist teacher collaboration to enact equitable practice, researchers (as external facilitators) must consider when and how to defer to teacher knowledge.
Dilemmas of Practice
Without sensitivity to these matters, researchers’ efforts to scaffold professional visions of equitable teaching can unwittingly devolve into imposition and, thus, undermine designs for instructional change. Real and necessary tensions threaten productive collaborations between researchers and teachers. To address these tensions, we adopt Lampert’s (1985) dilemma management approach. Lampert argued that in teaching most challenges ought to be thought of as
Examples of dilemmas in teaching cited by Lampert include “choosing . . . between pushing students to achieve and providing a comfortable learning environment, between covering the curriculum and attending to individual understanding” (p. 182). The point of managing dilemmas in teaching, Lampert argues, is not to balance or compromise, but to strengthen pedagogical judgment by grappling with tension and conflict. It is in grappling, she argues, that teachers learn to improve—for example, to see students differently, to reason through lesson activities, to transform interactions with and among students.
Similarly, in his essay problematizing “binary thinking,” Elbow (1993) argues that, in teaching, “compromise or reconciliation is not the answer” (p. 58). He contends, A happy medium or golden mean is no good: being only sort of helpful or inviting to students and only sort of vigilant as to whether they do decent work. . . . Most teachers are stuck having to occupy one point along the continuum. . . . But really skilled teachers somehow find ways to do justice to these opposites in all their irreconcilability. (p. 58)
Managing tensions in teaching is markedly different than seeking to solve problems or to identify “best practices,” with significant implications for teacher-researcher collaboration and
We explore the advantages and shortcomings of a dilemma-based approach to teacher-researcher collaboration to develop professional visions of teaching equitably. Like managing systemic tensions within research-practice partnerships (Tabak, 2022; Vedder-Weiss et al., 2020), our core conjecture is that a dilemma-based approach to supporting teacher learning can sustain instructional change by balancing power and knowledge between teacher and researcher, positioning researchers as partners rather than experts, and teachers as authoritative decision-makers (Nyden & Wiewel, 1992; Windschitl, 2002).
Study Context
Our larger design goal is to sustain and scale supports for teachers to learn to foster equitable learning opportunities for students from minoritized communities. Doing this requires engaging with teachers as partners, on their terms and within their professional settings, where on a daily basis they plan, enact, and reflect on classroom activities and interactions. We analyze data from a fifth-grade team 1 in Hawai‘i to identify and explore dilemmas that emerged in teacher-researcher collaboration to construct professional visions of equitable teaching.
The professional learning design this team participated in is called Instructional Conversations for Equitable Participation (ICEP; Yamauchi et al., 2024). Drawing on over 5 decades of research in Hawai‘i (R. G. Tharp & Gallimore, 1988), ICEPs are small group discussions about disciplinary ideas that integrate minoritized students’ everyday identities, experiences, and language practices (Jensen et al., 2018; R. Tharp et al., 2000). They combine features of instruction and conversation to elicit student background knowledge, complex expression, and bases for positions (Matsumura & Garnier, 2015; Portés et al., 2018). The aim of ICEP is meaningful student participation in the ideas and practices of academic disciplines (Lee et al., 2013).
ICEP observation rubrics 2 are organized into four domains: Contextualized Discourse, Collaborative Activity, Complex Expression with Everyday Language, and Equitable Participation. The ICEP design comprises (a) participant structures, (b) the materials, and (c) external assistance. The primary participant structure is weekly, peer-facilitated meetings among grade-level teacher teams to plan and study ICEP lessons. Appointed by the school principal, peer facilitators prepared agendas for and led weekly meetings and attended school instructional leadership team meetings. ICEP teachers are positioned as authorities of their practice who decide which student learning standards to address, which ICEP domain to focus on, which teacher/lesson to observe, and when they are ready to move on to another standard or domain.
Prior to working with this teacher team, ICEP observation rubrics were co-developed with other teachers in Hawai‘i through an iterative process of observing, analyzing, and discussing classroom videos (Yamauchi et al., 2024). Other project materials include:
a bank of annotated classroom videos to calibrate teacher raters;
a lesson plan template;
an observation template to guide teachers through annotating and scoring lessons;
a team inquiry protocol to assist teacher facilitators with planning, debriefing, examining, reflecting on, and revising ICEP lessons; and
GoReact video software to upload and analyze lessons.
External assistance within the ICEP design included two workshops per year and monthly meetings with researchers. Workshops focused on honing teachers’ understandings of ICEP concepts and use of ICEP materials. Project researchers accompanied teacher teams once per month to observe and participate in their lesson planning and debrief conversations, and to answer team members’ questions about ICEP concepts, materials, interpretations, and uses. Importantly, the team inquiry protocol positions teachers as leaders and decision-makers in planning, analyzing, and revising lessons based on ICEP. All others participating in team meetings, including the external facilitator, are guests in the meeting who guide as requested.
