Academic literature on the topic 'Curriculum planning – Study and teaching (Continuing education) – Botswana'

<p>Teaching and learning in Contemporary Higher Education is experiencing a change of paradigm in the approach used for curriculum design and instruction. This paper examines the application of democratisation of teaching and learning as a crucial tool for the implementation of the Tuning Approach in the teaching and learning processes in higher education. A qualitative research approach was used to collect information from two institutions of higher learning in Botswana. Findings from the study indicate, that, there are democratic elements in the teaching and learning processes as evidenced by the use of the learning –outcomes approach in lesson planning by the lecturers, and in the various ways students are engaged in teaching and learning processes. However, the study revealed that students are not fully involved in planning curriculum and workload.</p>

This study identified the knowledge base and practices of Registered Nurse,. Certified Diabetes Educators (RN, CDEs) regarding their exercise teaching programs for elderly clients who have non-insulin-dependent diabetes mellitus (NIDDM). The random sample of 197 AADE members surveyed by questionnaire was a highly educated and experienced group. RN, CDEs who worked 30 or more hours per week in diabetes education or attended four or more continuing education (CE) programs per year had significantly more comprehensive exercise teaching program designs and instructional techniques to enhance elderly NIDDM clients' learning (P<.05). However; many CDEs do not teach their elderly clients about exercise due to lack of resources, lack of specific knowledge to prescribe exercise, and negative stereotypes of elderly clients' ability to exercise. Greater availability of educational programs for CDEs to explore curriculum development, program planning, evaluation, and exercise prescription for elderly clients with multisystem disease is recommended.

Introduction: Adolescent pregnancy is a global public health problem, for which healthcare providers (HCPs) play a critical role to prevent unintended pregnancy. This study investigated the knowledge, attitude and practice (KAP) of HCPs towards the use of contraceptives in adolescents.Results: Of the 101 eligible for the study, 79.2% HCPs from the selected clinics and hospital responded. The majority (91.2%) of respondents felt confident to explain to adolescents how to use old contraceptive methods such as oral contraceptives or IUCD, less than half of the respondents (41.3%) were confident to explain how to use new contraceptive methods such as transdermal contraceptive patches or vaginal rings. Medical doctors felt more confident to prescribe new contraceptive methods compared with nurses, both vaginal rings (p-value = 0.0006) and transdermal contraceptive patches (p-value = 0.0003). More than two-thirds of the respondents disagreed that beliefs influenced their ability to offer contraceptive services to adolescents, half of the respondents strongly disagreed that it was morally wrong for adolescents to use contraceptives. Although three-quarters of respondents strongly agreed (median = 5, [IQR 5–6]) that they were comfortable with prescribing contraceptives to adolescents, only 23% of the respondents very much prescribed or always prescribed contraceptives to adolescents.Conclusion: Most of the HCPs prescribed contraceptives irregularly, and had limited knowledge about newer methods. To change HCPs’ KAP, in addition to continuing medical education (CME), the establishment of family planning clinics for adolescents and more undergraduate contraceptive teaching for medical and nursing students could result in the increased utilisation of contraceptive services by adolescents.

This volume of Frontiers: The Interdisciplinary Journal of Study Abroad offers a wide variety of approaches and topics in international education research. First, readers will note the geographic diversity that the articles represent; they examine study abroad topics in Africa, Argentina, Costa Rica, France, Nepal, Thailand, and Vietnam. Second, the articles cover a wide-range of issues, including language acquisition, risk management, recruitment of minority students for study abroad, evaluation of cultural integration, and financial inequities in study abroad. Third, this volume contains articles by a variety of authors, including U.S.-based study abroad administrators, faculty members, and on-site resident directors. Finally, the modes of inquiry are as varied as the topics and authors. Research approaches in this volume include survey instruments, interviews, participant observation, case studies, literature review, as well as analytical essays. This diversity of geography, issues, authors, and modes of inquiry has from the beginning characterized the content of Frontiers and been one of its chief strengths. When the first volume of Frontiers appeared in 1995, one was hard pressed to find many research-based and analytical studies in the field, let alone the diversity of such work that this volume represents. In this regard, Frontiers has matured along with the field of international education, and today, almost ten years later, this volume reflects the growing importance being placed on research on the critical aspects of our work. The opening article by Lilli Engle and John Engle, “Study Abroad Levels: Toward a Classification of Program Types,” offers a revolutionary perspective by which international educators may categorize and judge study abroad programs. Their proposed typology makes qualitative distinctions between study abroad program models based on their view of a spectrum of cultural immersion. Frontiers readers will find their analysis provocative, stimulating study abroad professionals to examine programming in useful ways. In “Women and Cultural Learning in Costa Rica: Reading the Contexts,” Adele Anderson reviews research on Costa Rica’s cultural context, student adjustment and tourism theory, relating them to American student experiences, and she includes data from ethnographic observations and interviews collected during three years as a resident director of short-term programs. Anderson introduces a tool that may be used by resident directors to guide student cultural adjustment more systematically. Mark Ritchie, an on-site resident director in Thailand, provides a very useful analysis of