Alineamiento de la secuencia de EP153R con moléculas CD69 de diverso origen

In light of this view, I believe that the involvement of teachers in the research process is essential. Teachers are at the front line of our education system, responsible for the everyday teaching and learning of the pupils in our care. It is our understanding of our individual learning environments which enables us to identify suitable teaching approaches for our pupils. This notion that teachers should not only be involved in research, but also have control over it, is not a radical one: this view is evident in the work of numerous academics, including Carr (2007), and his work on Aristotelian practical philosophy, as

87

well as Sachs (2000) and Groundwater-Smith & Mockler (2007). Elliott (2001), for

example, stresses that for educational research ‘teachers need to be involved in prioritising their educational aims […], in defining what is to count as relevant evidence […] and interpreting its practical significance for them’ (Elliott, 2001: p. 565). Similarly, Hall likens challenges in the classroom to ‘the grit in the oyster that motivates teachers to undertake enquiry and the pursuit of greater understanding becomes part of professional practice and identity’ (2009: p. 672).

It is also interesting to note that Rudduck (1985) claims that because classroom research is undertaken by teachers ‘the research act must be educationally justifiable: at no time can research curiosities subvert educational principles’ (p. 124). Whilst I believe that this idea is perhaps naïve, I agree that the undertaking of research is a fundamental element of the teacher’s role. Indeed, Rudduck argues that

‘it is the child in the everyday world of the classroom, where the pattern of teaching and learning remains unexamined, that is at risk because he or she is subject to constant unmonitored and unreflected-on action. Not to examine one's practice is irresponsible: to regard teaching as an experiment and to monitor one's performance is a responsible professional act’ (1985: p. 124).

I would also argue that teachers are ideally placed to understand the realities of their own working context. They alone are immersed in their individual classrooms, are fully able to understand the intentions and impact of their own teaching, and therefore it must surely be acknowledged that they are in a unique position to first identify an area worthy of further research and, once this has been accomplished, to interpret the resultant findings. I believe that I am not alone in holding this view. Indeed, Lytle and Cochran-Smith (1992) write that:

‘because teaching requires simultaneous attention to many agendas and because it provides the opportunity for constant observation of particular phenomena, such as children's drawing or writing, teacher researchers' analytic frameworks are extraordinarily rich and complex. What we mean here is that when teacher researchers turn their attention to children's drawing, for example, they bring a historical framework based on a thousand other drawings and what these drawings meant for particular children at particular times and places. Hence, they ask questions that other researchers may not ask, and they see patterns that others may not be able to see’ (p. 465).

88

Yet whilst I agree whole-heartedly that research is a key element of a teacher’s role, and that a teacher’s role within the classroom enables a unique insight into the complex dynamics which influence teaching and learning, I believe that, in West Side School and, indeed, in our current education system in general, the potential for learning and

development is unfulfilled. For example, Hall (2009) observes that the ‘discourse in the UK of ‘research-informed’ practice positions the teacher as an observer of the research process and a consumer of research products’ (p. 678). Like Hall, I am concerned with the

‘passivity’ (2009: p. 678) this may create, together with a failure to recognize that it is our understanding of our individual learning environments which enables us to identify suitable teaching approaches for our pupils. Instead, I agree with Furlong and Oancea (2005) that there is no clear division between the realms of research, policy and practice, but instead these are ‘integrated activities that borrow from each other, inform each other and support each other’ (p. 8).

It is important to note that this stance holds profound implications for this research. I have positioned myself at the very centre of this research, and this leads to several potential complications. For example, in light of my role as teacher-researcher, it was important to consider issues surrounding consent from both pupils and parents, whilst avoiding engendering any sense of obligation to engage in this research. Furthermore, it was essential to carefully consider how it would be possible to avoid, as far possible, any bias resultant from my relationship with pupils. Nevertheless, whilst these are undoubtedly highly important issues, issues which I had foreseen at the outset of research and which will be addressed throughout the course of this chapter, I believe that this position also had consequences which extended far beyond this, and which only became apparent as research progressed.

These consequences predominantly concerned the ways in which my beliefs influenced the ways in which methods were selected; research was adapted to suit the needs of the pupils, becoming more cyclical to take into account areas of interest arising from the data and in an attempt to improve educational outcomes; and even a significant shift in the very evidence which I was willing to include and acknowledge, from an initial, subconscious quantitative bias towards a final embracing of qualitative evidence. This investigation was

89

substantially altered over the course of research as a result of my changing understanding of myself, reflecting my evolving - and increasingly confident - understanding of myself as a teacher-researcher, ultimately becoming a hidden, or unexpected, facet of research which emerged throughout the course of this investigation. I understood, from the outset of research, that, as a teacher-researcher investigating my own classroom, I would, of course, be inextricably linked to this research, yet I believe that, even so, I underestimated the extent of this. I hate to sound egotistical, but, ultimately, this research really did become all about me, my teaching practice, and my professional learning as a teacher-researcher.

This conclusion is, I believe, further evidence that this research is related to practical science which also places the practitioner at the centre of research by enabling them

‘reflectively to expose and critically revise the presuppositions inherent in their practice enables them to reconstruct their knowledge and understanding of how its internal ‘good’ is to be more appropriately pursued’ (Carr, 2007: p. 280). Therefore, practical science can be seen as a means by which practitioners – teacher-researchers – may consider and explore practice in order to acquire self-knowledge – knowledge about themselves, together with the beliefs and assumptions which underpin their individual practice – and, in the process of doing so, allows them to ‘evaluate their practice on the basis of a coherent and clearly articulated educational point of view. In this sense, it is a form of educational research that allows practitioners to reconstruct their practice as an educational practice in a rational and reflective way’ (Carr, 2007: p. 282).