During the 2021–2022 school year, author Jensen was the researcher/external facilitator participating in collaborative meetings in which a team of fifth-grade teachers used ICEP materials to plan and study their math lessons and classroom discussion practices. The team consisted of two teachers, Molly and Jordan, 3 who work in a native Islander majority, Title-1 elementary school on O‘ahu. Molly and Jordan said they decided to participate in ICEP to improve their class discussions. For some meetings, Molly and Jordan were alone. For others, a teacher’s aide, school leaders, and the researcher joined intermittently throughout the year.
We draw on 10 video recordings of these monthly meetings from throughout the school year when researchers were present. We also reviewed two additional recordings of meetings when only the teachers were present, but did not find evidence of negotiating professional visions in them, and did not include them in our analysis. The meetings we included ranged from 26 minutes to 1 hour 20 minutes in length, with a median length of 1 hour and 9 minutes. Whereas Molly and Jordan had an existing collegial and personal relationship, they did not have a relationship with the research team prior to the beginning of this project.
In the episode we examine, Molly, Jordan, Bryant (researcher), and Omar (school principal) were present. It was the first semester Molly and Jordan participated in the ICEP project. The meeting was a debrief session in which Molly and Jordan shared observation notes and scores with each other from a lesson they had planned together on teaching students to divide using a standard algorithm. Both teachers implemented the lesson and observed each other, focusing on Domain 3 (Complex Expression with Everyday Language) of ICEP. Bryant identifies as a White man and Omar as an Indian American man from the mainland. Molly and Jordan, both women veteran teachers and native Pacific Islanders themselves, prepared agendas for their weekly team meetings. Molly is from the community she works in and was the designated team facilitator (by the principal). Jordan is from California and married a man from the community of the school where they are raising their children.
Case Selection and Data Analysis
We focus on this school in Hawai‘i because most of the students come from “intersectionally minoritized communities” (Souto-Manning et al., 2019, p. 264) by race, ethnicity, social class, and language, and because it is staffed by a relatively stable (i.e., little turnover) group of teachers, most of whom are from the local community. Given these student demographics and school conditions, the ICEP team felt the project would resonate (e.g., valuing the use of Pidgin; Yamauchi et al., 2024) and sustain after the project’s conclusion in 3 years.
Evidence of negotiating professional visions emerged early in this team’s ICEP experience, as teachers inquired about—and challenged—ICEP practices and the collaborative inquiry process. We systematically reviewed 10 video-recorded and transcribed teacher meetings for moments of negotiation between researcher and teacher professional visions. Authors Segal and Topham coded all the researcher talk turns within their immediate context using a binary category of whether (or not) the talk turn involved the negotiation of professional visions. During this early stage of coding, we identified negotiation of professional visions in the researchers’ talk turns as moments when they were presenting understandings of the ICEP materials and program in a way that acknowledged or took up different opinions about the materials or program from the teachers. The example below comes from a later meeting, where teachers brought up the importance of nonverbal communication in relation to one of the indicators, with one teacher in particular claiming that nonverbal communication could be evidence of a conversation. At that moment, the researcher said:
Yeah, no, that’s good. And the keyword to me in the five is consistent evidence for the last row under 5d, the keyword there is “and.” It’s not saying “or” right? Like, you’re not contributing by questioning, listening, engaging nonverbally, sharing, or thinking out loud. Like to have a four or a five, there should be consistent evidence for many of those, not just one, right? And so at the end of the day, ICEP is about discuss—
communication, conversations.
Discussions. Yeah, verbal, verbal discussions. But, like, we have to acknowledge that part of having meaningful verbal discussions requires some nonverbal engagement, too, like leaning in, intently observing, nodding, and engaging each other, right? But that can’t be all of it.
In this brief excerpt, we can see a clear difference in interpretations about specific elements of the rubric (indicator 5d) with Bryant asserting a specific position about the importance of verbal communication while still acknowledging the value of other perspectives in a way that left the conversation open to continue (which it did) instead of simply providing an authoritative reading of the materials.
When one or more talk turns like the ones presented above were coded as having evidence of negation of professional visions, we noted the turn numbers related to the start and end of that conversational topic as a negotiation episode and later determined the exact duration of each episode by returning to the recording. We double-coded talk turns from two meetings to calibrate our sensitivity to the phenomenon of interest. After coding the second meeting, the coders reached 85% interrater reliability, deliberated to reach full agreement, and worked together to produce a working definition of a negotiation episode as (a) featuring different understandings or points of view brought into dialogue and (b) relating to ICEP rubrics or concepts. Drawing from Goodwin (1994), we frame ICEP rubrics and concepts as a set of codes that make up the professional vision the ICEP program seeks to advance. Thus, as teachers and researchers discuss ICEP concepts and definitions, they are negotiating professional vision.
Coders then divided up and single-coded talk turns in the rest of the teacher meetings. We identified eight episodes from seven meetings as featuring negotiation between researcher and teachers (see Table 1), which we then reviewed to understand the object of negotiation and the positions advanced. Whereas four of the episodes clearly involved the negotiation of professional visions of equitable teaching, the other four were focused on the structure and use of the ICEP materials and processes. We eliminated these four episodes, leaving four that featured negotiation of professional visions of equitable teaching drawn from four different meetings.