study abroad risk management in his article, “Risk Management in Study Abroad: Lessons from the Wilderness.” Ritchie draws upon the principles of wilderness education, especially as it is conducted in developing countries, in offering recommendations for study abroad risk management. Readers will appreciate his suggestions for reducing risk by applying the experiential techniques of wilderness education. J. Scott Van Der Meid’s study, “Asian Americans: Factors Influencing the Decision to Study Abroad,” examines the factors that influence Asian American students’ decision to study abroad, and provides useful suggestions for considering ways to increase study abroad participation among this population. As the field of study abroad continues to seek ways to increase minority participation in study abroad, Van Der Meid’s study offers a model for examining this question among all ethnic groups. In their analysis of an innovative Vietnam study abroad program, “History Lived and Learned: Students and Vietnam Veterans in an Integrative Study Abroad Course,” Raymond Scurfield, Leslie Root, and Andrew Wiest et al, analyze the collaborative learning experience of students and Vietnam veterans in a program that combined the teaching of Vietnam culture and military history with an exploration of the mental health aspects of combat and post-war recovery of the veterans. This article discusses the lessons learned from the experience of designing and implementing a study abroad program that integrates history education with therapeutic objectives. Jennifer Coffman and Kevin Brennan analyze the economic imbalance of African educational exchange with the United States in their article, “African Studies Abroad: Meaning and Impact of America’s Burgeoning Export Industry.” Coffman and Brennan recommend developing more equitable models of reciprocity by examining the economics of U.S. – African exchanges, and by reconsidering the ways in which African study abroad programs are conceived and implemented in light of their social and intellectual impact. “Development of Oral Communication Skills Abroad” by Christina Isabelli-Garcia examines the impact of a semester study abroad program in Argentina on the second language acquisition of three American university Spanish learners. Isabelli-Garcia’s study measures the development of two aspects of communications skills: first, fluency and performance in the oral functions of narration, and, second, description and supporting an opinion. Her study provides insight into the conditions of a study abroad program that best promote the acquisition of improved oral communication skills in a target language. In “Studying Abroad in Nepal: Assessing Impact,” Patricia Farrell and Murari Suvedi present the perceived impact of studying in Nepal on students’ academic program, personal development, and intellectual development. Using a survey instrument as well as interviews and case studies, the authors link the reported outcomes to the objectives of the study abroad program. We are pleased to include in this volume of Frontiers an essay by Patti McGill Peterson, “New Directions for the Global Century.” McGill Peterson’s analysis of the changing and challenging context for global education inspires us to meet the demands of the 21st century with determination, creativity, and enhanced global collaboration. This volume of Frontiers concludes with reviews of books of interest to international educators, each relating to diverse intellectual foundations of the field: Jean-Philippe Mathy’s Extrême-Occident: French Intellectuals and America, Louis Menand’s The Metaphysical Club: A Story of Ideas in America, and First Great Triumph: How Five Americans Made Their Country a World Power by Warren Zimmermann. We encourage our readers to continue to suggest books of interest, and to submit reviews for consideration. The update on the Forum on Education Abroad that appears at the back of this volume reflects the continuing fruitful collaboration between Frontiers and the Forum. Together with the Forum, Frontiers will continue to encourage and support research studies on study abroad topics, and to disseminate this research as widely as possible. The next volume of Frontiers, due to be published in November, 2004, will be our tenth anniversary volume. It is appropriate that this anniversary volume will be a Special Issue that focuses on the assessment of the learning outcomes of study abroad, a topic that reflects the maturation of a field that is now beginning to document the results of its activity. Other Special Issues that are in the planning stages include: curriculum integration and study abroad, the arts and study abroad, and student development and study abroad. Finally, I want to thank the new sponsors of Frontiers who, together with our existing sponsors, make the publication of this journal possible. The sponsors of Frontiers are institutions with a strong commitment to international education, and we are proud to be supported by them. The editorial board takes seriously its responsibility to provide the very best writing about and research on study abroad to our readers, and the support of our sponsors makes this mission possible. Brian J. Whalen Editor

While the term “visual literacy” has grown in popularity in the last 50 years, its meaning remains nebulous. It is described variously as: a vehicle for aesthetic appreciation, a means of defence against visual manipulation, a sorting mechanism for an increasingly data-saturated age, and a prerequisite to civic inclusion (Fransecky 23; Messaris 181; McTigue and Flowers 580). Scholars have written extensively about the first three subjects but there has been less research on how visual literacy frames civic life and how it might help the public as a tool to address disadvantage and assist in removing social and cultural barriers. This article examines a forerunner to visual literacy in the push to create an international symbol language born out of popular education movements, a project that fell short of its goals but still left a considerable impression on graphic media. This article, then, presents an analysis of visual literacy campaigns in the early postwar era. These campaigns did not attempt to invent a symbolic language but posited that images themselves served as a universal language in which students could receive training. Of particular interest is how the concept of visual literacy has been mobilised as a pedagogical