The other afternoon K-1 teacher Mary Driebe and I were having a conversation about some of the research she is conducting in the classroom. We were discussing how she and her collaborating colleagues have recently arranged for the classroom studio to be available to children to work on their own or in small groups of two or three during the time we call Investigative Research (IR). Mary had a theory that projects undertaken during IR were only a part of what children needed and were capable of. She wanted to explore which children were attracted to an open studio; whether children could gain greater independence with materials and ideas, given sufficient time; and what would develop if children had greater choice of materials, groupings and process. So the teachers set up the studio to accommodate small groups, they made it available every day, and they observed.

While the process of discovery came as no surprise to her—she has been working as a teacher-researcher for almost two years—Mary reports several significant findings. Thus far, she has come to realize that some children need to take a break from project groups to accommodate their learning through the creation of tangential projects that add personal depth to a collective understanding; that some children need challenges set in front of them and more time for co-construction with an adult; that some children are eager to take on new forms of media (photography, collage) and willingly and intuitively use the time to explore and understand the qualities of new materials, tools, and media; and that some children are capable of enormous independence and can virtually direct their own research. The teachers’ hunch—that children needed freer access to the studio and longer, uninterrupted periods of time in order to further clarify their intentions and to demonstrate greater independence, depth of expression, and capability in learning—proved to be correct.

This episode offers a glimpse of the work of our school’s teacher-researchers. The kind of research that takes place in the classroom and sometimes in the moment is practical; with the researcher as an active participant, it is meant to change, improve, and again revise practice. This is action research, and teachers who employ this approach in their classrooms are considered teacher-researchers. Karen Gallas, in her 2003 book Imagination and Literacy: A Teacher’s Search for the Heart of Learning says of her work on a particular project that “my process as a teacher-researcher changed my practice, which in turn changed my theoretical framework, which again changed my process as a teacher-researcher, and so on.”

This cycle of change and development in teaching is not a new phenomenon: it emerged in the 1940’s, and today there are threads of this work in education schools at many universities, where the critical reflection that lies at the core of this approach is taught as best practice. But the teacher-researcher approach is not the norm, and bringing this practice into elementary-level education is a relatively new venture. Our teachers are leading the way.

My conversation with Mary brought the value of this work into focus for me. Not only does it enrich the learning of the children in our classrooms, but it also gave me a new perspective on my own work. Several years ago, preschool teacher Sara Ferguson and I worked with a group of three-year-olds who wanted to create an ‘airplane.’ Through this work, we came to better understand the natural propensity young children have for taking on leadership. Talking with Mary, I realized we too had observed the need of one child to move out of the group to work alone before he could move back into the group to contribute and be active. Sara and I had understood the experience only in terms of the particular child, but Mary’s learning shed new light on our earlier work, and now we are all more informed about what children might need in the course of a project. The value of teacher research is that it enlivens the intellect of the community, and awakens us all to learning.

One point about this enriching practice of teacher research: it takes time. There is the time spent with children to observe and record; time outside the classroom to process the documentation; and most especially, time for reflection through collaborative conversations and thoughtful writing. This work is so deeply nuanced and thrilling, that you, like I, may find it difficult not to become impatient with the process, not to ask more of teachers, not to ask them to move faster in their own work and faster with the children.But Carlina Rinaldi, our colleague from the schools of Reggio Emilia, Italy reminds us to “hasten slowly.”

This year, the tone of our faculty gatherings has been earnest, with many contributions from collaborative teacher research. The math curriculum committee, consisting of representatives from the middle and lower schools, held research meetings throughout the year, and the full faculty was captivated by a presentation of Cat Henney’s work on developmental math. Preschool teachers recently collaborated to plan for a symbolic parent/teacher-created year-end gift for each child. Faculty meetings have addressed such serious topics as developing a culture of literacy, keeping children at the heart of traditions, and understanding the effects on learning of beliefs about intelligence. Over time it is our goal to fully develop the school-wide infrastructure needed to support all of our teachers in reflective practice—they are the future of Sabot at Stony Point.

Marty Gravett is Sabot at Stony Point’s pedagogista, with responsibility for leading the development of our curriculum and educational program. On our campus this summer, she will be co-teaching, with Pam Oken-Wright, a graduate-level course on “The Constructivist Classroom: Everyone Teaches, Everyone Learns,” offered through the Office of Continuing Studies summer workshop series at Virginia Commonwealth University.