Episodes of Negotiating Professional Vision Across Teacher Team Meetings
The focal case, taken from the third meeting, was selected for its duration and for the explicit nature of the disagreement and negotiation. Also significant is this episode’s timing at the early stages of the team’s use of ICEP rubrics, enabling a glimpse into competing teacher and researcher professional visions at the start of the learning trajectory. The other two cases of comparable duration, in Meetings 2 and 8, illustrate this point. In Meeting 2, Molly and Jordan worked with the rubrics for the first time, on a sample lesson featuring neither of them; the negotiation of professional visions involves the researcher imparting knowledge in lengthy, authoritative talk turns. By Meeting 8, the teachers have largely appropriated the rubrics, and the negotiation is about a specific application. In contrast, in the focal episode, the rubrics are brought to bear on one participant’s lesson and teachers’ perspectives on everyday language come into dialogue with those of the researcher; we found this to be a generative stage for addressing our research question. Their goal in this lesson was to elicit more student discussion.
To analyze the selected episode, we used linguistic ethnographic tools and methods, which combine the systematic rigor of sociolinguistic analysis with ethnography’s regard for context and particularity (Lefstein & Snell, 2013; Rampton et al., 2016). This approach characterizes meaning as fundamentally co-constructed through interaction, language choices, and role enactment; meaning is thus emergent, and interaction simultaneously accomplishes multiple social functions beyond information exchange (Heritage, 1984). Meaning is also shaped by broader institutional historical and cultural contexts (Duranti & Goodwin, 1992). Our analysis is, therefore, data-driven, treating our discourse data “as situated interaction prior to investigating it as an instance of a theoretical construct” (Snell & Lefstein, 2015, p. 473).
Analysis thus included repeated listening to the focal episode, detailed transcription, and the use of micro-analytic methods to examine the event’s sequential unfolding. We worked slowly through the data, asking at each line questions such as, “What is the speaker doing?” “Why that, now?” “How does this turn at talk respond to what came before?” and “What else might have been done here but wasn’t?” (Rampton, 2006). Throughout this data-driven line-by-line analysis, we were especially attuned to ways in which professional visions regarding equitable teaching were represented, constructed, ratified, and contested, and the construction of social identities within and surrounding such negotiations of meaning. This level of analysis was conducted in dialogue with theory on social positioning (Goffman, 1955; Harré, 2015; Tannen, 2007). Bryant, the researcher in the meeting, corroborated our coding and interpretations of actions and interactions in this episode of the collaboration meeting.
Findings: Managing Conflicting Professional Visions
In this section we present our focal episode as an example of negotiating professional visions. While we understand this as an episode of negotiation, it does not mean that there is explicit negotiation happening in every talk turn. We present and analyze a conversational segment that ultimately built to a significant moment of negotiation surrounding key terms in the ICEP rubric as part of ongoing work between teachers and researchers to carry out the ICEP program. We review evidence of different functions ICEP codes played in this episode—through the management of dilemmas to construct professional vision of equitable teaching, including pushing back, appropriating, and negotiating the ICEP vision (see Figure 1).
Functions of ICEP Codes to Construct Professional Vision
This episode focused on Domain 3 of the ICEP rubrics, “Complex Expression with Everyday Language,” just after the teachers had completed their first in-class observations of one another’s teaching. Prior to this episode, the group discussed logistical matters, including an upcoming presentation to the school about ICEP and preparing to start recording their lessons. The two teachers then showed the group the plan they had developed for the observed lesson and then Molly invited Jordan to go first in sharing her observation of Molly’s lesson. The episode, beginning 21 minutes into the 73-minute meeting and taking nearly 15 minutes, picks up there and ends just before Molly took her turn sharing her observation of Jordan’s lesson. Participants in the discussion include Molly, Jordan, Bryant (researcher), and Omar (school principal).
Rubric Appropriation
Molly opened this segment of the meeting by addressing Jordan: “Okay, do you want to start?” Jordan marked her hesitation at being the first to take on this new activity, saying, “I’m not totally sure what I’m [crosstalk]”/“We’ll see how it goes,” while Molly reassured her about the value of her contribution. Jordan, in a single speaking turn extending for 5 min, then presented her observation of Molly’s fifth grade math lesson with a group of five students. She began by describing the content and flow of the lesson: And then [inaudible] we said that we were simply going to state the question, “What is the relationship between multiplication and division?” And that simple question, first students started with saying they were the same. And she did a lot of rephrasing around the question “What does the word relationship mean?” And so on [inaudible]. So one bigger question that I had from her was you could tell that the [inaudible] was different. Because to me they didn’t seem hesitant, they just threw out answers but you could also tell they weren’t used to yelling it all at once. She had a protocol for her students, so they would, one at a time, say what they were thinking, and it was deeper than I thought they’d go, it was deeper than she thought that they would go. I think that’s why it took longer than we thought it would be. It was 10–12 minutes instead of the [inaudible] minutes that we had, because they just kept going deeper and deeper with her changing of the question and rephrasing of what they said, they were just, “Oh, and this, and this.” She ended up having them put it into—or, she put it into a Venn diagram for them, she showed them, uh, the different sections, and they were able to say what went where.