tool in design, digital humanities and in broader civic education initiatives promoted by Third Space institutions. Behind the creation of new visual literacy curricula is the idea that images can help anchor a world community, supplementing textual communication. Figure 1: Visual Literacy Yearbook. Montebello Unified School District, USA, 1973. Shedding Light: Origins of the Visual Literacy Frame The term “visual literacy” came to the fore in the early 1970s on the heels of mass literacy campaigns. The educators, creatives and media theorists who first advocated for visual learning linked this aim to literacy, an unassailable goal, to promote a more radical curricular overhaul. They challenged a system that had hitherto only acknowledged a very limited pathway towards academic success; pushing “language and mathematics”, courses “referred to as solids (something substantial) as contrasted with liquids or gases (courses with little or no substance)” (Eisner 92). This was deemed “a parochial view of both human ability and the possibilities of education” that did not acknowledge multiple forms of intelligence (Gardner). This change not only integrated elements of mass culture that had been rejected in education, notably film and graphic arts, but also encouraged the critique of images as a form of good citizenship, assuming that visually literate arbiters could call out media misrepresentations and manipulative political advertising (Messaris, “Visual Test”). This movement was, in many ways, reactive to new forms of mass media that began to replace newspapers as key forms of civic participation. Unlike simple literacy (being able to decipher letters as a mnemonic system), visual literacy involves imputing meanings to images where meanings are less fixed, yet still with embedded cultural signifiers. Visual literacy promised to extend enlightenment metaphors of sight (as in the German Aufklärung) and illumination (as in the French Lumières) to help citizens understand an increasingly complex marketplace of images. The move towards visual literacy was not so much a shift towards images (and away from books and oration) but an affirmation of the need to critically investigate the visual sphere. It introduced doubt to previously upheld hierarchies of perception. Sight, to Kant the “noblest of the senses” (158), was no longer the sense “least affected” by the surrounding world but an input centre that was equally manipulable. In Kant’s view of societal development, the “cosmopolitan” held the key to pacifying bellicose states and ensuring global prosperity and tranquillity. The process of developing a cosmopolitan ideology rests, according to Kant, on the gradual elimination of war and “the education of young people in intellectual and moral culture” (188-89). Transforming disparate societies into “a universal cosmopolitan existence” that would “at last be realised as the matrix within which all the original capacities of the human race may develop” and would take well-funded educational institutions and, potentially, a new framework for imparting knowledge (Kant 51). To some, the world of the visual presented a baseline for shared experience. Figure 2: Exhibition by the Gesellschafts- und Wirtschaftsmuseum in Vienna, photograph c. 1927. An International Picture Language The quest to find a mutually intelligible language that could “bridge worlds” and solder together all of humankind goes back to the late nineteenth century and the Esperanto movement of Ludwig Zamenhof (Schor 59). The expression of this ideal in the world of the visual picked up steam in the interwar years with designers and editors like Fritz Kahn, Gerd Arntz, and Otto and Marie Neurath. Their work transposing complex ideas into graphic form has been rediscovered as an antecedent to modern infographics, but the symbols they deployed were not to merely explain, but also help education and build international fellowship unbounded by spoken language. The Neuraths in particular are celebrated for their international picture language or Isotypes. These pictograms (sometimes viewed as proto-emojis) can be used to represent data without text. Taken together they are an “intemporal, hieroglyphic language” that Neutrath hoped would unite working-class people the world over (Lee 159). The Neuraths’ work was done in the explicit service of visual education with a popular socialist agenda and incubated in the social sphere of Red Vienna at the Gesellschafts- und Wirtschaftsmuseum (Social and Economic Museum) where Otto served as Director. The Wirtschaftsmuseum was an experiment in popular education, with multiple branches and late opening hours to accommodate the “the working man [who] has time to see a museum only at night” (Neurath 72-73). The Isotype contained universalist aspirations for the “making of a world language, or a helping picture language—[that] will give support to international developments generally” and “educate by the eye” (Neurath 13). Figure 3: Gerd Arntz Isotype Images. (Source: University of Reading.) The Isotype was widely adopted in the postwar era in pre-packaged sets of symbols used in graphic design and wayfinding systems for buildings and transportation networks, but with the socialism of the Neuraths’ peeled away, leaving only the system of logos that we are familiar with from airport washrooms, charts, and public transport maps. Much of the uptake in this symbol language could be traced to increased mobility and tourism, particularly in countries that did not make use of a Roman alphabet. The 1964 Olympics in Tokyo helped pave the way when organisers, fearful of jumbling too many scripts together, opted instead for black and white icons to represent the program of sports that summer. The new focus on the visual was both technologically mediated—cheaper printing and broadcast technologies made the diffusion of image increasingly possible—but also ideologically supported by a growing emphasis on projects that transcended linguistic, ethnic, and national borders. The Olympic symbols gradually morphed into Letraset icons, and, later, symbols in the Unicode Standard, which are the basis for today’s emojis. Wordless signs helped facilitate interconnectedness, but only in the most literal sense; their application was limited primarily to sports mega-events, highway maps, and “brand building”, and they never fulfilled their role as an educational language “to give the different nations a common outlook” (Neurath 18). Universally understood icons, particularly in the form of emojis, point to a rise in visual communication but they have fallen short as a cosmopolitan project, supporting neither the globalisation of Kantian ethics nor the transnational socialism of the Neuraths. Figure 4: Symbols in use. Women's bathroom. 1964 Tokyo Olympics. (Source: The official report of the Organizing Committee.) Counter Education By mid-century, the optimism of a universal symbol language seemed dated, and focus shifted from distillation to discernment. New educational programs presented ways to study images, increasingly reproducible with new technologies, as a language in and of themselves. These methods had their roots in the fin-de-siècle educational reforms of John Dewey, Helen Parkhurst, and Maria Montessori. As early as the 1920s, progressive educators were using highly visual magazines, like National Geographic, as the basis for lesson planning, with the hopes that they would “expose students to edifying and culturally enriching reading” and “develop a more catholic taste or sensibility, representing an important cosmopolitan value” (Hawkins 45). The rise in imagery from previously inaccessible regions helped pupils to see themselves in relation to the larger world (although this connection always came with the presumed superiority of the reader). “Pictorial education in public schools” taught readers—through images—to accept a broader world but, too often, they saw photographs as a “straightforward transcription of the real world” (Hawkins 57). The images of cultures and events presented in Life and National Geographic for the purposes of education and enrichment were now the subject of greater analysis in the classroom, not just as “windows into new worlds” but as cultural products in and of themselves. The emerging visual curriculum aimed to do more than just teach with previously excluded modes (photography, film and comics); it would investigate how images presented and mediated the world. This gained wider appeal with new analytical writing on film, like Raymond Spottiswoode's Grammar of the Film (1950) which sought to formulate the grammatical rules of visual communication (Messaris 181), influenced by semiotics and structural linguistics; the emphasis on grammar can also be seen in far earlier writings on design systems such as Owen Jones’s 1856 The Grammar of Ornament, which also advocated for new, universalising methods in design education (Sloboda 228). The inventorying impulse is on display in books like Donis A. Dondis’s A Primer of Visual Literacy (1973), a text that meditates on visual perception but also functions as an introduction to line and form in the applied arts, picking up where the Bauhaus left off. Dondis enumerates the “syntactical guidelines” of the applied arts with illustrations that are in keeping with 1920s books by Kandinsky and Klee and analyse pictorial elements. However, at the end of the book she shifts focus with two chapters that examine “messaging” and visual literacy explicitly. Dondis predicts that “an intellectual, trained ability to make and understand visual messages is becoming a vital necessity to involvement with communication. It is quite likely that visual literacy will be one of the fundamental measures of education in the last third of our century” (33) and she presses for more programs that incorporate the exploration and analysis of images in tertiary education. Figure 5: Ideal spatial environment for the Blueprint charts, 1970. (Image: Inventory Press.) Visual literacy in education arrived in earnest with a wave of publications in the mid-1970s. They offered ways for students to understand media processes and for teachers to use visual culture as an entry point into complex social and scientific subject matter, tapping into the “visual consciousness of the ‘television generation’” (Fransecky 5). Visual culture was often seen as inherently democratising, a break from stuffiness, the “artificialities of civilisation”, and the “archaic structures” that set sensorial perception apart from scholarship (Dworkin 131-132). Many radical university projects and community education initiatives of the 1960s made use of new media in novel ways: from Maurice Stein and Larry Miller’s fold-out posters accompanying Blueprint for Counter Education (1970) to Emory Douglas’s graphics for The Black Panther newspaper. Blueprint’s text- and image-dense wall charts were made via assemblage and they were imagined less as charts and more as a “matrix of resources” that could be used—and added to—by youth to undertake their own counter education (Cronin 53). These experiments in visual learning helped to break down old hierarchies in education, but their aim was influenced more by countercultural notions of disruption than the universal ideals of cosmopolitanism. From Image as Text to City as Text For a brief period in the 1970s, thinkers like Marshall McLuhan (McLuhan et al., Massage) and artists like Bruno Munari (Tanchis and Munari) collaborated fruitfully with graphic designers to create books that mixed text and image in novel ways. Using new compositional methods, they broke apart traditional printing lock-ups to superimpose photographs, twist text, and bend narrative frames. The most famous work from this era is, undoubtedly, The Medium Is the Massage (1967), McLuhan’s team-up with graphic designer Quentin Fiore, but it was followed by dozens of other books intended to communicate theory and scientific ideas with popularising graphics. Following in the footsteps of McLuhan, many of these texts sought not just to explain an issue but to self-consciously reference their own method of information delivery. These works set the precedent for visual aids (and, to a lesser extent, audio) that launched a diverse, non-hierarchical discourse that was nonetheless bound to tactile artefacts. In 1977, McLuhan helped develop a media textbook for secondary school students called City as Classroom: Understanding Language and Media. It is notable for its direct address style and its focus on investigating spaces outside of the classroom (provocatively, a section on the third page begins with “Should all schools be closed?”). The book follows with a fine-grained analysis of advertising forms in which students are asked to first bring advertisements into class for analysis and later to go out into the city to explore “a man-made environment, a huge warehouse of information, a