Jordan’s noticing in this description attended to teacher actions, student actions, and how the former shaped the latter. These categories are part of the ICEP rubrics, which divide indicators into those manifested in teacher actions and those manifested in student actions. While these categories remained implicit in Jordan’s lesson observation, she brought them up explicitly later in the meeting, suggesting that she was picking up these categories (or codes) from the ICEP rubrics. For instance, the term “rephrasing,” appearing twice in the above description, may relate to indicator 3c,
ICEP Observation Rubric for “Complex Expression With Everyday Language”
Here we begin to see the extent to which ICEP rubric concepts and terms are beginning to shape Jordan’s coding practices while observing. She used rubric terms to describe and make sense of what happened in the lesson. However, because connections to the rubric remained allusive, it is not clear to what extent she was using these terms with ICEP-intended meanings.
Jordan’s implicit dialogue with the rubrics might explain her discussion of “one bigger question.” Molly shared with Jordan concerns about her students being “hesitant.” Student hesitation to participate seems to fly in the face of equitable participation, and indeed one marker associated with indicator 3b,
This example of a case in which the teachers’ perspective on an instructional dilemma differed from that embodied in the rubric demonstrates a way in which teachers subtly pushed back on the rubric to offer their own professional vision (see Figure 1) yet strived to position themselves and one another as being aligned with ICEP. Thus, while the teachers were beginning to use ICEP codes, they did not uncritically accept its professional vision.
Jordan continued by explicitly referring to “indicator analysis”: Um, if we’re jumping all the way to indicator analysis, I would say her kids, or, sorry, she was very good at affirming the students by repeating what they said, rephrasing also, and because of that it. . . . I think that the way we speak in math sometimes, the way it’s phrased in the math book, they think they need these long, really wordy examples, so once they started giving her numbers instead of words, I could tell they were like “she’s speaking the way I’m speaking and we’re talking about math, so [inaudible].” So I thought that was really good in spite of so many things. She accepted the words that they were using, especially. . . we were hoping they would go into the words opposite and inverse and they kept saying the word backwards. And she took it as “we know what they mean by backwards.” And they gave number examples, uh, number sentence examples, which was, like, 16 divided by 2 equals 8, 16 divided by 8 equals 2. Then they moved it from 28 divided by 7 equals 4 and then 7 times 4 equals 28. And they just kept saying “Yeah, it’s backwards.” . . . So they were saying fact family the whole time, backwards, using the same numbers, but then when they came out—said the phrase “fact families,” it was something students [inaudible] on their own, but through the conversation, she was allowing them to keep going back, like, “I know a lot about multiplication, I know a lot about division” and went back to. . . third grade, I would guess, when they used fact families [inaudible] the relationship between multiplication and division.
Jordan used the terms “affirming” and “rephrasing” from the ICEP rubric to show that Molly’s lesson was well-aligned with indicator 3c. Replete with positive assessments (“she was very good at,” “I love,” “that was really nice”) and only one oblique reference to difficulties (“I thought that was really good in spite of so many things”), this framing of the lesson echoes the rubric on encouraging students to author their own ideas using their own language. Thus, while the teachers may have preferred (“we were hoping”) that the students use mathematical language such as
Jordan’s lauding of “connections” between
Yeah, that’s something that we haven’t—I was sharing with her, like, we’ve never used that in class this year at all. So like to hear like, “I was like wahhhh. Like, somebody said that!”
And they made that connection.
Yeah, and they’re like, “Yeah, fact families!” But the whole time they kept saying “backwards” and it was driving me [crosstalk]
Well, it didn’t look like it was driving you nuts. I think that’s what was good for the kids is they’re [inaudible].
Molly reinforced Jordan’s positive view of this connection, especially the students’ drawing upon their prior—and likely school-based (“third grade, I would guess”)—knowledge of
Negotiating Visions
At this point, we locate the start of a negotiation of professional visions as Bryant challenged Molly’s decision not to introduce “inverse” or “opposite” over the term “backwards”:
I think that’s an important point too, like, like, under 3c, the second bullet point, we have “rephrases student’s ideas with new words.” So it’s not like you’re going to correct them and say, “Well, it’s not actually backwards, it’s inverse or opposite” or the words we want you to use. But you can restate their contribution using those new words. Right, and so—
Okay. Can I?
Absolutely.
[Laughs]
Yeah, no, absolutely. We want—the point isn’t just to sort of, reaffirm the way they talk. The point is to invite them into additional ways of seeing and talking and being more precise. Mathematical language, particularly, is all about precision, right? And those words—adding new vocabulary helps them become more precise in the expression of ideas. And so we’re not correcting them, but we’re also extending.
In challenging Molly’s decision, Bryant also challenged Jordan’s conflation of “affirming,” “repeating,” and “rephrasing,” by pointing to the rubric’s language,
Bryant did not challenge Jordan on “backwards” but rather addressed the issue only after Molly expressed difficulty in not interfering with the students’ language. While Molly acknowledged this struggle after Jordan cast it in heroic terms, and Bryant’s view was quite the opposite, he mitigated his disagreement with language suggesting that he was in fact agreeing with Molly (“I think that’s an important point too”). Similarly, he used positive language (“Absolutely. Yeah, no, absolutely.”) and qualifiers (“just to sort of”) as he disagreed with the practice exhibited in Molly’s lesson, “reaffirm the way they talk.” This indirect and mitigated disagreement may serve to reduce the “face threat” (Vedder-Weiss et al., 2019, p. 538)—feedback challenging one’s professional image or identity (Goffman, 1955)—posed to Molly and Jordan of the researcher-expert essentially criticizing their understanding and use of rubric codes.
Molly responded by asserting that the dilemma posed by the competing values of students expressing themselves in their own language versus socializing them into disciplinary discourse is not as easily resolved as Bryant’s explication suggested:
Okay. Cause I think after the conversation on language marginalization, I was trying to value what they shared more by not—Because as a teacher, that’s how I’ve been taught to, like, there are going to be these tier two, tier three words, that I want them to know.
Of course.
And so as they share their ideas, I’ll pop that in there. But like during that conversation, I was like, “Just let them share. Let them see what they can come up with.” So when they came up with fact families, and then everyone else was like, “Oh, yeah, yeah. Fact families. Yeah, yeah,” I was like, “Oh, they knew it, but they haven’t used it.” But that’s something that was in their background knowledge. I was so amazed, but I was like, trying not to give them—or I was trying not to use the word “inverse.” I was just like, but naturally, I would, but—
Cause they were saying backwards. [crosstalk]
Yes, I would like eventually, like right there. I would have said, “Here’s a word that you’re going to love, you guys. When you’re talking about multiplication and division, the backward part is ‘inverse.’” Like, I would have done that. But I didn’t want to do because, just that conversation about language marginalization, was, like, allow them to own what they’re saying and clarify. You know, through questions.
Molly responded by sharing the expectation of teachers to teach math vocabulary (“these tier two, tier three words”). While the exact meaning of “tier two and tier three words” is unclear from this conversational context, Molly is definitely using them to label elements of mathematical vocabulary relevant to teaching practice. These terms do not come from the ICEP materials but were part of preceding instructional frameworks in the school; they are a different set of codes that come from a different professional vision of teaching. Thus, Molly is contrasting how her behavior as a teacher working under another professional vision might conflict with what is expected in the ICEP program. She is negotiating codes between visions, managing dissonance from what I. S. Horn and Campbell (2015) call “a conceptual wedge” (p. 169).
There is more evidence of this throughout her other talk in this excerpt. While the discourse marker “okay” may imply agreement, Molly, too, expressed disagreement indirectly and through mitigation (“Cause I think”/“I was trying”). However, this indirectness and mitigation served not to reduce the face threat to her interlocutor, but to herself. This justification of her observed practice drew upon the resource of a previous conversation in which both she and Bryant had participated, “the conversation on language marginalization.” Thus, while Bryant referenced the shared resource of the rubric to mitigate his own authority, Molly called upon Bryant’s own explication of the principles—from a previous meeting—to justify why she acted as she did. In fact, she continued, “as a teacher,” an authoritative practitioner in her own right, not as a novice in the ICEP intervention, she was well aware of the math vocabulary that, she agentively proclaimed, “I want them to know.” When Molly said, “tier two, tier three words,” she was drawing on codes outside of ICEP. It is likely that other groups or initiatives at the school also had their own ways of describing teaching practice. In their daily work, teachers simultaneously navigate the coding demands of multiple professional visions. In our data, we clearly see a negotiation of professional visions based on at least two different sets of codes: ICEP versus local math curricula, with conflicts about the acquisition of disciplinary language.
As Bryant agreed, Molly continued that indeed it was her general practice to “pop that in there,” using “I’ll” in a habitual sense, and then contrasted this (“But”) with her choice in “that conversation” to “just let them share.” Throughout the two speaking turns separated by Principal Omar’s co-narration of the situation, Molly continued to oscillate between her general practice (“naturally,” “eventually,” “I would have said,” “I would have done that”) and her practice in the specific instance, in which she was “amazed” at the students’ fact family prowess and “trying not to give them—or I was trying not to use the word inverse.” This was again justified via reference to “that conversation about language marginalization” and behaviors associated with the relevant domain: “allow them to own what they’re saying and clarify. You know, through questions.”
Molly thus identified the dilemma as arising not from her experience as a teacher alone (in which it was obvious to her to teach the official vocabulary) but from her understanding of the materials that Bryant was guiding her to use and their supposed conflict with her existing professional vision, which is related to the codes she used earlier (“tier two, tier three”). She was now in the difficult position of feeling she had acted in the spirit of indicator 3d,
Once Molly had countered Bryant’s explication of 3c with her rationale of prioritizing 3d, he responded not only by addressing the relationship between the two indicators but also by doing so in a way that marked rather than mitigated disagreement, with the contrastive conjunction “but” appearing four times in one utterance:
But remember—but the indicators are meant to sort of relate to each other. So 3d is about fostering critical discussions about language. But 3c is about, we are intentional about using the words affirming
That’s the bridge you talked about.
Yeah. Yeah. Right. And of course, we’re here to acquire, you know, more precise language to express our mathematical ideas.
Through a process because by, by connecting it with what’s familiar to them, this new unfamiliar word now becomes more familiar. Because it’s—it becomes more sticky, right, because you’re bridging the familiarity to the new, right? So ultimately, that will help them internalize that and now it becomes their own.