vast resource to be mined free of charge” (McLuhan et al., City 149). As a document City as Classroom is critical of existing teaching methods, in line with the radical “in the streets” pedagogy of its day. McLuhan’s theories proved particularly salient for the counter education movement, in part because they tapped into a healthy scepticism of advertisers and other image-makers. They also dovetailed with growing discontent with the ad-strew visual environment of cities in the 1970s. Budgets for advertising had mushroomed in the1960s and outdoor advertising “cluttered” cities with billboards and neon, generating “fierce intensities and new hybrid energies” that threatened to throw off the visual equilibrium (McLuhan 74). Visual literacy curricula brought in experiential learning focussed on the legibility of the cities, mapping, and the visualisation of urban issues with social justice implications. The Detroit Geographical Expedition and Institute (DGEI), a “collective endeavour of community research and education” that arose in the aftermath of the 1967 uprisings, is the most storied of the groups that suffused the collection of spatial data with community engagement and organising (Warren et al. 61). The following decades would see a tamed approach to visual literacy that, while still pressing for critical reading, did not upend traditional methods of educational delivery. Figure 6: Beginning a College Program-Assisting Teachers to Develop Visual Literacy Approaches in Public School Classrooms. 1977. ERIC. Searching for Civic Education The visual literacy initiatives formed in the early 1970s both affirmed existing civil society institutions while also asserting the need to better inform the public. Most of the campaigns were sponsored by universities, major libraries, and international groups such as UNESCO, which published its “Declaration on Media Education” in 1982. They noted that “participation” was “essential to the working of a pluralistic and representative democracy” and the “public—users, citizens, individuals, groups ... were too systematically overlooked”. Here, the public is conceived as both “targets of the information and communication process” and users who “should have the last word”. To that end their “continuing education” should be ensured (Study 18). Programs consisted primarily of cognitive “see-scan-analyse” techniques (Little et al.) for younger students but some also sought to bring visual analysis to adult learners via continuing education (often through museums eager to engage more diverse audiences) and more radical popular education programs sponsored by community groups. By the mid-80s, scores of modules had been built around the comprehension of visual media and had become standard educational fare across North America, Australasia, and to a lesser extent, Europe. There was an increasing awareness of the role of data and image presentation in decision-making, as evidenced by the surprising commercial success of Edward Tufte’s 1982 book, The Visual Display of Quantitative Information. Visual literacy—or at least image analysis—was now enmeshed in teaching practice and needed little active advocacy. Scholarly interest in the subject went into a brief period of hibernation in the 1980s and early 1990s, only to be reborn with the arrival of new media distribution technologies (CD-ROMs and then the internet) in classrooms and the widespread availability of digital imaging technology starting in the late 1990s; companies like Adobe distributed free and reduced-fee licences to schools and launched extensive teacher training programs. Visual literacy was reanimated but primarily within a circumscribed academic field of education and data visualisation. Figure 7: Visual Literacy; What Research Says to the Teacher, 1975. National Education Association. USA. Part of the shifting frame of visual literacy has to do with institutional imperatives, particularly in places where austerity measures forced strange alliances between disciplines. What had been a project in alternative education morphed into an uncontested part of the curriculum and a dependable budget line. This shift was already forecasted in 1972 by Harun Farocki who, writing in Filmkritik, noted that funding for new film schools would be difficult to obtain but money might be found for “training in media education … a discipline that could persuade ministers of education, that would at the same time turn the budget restrictions into an advantage, and that would match the functions of art schools” (98). Nearly 50 years later educators are still using media education (rebranded as visual or media literacy) to make the case for fine arts and humanities education. While earlier iterations of visual literacy education were often too reliant on the idea of cracking the “code” of images, they did promote ways of learning that were a deep departure from the rote methods of previous generations. Next-gen curricula frame visual literacy as largely supplemental—a resource, but not a program. By the end of the 20th century, visual literacy had changed from a scholarly interest to a standard resource in the “teacher’s toolkit”, entering into school programs and influencing museum education, corporate training, and the development of public-oriented media (Literacy). An appreciation of image culture was seen as key to creating empathetic global citizens, but its scope was increasingly limited. With rising austerity in the education sector (a shift that preceded the 2008 recession by decades in some countries), art educators, museum enrichment staff, and design researchers need to make a case for why their disciplines were relevant in pedagogical models that are increasingly aimed at “skills-based” and “job ready” teaching. Arts educators worked hard to insert their fields into learning goals for secondary students as visual literacy, with the hope that “literacy” would carry the weight of an educational imperative and not a supplementary field of study. Conclusion For nearly a century, educational initiatives have sought to inculcate a cosmopolitan perspective with a variety of teaching materials and pedagogical reference points. Symbolic languages, like the Isotype, looked to unite disparate people with shared visual forms; while educational initiatives aimed to train the eyes of students to make them more discerning citizens. The term ‘visual literacy’ emerged in the 1960s and has since been deployed in