So it was cool though, like, it was a great aha. I was like “Ahhh!” because I noticed last year and this year, one of the things that the kids in the past have always done is they’ll say, “We’ve learned this before, so and so,” like their other teacher. “We learned this in this grade,” and last year, I didn’t get a lot of that. And this year, specifically at the beginning of the year, I asked, “This should be something that you’ve heard of before, done before.” They’re like, “Nope, no, never.” But as we’ve gone through the order, like they’ll say, “Oh, yeah, [our past teacher] taught us that.” And I’m like, “Okay, so it’s in there.” But that was something else, not remembering anything. But it’s been crazy years.
In his response, Bryant used the conjunction “but” (“But you also want to extend it”) to accept the tension that Molly had identified between affirming and extending. In accepting this tension while affirming the need to embody both sides of it, Bryant stressed that this is an instructional dilemma the teachers will continue to face.
Omar then contextualized Bryant’s emphasis on the value of extension by recalling another previous conversation where Bryant had compared this process of extending students’ language to a bridge (“That’s the bridge you talked about”). Throughout the conversation excerpt, Omar’s role had been to clarify or amplify Molly’s description. By referencing the earlier conversation with Bryant, he may have been similarly indicating agreement and understanding. However, Omar may have also been suggesting that the tensions inherent to ICEP, and to Bryant’s mediations of them, are less easily reconciled than the researcher was suggesting.
Bryant then emphasized (“of course”) his affirmation of Molly’s prior assertion that, “as a teacher,” she hoped to help students (in Bryant’s words) “acquire, you know, more precise language,” and Omar offered a more robust contribution to the discussion. He synthesized Bryant’s and Molly’s comments, claiming that this acquisition happens “through a process,” and that wrestling with the tension between affirming and extending makes for better instructional practice because it “will help [students] internalize that and now it becomes their own.”
In her follow-up, Molly turned toward exploring the implications of this experience (“So it’s cool, though”), claiming that her overemphasis on affirming students’ discourse had helped remind her how much students already know and have already learned, even when the students themselves do not immediately find it familiar (“Nope, no, never”). This talk turn is an attempt to recontextualize the lesson as primarily valuable for Molly’s own learning rather than for the students’ learning, implicitly accepting that her decision to not offer the term “inverse” was suboptimal. Jordan disagreed with this implicit framing:
I even feel like if you had said inverse early on in the conversation, it might not have allowed them to open up a little more. If you know what I mean. I don’t think you would have gotten to backwards, like when they were—they did 28 divided by 7 equals 4, 7 times 4 equals 28, you said, “Oh, that’s inverse,” then they wouldn’t have even used the word “backwards” [crosstalk]. I understand we need to extend [inaudible] vocabulary words, but I also feel like sometimes [inaudible] stops everything to be like, “Oh, it’s inverse,” I would—
Right, yeah—
Might slow down just a tiny bit. So just the amount of time that they were able to keep going and digging and digging in their own minds, I thought—
This extension doesn’t work if you don’t affirm, right. And I think in this setting that’s important too. Molly, earlier, you said, “I wasn’t sure if I could be me,” essentially. And that’s, that’s not the point of this. We want you to—we want to affirm who you are, but also extend, just like we want to do with our kids, right? Like, if your inclination is to use a word, like, find a way to use it, and if there’s a way to do it a little bit better through this process, wonderful. That’s an extension for you. But don’t, don’t like, you know, censor yourself.
Molly responded, “I love what you’re saying . . . because I didn’t give them the word so quickly, I felt like they had a better understanding.” She then explained that she now planned to discuss this question and tell students about the term “inverse” in her next mathematics lesson with them.
Jordan’s input used the idea Omar raised (that affirming and extending is a process rather than a single event) to argue that Molly’s actions in the recorded lesson were actually very helpful for the students’ learning, raising a counterfactual of what might have happened if Molly had just started by trying to extend without a significant amount of affirming (“If you had said inverse early on in the conversation”). Thus, Jordan argued, supporting her previous claim (“good for the kids”), that Molly’s teaching was actually a good practice when compared with what could have happened, emphasizing that this has implications for how they should understand and navigate the tension between affirming and extending (“I understand we need to extend [inaudible] vocabulary words, but I also feel like sometimes”). Bryant agreed (“Right, yeah”) and Jordan emphasized that waiting to extend students’ vocabulary gives them time to develop and connect with their own understandings more fully (“just the amount of time. . . digging and digging in their own minds”). Because Jordan emphasized that extending too soon can “[stop] everything,” building on Omar’s identification of affirming and extending as “a process,” she created an opening for Molly to feel exonerated because she still has future opportunities to add extension to her affirmation (“when I go back, and I’m going to share that with them [the students]”). In constructing this explanation, Jordan offered a new shared understanding of the codes in the ICEP rubrics, both remedying the earlier conflation of affirming and rephrasing and summarizing a new understanding of how this works in practice.
Before Molly applied Jordan’s insight by mentioning her future plans to extend student’s vocabulary, Bryant agreed with Jordan’s explanation and added some of his own: he claimed that in working with Molly and Jordan he (and the rest of the research team) faced the same dilemma between affirming and extending the teachers’ classroom practice. He was connecting this to the point earlier in the conversation in which Molly expressed doubts about being able to implement the ICEP framework while remaining authentic to herself (“as a teacher”). By offering this explanation and connecting it to the earlier moment, Bryant emphasized that this idea of affirming and extending can help manage the tension between Molly’s professional vision as a teacher and the professional vision instantiated in the rubrics. He is aware of this tension because he struggles with the dilemma between affirming and extending the teachers’ practice. Thus, Bryant not only affirmed Jordan’s interpretation of this ICEP indicator but applied that interpretation to their ongoing collaboration (“I think in this setting that’s important too”). In Molly’s final reflection on this issue, she took up this framing by explaining that she could do the same thing and draw on her previous affirmation to help her students keep learning as she tried to focus more on extending in the next lesson. Bryant affirmed and restated the group’s new shared understanding: “Yeah, they go together.”
Discussion
We have illustrated through this analysis how a dilemma-based (rather than best-practice) approach to teaching and teacher learning can foster collaborating teachers’ pedagogical reasoning and judgment, which are critical in learning to enact equitable pedagogy (I. Horn & Garner, 2022). We submit that dilemma management “cascades” (Ermeling, 2012, p. 25): researchers who manage the dilemmas in their collaborative work with teachers are better attuned to teachers’ management of dilemmas in teaching. Teachers are then empowered to manage dilemmas of teaching—“to do justice to these opposites in all their irreconcilability” (Elbow, 1993, p. 58)—through assistance, to detect and manage dilemmas of
These claims certainly need more conceptual refining and empirical investigation. From this episode of teacher-researcher negotiation, we can conclude that learning to affirm and extend student contributions in classrooms can be facilitated by both affirming
In this sense, professionals’ visions of equitable teaching that become durable are assisted through negotiation, rather than imposed. Teachers are agents in the construction of their vision, rather than repositories of another’s. They make decisions for themselves within the context of their daily work—to appropriate others’ vision, push back, and negotiate (see Figure 1) in dialogue with peers and external facilitators to refine their visions to improve equitable practice.
We analyzed negotiations between Molly, Jordan, Bryant, and Omar in terms of “coding” (Goodwin, 1994) a math lesson using observation rubrics about equitable dialogic teaching. We found from our analysis that dilemmas in teacher-researcher collaboration to construct visions of equitable teaching are in the eye of the beholder. Molly and Jordan found themselves caught between ICEP researcher knowledge and their local knowledge of students, curricula, and standards. In such situations, traditional norms of power and knowledge certainly appeared, with Molly and Jordan at times treating the researcher as an authoritative other. However, Bryant was also careful to position Molly and Jordan as experts and authorities in their own right. Jordan and Molly identified this dilemma and sought to manage it by pushing back against rubric terms while aligning themselves to ICEP concepts, values, and practices.
From my view as the researcher/external facilitator (Bryant), the primary dilemma here concerned helping teachers understand and apply the nuances of ICEP codes (i.e., domains, dimensions, indicators, and behavioral markers), on one hand, while honoring their agency—including to make instructional decisions in direct opposition to ICEP values and codes—on the other. In our focal episode, I (Bryant) clarified “rephrasing” while trying to give teachers space to make sense of it within their own practice—to make decisions about the significance of the practice in their classrooms.
A limitation of our study is that we did not interview teachers to augment our interpretations of this meeting with their reported experiences of it. Yet, the transcripts reveal aspects of the dilemmas they faced between rubric codes and existing categories of instruction. In Molly’s response about “tier two, tier three words,” for example, she signaled assumptions about language development that differed with those embedded within ICEP. For ICEP, disciplinary language such as math discourse is developed through use (Valdés, 2018), whereas Molly and her colleagues were expected by the school to directly teach vocabulary.
In sum, we see dilemmas as opportunities for teacher learning. By pushing back against, appropriating, and negotiating ICEP codes, Molly and Jordan actively hone their professional visions of equitable teaching. Managing dilemmas with assistance from the researcher and ICEP rubrics and protocols developed pedagogical sensitivity, judgment, and reasoning—with the expectation of justifying the teachers’ instructional decisions with argument and evidence. To construct professional visions of equitable teaching, we find that dilemma management has at least three affordances. First is the intentional distribution of power between teachers and researchers (as external facilitators). Tensions are seen as opportunities rather than setbacks; disagreements (e.g., about instructional codes) are respected without the need for coercion or acquiescence. Second is the focus on explanation, justification, and elaborations of reasons for positions about equitable teaching over the position itself. Lastly, we find that dilemma management allows for the co-construction of a shared set of codes that are situated and meaningful to teachers, which is critical for sustaining instructional change over time.