programs with a wide variety of goals. Countercultural initiatives saw it as a prerequisite for popular education from the ground up, but, in the years since, it has been formalised and brought into more staid curricula, often as a sort of shorthand for learning from media and pictures. The grand cosmopolitan vision of a complete ‘visual language’ has been scaled back considerably, but still exists in trace amounts. Processes of globalisation require images to universalise experiences, commodities, and more for people without shared languages. Emoji alphabets and globalese (brands and consumer messaging that are “visual-linguistic” amalgams “increasingly detached from any specific ethnolinguistic group or locality”) are a testament to a mediatised banal cosmopolitanism (Jaworski 231). In this sense, becoming “fluent” in global design vernacular means familiarity with firms and products, an understanding that is aesthetic, not critical. It is very much the beneficiaries of globalisation—both state and commercial actors—who have been able to harness increasingly image-based technologies for their benefit. To take a humorous but nonetheless consequential example, Spanish culinary boosters were able to successfully lobby for a paella emoji (Miller) rather than having a food symbol from a less wealthy country such as a Senegalese jollof or a Morrocan tagine. This trend has gone even further as new forms of visual communication are increasingly streamlined and managed by for-profit media platforms. The ubiquity of these forms of communication and their global reach has made visual literacy more important than ever but it has also fundamentally shifted the endeavour from a graphic sorting practice to a critical piece of social infrastructure that has tremendous political ramifications. Visual literacy campaigns hold out the promise of educating students in an image-based system with the potential to transcend linguistic and cultural boundaries. This cosmopolitan political project has not yet been realised, as the visual literacy frame has drifted into specialised silos of art, design, and digital humanities education. It can help bridge the “incomplete connections” of an increasingly globalised world (Calhoun 112), but it does not have a program in and of itself. Rather, an evolving visual literacy curriculum might be seen as a litmus test for how we imagine the role of images in the world. References Brown, Neil. “The Myth of Visual Literacy.” Australian Art Education 13.2 (1989): 28-32. Calhoun, Craig. “Cosmopolitanism in the Modern Social Imaginary.” Daedalus 137.3 (2008): 105–114. Cronin, Paul. “Recovering and Rendering Vital Blueprint for Counter Education at the California Institute for the Arts.” Blueprint for Counter Education. Inventory Press, 2016. 36-58. Dondis, Donis A. A Primer of Visual Literacy. MIT P, 1973. Dworkin, M.S. “Toward an Image Curriculum: Some Questions and Cautions.” Journal of Aesthetic Education 4.2 (1970): 129–132. Eisner, Elliot. Cognition and Curriculum: A Basis for Deciding What to Teach. Longmans, 1982. Farocki, Harun. “Film Courses in Art Schools.” Trans. Ted Fendt. Grey Room 79 (Apr. 2020): 96–99. Fransecky, Roger B. Visual Literacy: A Way to Learn—A Way to Teach. Association for Educational Communications and Technology, 1972. Gardner, Howard. Frames Of Mind. Basic Books, 1983. Hawkins, Stephanie L. “Training the ‘I’ to See: Progressive Education, Visual Literacy, and National Geographic Membership.” American Iconographic. U of Virginia P, 2010. 28–61. Jaworski, Adam. “Globalese: A New Visual-Linguistic Register.” Social Semiotics 25.2 (2015): 217-35. Kant, Immanuel. Anthropology from a Pragmatic Point of View. Cambridge UP, 2006. Kant, Immanuel. “Perpetual Peace.” Political Writings. Ed. H. Reiss. Cambridge UP, 1991 [1795]. 116–130. Kress, G., and T. van Leeuwen. Reading images: The Grammar of Visual Design. Routledge, 1996. Literacy Teaching Toolkit: Visual Literacy. Department of Education and Training (DET), State of Victoria. 29 Aug. 2018. 30 Sep. 2020 <https://www.education.vic.gov.au:443/school/teachers/teachingresources/discipline/english/literacy/ readingviewing/Pages/litfocusvisual.aspx>. Lee, Jae Young. “Otto Neurath's Isotype and the Rhetoric of Neutrality.” Visible Language 42.2: 159-180. Little, D., et al. Looking and Learning: Visual Literacy across the Disciplines. Wiley, 2015. Messaris, Paul. “Visual Literacy vs. Visual Manipulation.” Critical Studies in Mass Communication 11.2: 181-203. DOI: 10.1080/15295039409366894 ———. “A Visual Test for Visual ‘Literacy.’” The Annual Meeting of the Speech Communication Association. 31 Oct. to 3 Nov. 1991. Atlanta, GA. <https://files.eric.ed.gov/fulltext/ED347604.pdf>. McLuhan, Marshall. Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man. McGraw-Hill, 1964. McLuhan, Marshall, Quentin Fiore, and Jerome Agel. The Medium Is the Massage, Bantam Books, 1967. McLuhan, Marshall, Kathryn Hutchon, and Eric McLuhan. City as Classroom: Understanding Language and Media. Agincourt, Ontario: Book Society of Canada, 1977. McTigue, Erin, and Amanda Flowers. “Science Visual Literacy: Learners' Perceptions and Knowledge of Diagrams.” Reading Teacher 64.8: 578-89. Miller, Sarah. “The Secret History of the Paella Emoji.” Food & Wine, 20 June 2017. <https://www.foodandwine.com/news/true-story-paella-emoji>. Munari, Bruno. Square, Circle, Triangle. Princeton Architectural Press, 2016. Newfield, Denise. “From Visual Literacy to Critical Visual Literacy: An Analysis of Educational Materials.” English Teaching-Practice and Critique 10 (2011): 81-94. Neurath, Otto. International Picture Language: The First Rules of Isotype. K. Paul, Trench, Trubner, 1936. Schor, Esther. Bridge of Words: Esperanto and the Dream of a Universal Language. Henry Holt and Company, 2016. Sloboda, Stacey. “‘The Grammar of Ornament’: Cosmopolitanism and Reform in British Design.” Journal of Design History 21.3 (2008): 223-36. Study of Communication Problems: Implementation of Resolutions 4/19 and 4/20 Adopted by the General Conference at Its Twenty-First Session; Report by the Director-General. UNESCO, 1983. Tanchis, Aldo, and Bruno Munari. Bruno Munari: Design as Art. MIT P, 1987. Warren, Gwendolyn, Cindi Katz, and Nik Heynen. “Myths, Cults, Memories, and Revisions in Radical Geographic History: Revisiting the Detroit Geographical Expedition and Institute.” Spatial Histories of Radical Geography: North America and Beyond. Wiley, 2019. 59-86.