Yet, professional visions of teaching concern more than
We identify some implications of dilemma management for teacher learning designs in other settings. First, rubrics and other embodiments should be adapted to the local context without diluting concepts or codes. This, too, is a negotiation. After this first year with Molly and Jordan and other teacher teams in Hawai‘i, various changes were made to the rubrics to be more relevant, recognizable, and feasible (Jensen et al., 2025). Teacher feedback was central to this process. Second, protocols should be designed and tested to guide researchers, facilitators, or coaches in their work with teacher teams (Gibbons & Nieman, 2024; Weddle et al., 2023). This would function much like the ICEP team inquiry protocol that teacher leaders use to facilitate collaborative discussions in plan-do-analyze-revise stages. Guidelines could help facilitators anticipate dilemmas between them and teachers and be intentional about managing the dilemmas by assisting the facilitation process. A stable setting for external facilitators to discuss and reason together about their work with teachers would help them get better together at assisting (rather than imposing on) teachers’ professional vision.
We identify three additional limitations to our study vis-à-vis the literature, suggesting specific needs for future research. First, we spent little theoretical or analytic attention in this study on meso- or macro-level infrastructure requisite for instructional change (Woulfin & Allen, 2022). Our interest in teacher-researcher collaboration stems from our broader design goal to sustain and scale supports for teachers to learn to foster equitable learning opportunities for students from minoritized communities. Yet, this cannot occur without addressing the ways programs like ICEP cohere or misalign with existing infrastructure (e.g., curricular materials, professional development routines, administrative norms) for instructional improvement (Shirrell et al., 2019). Future research is needed to examine how programs such as ICEP interact with other infrastructure to realize, sustain, and scale productive teacher collaborations. Research-practice partnerships are especially needed to study these innovations (Denner et al., 2019).
The second limitation to our study was that the Bryant was not an employee of the school or district. Opportunities for expansion are constrained when the program depends so much on outside personnel. Future work is needed to develop and study induction plans for external facilitators to detect and manage dilemmas of teaching, teacher collaboration, and teacher–coach relationships. We need to know (a) how external facilitation enhances (or is enhanced by) peer facilitation among teacher teams, (b) how facilitation moves—or “means of assisting performance” (Gallimore & Tharp, 1990, p. 177)—necessarily vary across stages of teacher development in their construction of professional vision, and (c) principles to govern power dynamics and avoid the imposition of professional vision (Lefstein & Snell, 2011).
A third limitation is that ICEP rubric codes were content-neutral. They did not address features of dialogue specific to learning mathematics (the content Molly and Jordan chose to focus on), such as asking students to explain problem-solving strategies or exploring errors together to make meaning (Munter, 2014). Lacking codes specific to discussing math could undermine the professional vision and pedagogical sensitivity, judgment, and reasoning that Molly and Jordan might have otherwise constructed. On the other hand, arguments can be made in favor of content-neutral codes as well, such as enabling teachers to generalize equitable practice across lessons. More research is needed on the costs and benefits of discipline-specific versus generic codes used to manage dilemmas in assisting teachers’ professional vision.
Forty years ago, Lampert (1985) asserted that “a teacher has the potential to act with integrity while maintaining contradictory concerns” (p. 184). Like her, we see tensions and dilemmas as generative, including in the teacher-researcher relationship. Teachers want to develop visions of equitable teaching without having them imposed by others. We encourage designs for teacher teams to approach these dilemmas as opportunities—in order to realize and sustain needed transformations in teaching through meaningful supports for teacher learning.
Transcription Conventions
[] – transcriber notes, including descriptions of important non-language events, such as laughter, or edits to maintain anonymity.
[crosstalk] – a moment of speech that is indecipherable due to participants talking over each other.
[inaudible] – a moment of speech that is indecipherable because the participant spoke quietly or because of some form of interference that is not another participant talking.
“” – reported speech.
— (em dash) – an interruption. Self-interruptions where the same speaker changes track are indicated by a continuation of the same talk turn. Interruptions by others are indicated by starting a new talk turn. Interruptions are only indicated with an em dash when they do not also contain crosstalk.
. . . (ellipsis) - a pause in an individual’s speech that is not a self-interruption. An ellipsis at the end of a turn of talk indicates trailing off.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
We also wish to acknowledge and thank the teachers, school leaders, and other ICEP project collaborators from whom we learned a great deal.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The authors disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: Data for this study came from two funding sources. First, the Native Hawaiian Education Program of the U.S. Department of Education (grant #S362A210107) led by Dr. Lois Yamauchi at the University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa. Second, a research grant led by Dr. Bryant Jensen from the McKay School of Education at BYU.
Note: This manuscript was accepted under the editorial team of Kara S. Finnigan, Editor in Chief.
Notes
Authors
BRYANT JENSEN is a Professor of Teacher Education at Brigham Young University. His work addresses what it means to teach equitably and how to support teachers in school-based teams across the world to learn to enact equitable teaching practices in marginalized communities.
ALIZA SEGAL is a senior lecturer at the School of Education, Ben-Gurion University of the Negev. Her research and teaching focus on teacher learning, pedagogy, classroom discourse, and religion and education.
TAYLOR TOPHAM is a PhD student in Learning Sciences at Northwestern University. His research interests include teacher learning, representations of teaching practice, interaction analysis, and organizational change.
ADAM LEFSTEIN is the Morton L. Mandel Director of the Seymour Fox School of Education at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. His research and teaching focus on pedagogy, classroom interaction, teacher learning, educational change, and the relationships between academic and professional knowledge and practices.