Introduction The exhibition of an artist’s work is traditionally accepted as representing the final stage of the creative process (Staniszewski). This article asks, however, whether this traditional view can be reassessed so that the curatorial practice of mounting an exhibition becomes, itself, a creative outcome feeding into work that may still be in progress, and that simultaneously operates as a learning and teaching tool. To provide a preliminary examination of the issue, we use a single case study approach, taking an example of practice currently used at an Australian university. In this program, internal and external students work together to develop and deliver an exhibition of their own work in progress. The exhibition space has a professional website (‘CQUniversity Noosa Exhibition Space’), many community members and the local media attend exhibition openings, and the exhibition (which runs for three to four weeks) becomes an outcome students can include in their curriculum vitae. This article reflects on the experiences, challenges, and outcomes that have been gained through this process over the past twelve months. Due to this time frame, the case study is exploratory and its findings are provisional. The case study is an appropriate method to explore a small sample of events (in this case exhibitions) as, following Merriam, it allows the construction of a richer picture of an under-examined phenomenon to be constructed. Although it is clear that this approach will not offer results which can be generalised, it can, nevertheless, assist in opening up a field for investigation and constructing a holistic account of a phenomenon (in this case, the exhibition space as authentic learning experience and productive teaching tool), for, as Merriam states, “much can be learned from a particular case” (51). Jennings adds that even the smallest case study is useful as it includes an “in-depth examination of the subject with which to confirm or contest received generalizations” (14). Donmoyer extends thoughts on this, suggesting that the single case study is extremely useful as the “restricted conception of generalizability … solely in terms of sampling and statistical significance is no longer defensible or functional” (45). Using the available student course feedback, anonymous end-of-term course evaluations, and other available information, this case study account offers an example of what Merriam terms a “narrative description” (51), which seeks to offer readers the opportunity to engage and “learn vicariously from an encounter with the case” (Merriam 51) in question. This may, we propose, be particularly productive for other educators since what is “learn[ed] in a particular case can be transferred to similar situations” (Merriam 51). Breaking Ground exhibition, CQUniversity Noosa Exhibition Space, 2014. Photo by Ulrike Sturm. Background The Graduate Certificate of Creative Industries (Creative Practice) (CQU ‘CB82’) was developed in 2011 to meet the national Australian Quality Framework agency’s Level 8 (Graduate Certificate) standards in terms of what is called in their policies, the “level” of learning. This states that, following the program, graduates from this level of program “will have advanced knowledge and skills for professional or highly skilled work and/or further learning … [and] will apply knowledge and skills to demonstrate autonomy, well-developed judgment, adaptability and responsibility as a practitioner or learner” (AQF). The program was first delivered in 2012 and, since then, has been offered both two and three terms a year, attracting small numbers of students each term, with an average of 8 to 12 students a term. To meet these requirements, such programs are sometimes developed to provide professional and work-integrated learning tasks and learning outcomes for students (Patrick et al., Smith et al.). In this case, professionally relevant and related tasks and outcomes formed the basis for the program, its learning tasks, and its assessment regime. To this end, each student enrolled in this program works on an individual, self-determined (but developed in association with the teaching team and with feedback from peers) creative/professional project that is planned, developed, and delivered across one term of study for full- time students and two terms for part- timers. In order to ensure the AQF-required professional-level outcomes, many projects are designed and/or developed in partnership with professional arts institutions and community bodies. Partnerships mobilised utilised in this way have included those with local, state, and national bodies, including the local arts community, festivals, and educational support programs, as well as private business and community organisations. Student interaction with curation occurs regularly at art schools, where graduate and other student shows are scheduled as a regular events on the calendar of most tertiary art schools (Al-Amri), and the curated exhibition as an outcome has a longstanding tradition in tertiary fine arts education (Webb, Brien, and Burr). Yet in these cases, it is ultimately the creative work on show that is the focus of the learning experience and assessment process, rather than any focus on engagement with the curatorial process itself (Dally et al.). When art schools do involve students in the curatorial process, the focus usually still remains on the students' creative work (Sullivan). Another interaction with curation is when students undertaking a tertiary-level course or program in museum, and/or curatorial practice are engaged in the process of developing, mounting, and/or critiquing curated activities. These programs are, however, very small in number in Australia, where they are only offered at postgraduate level, with the exception of an undergraduate program at the University of Canberra (‘215JA.2’). By adopting “the exhibition” as a component of the learning process rather than its end product, including documentation of students’ work in progress as exhibition pieces, and incorporating it into a more general creative industries focused program, we argue that the curatorial experience can become an interactive learning platform for students ranging from diverse creative disciplines. The Student Experience Students in the program under consideration in this case study come from a wide spectrum of the creative industries, including creative writing, film, multimedia, music, and visual arts. Each term, at least half of the enrolments are distance students. The decision to establish an on-campus exhibition space was an experimental strategy that sought to bring together students from different creative disciplines and diverse locations, and actively involve them in the exhibition development and curatorial process. As well as their individual project work, the students also bring differing levels of prior professional experience to the program, and exhibit a wide range of learning styles and approaches when developing and completing their creative works and exegetical reflections. To cater for the variations listed above, but still meet the program milestones and learning outcomes that must (under the program rules) remain consistent for each student, we employed a multi-disciplinary approach to teaching that included strategies informed by Gardner’s theory of multiple intelligences (Gardner, Frames of Mind), which proposed and defined seven intelligences, and repeatedly criticised what he identified as an over-reliance on linguistic and logical indices as identifiers of intelligence. He asserted that these were traditional indicators of high scores on most IQ measures or tests of achievement but were not representative of overall levels of intelligence. Gardner later reinforced that, “unless individuals take a very active role in what it is that they’re studying, unless they learn to ask questions, to do things hands on, to essentially re-create things in their own mind and transform them as is needed, the ideas just disappear” (Edutopia). In alignment with Gardner’s views, we have noted that students enrolled in the program demonstrate strengths in several key intelligence areas, particularly interpersonal, musical, body-kinaesthetic, and spacial/visual intelligences (see Gardner, ‘Multiple Intelligences’, 8–18). To cater for, and further develop, these strengths, and also for the external students who were unable to attend university-based workshop sessions, we developed a range of resources with various approaches to hands-on creative tasks that related to the projects students were completing that term. These resources included the usual scholarly articles, books, and textbooks but were also sourced from the print and online media, guest speaker presentations, and digital sites such as You Tube and TED Talks, and through student input into group discussions. The positive reception of these individual project-relevant resources is evidenced in the class online discussion forums, where consecutive groups of students have consistently reflected on the positive impact these resources have had on their individual creative projects: This has been a difficult week with many issues presenting. As part of our Free Writing exercise in class, we explored ‘brain dumping’ and wrote anything (no matter how ridiculous) down. The great thing I discovered after completing this task was that by allowing myself to not censor my thoughts by compiling a writing masterpiece, I was indeed “free” to express everything. …. … I understand that this may not have been the original intended goal of Free Writing – but it is something I would highly recommend external students to try and see if it works for you (Student 'A', week 5, term 1 2015, Moodle reflection point). I found our discussion about crowdfunding particularly interesting. ... I intend to look at this model for future exhibitions. I think it could be a great way for me to look into developing an exhibition of paintings alongside some more commercial collateral such as prints and cards (Student 'B', week 6, term 1 2015, Moodle reflection point). In class I specifically enjoyed the black out activity and found the online videos exceptional, inspiring and innovating. I really enjoyed this activity and it was something that I can take away and use within the classroom when educating (Student 'C', week 8, term 1 2015, Moodle reflection point). The application of Gardner’s principles and strategies dovetailed with our framework for assessing learning outcomes, where we were guided by Boud’s seven propositions for assessment reform in higher education, which aim to “set directions for change, designed to enhance learning achievements for all students and improve the quality of their experience” (26). Boud asserts that assessment has most effect when: it is used to engage students in productive learning; feedback is used to improve student learning; students and teachers become partners in learning and assessment; students are inducted into the assessment practices of higher education; assessment and learning are placed at the centre of subject and program design; assessment and learning is a focus for staff and institutional development; and, assessment provides inclusive and trustworthy representation of student achievement. These propositions were integral to the design of learning outcomes for the exhibition. Teachers worked with students, individually and as a group, to build their capacity to curate the exhibition, and this included such things as the design and administration of invitations, and also the physical placement of works within the exhibition space. In this way, teachers and students became partners in the process of assessment. The final exhibition, as a learning outcome, meant that students were engaged in productive learning that placed both assessment and knowledge at the centre of subject and project design. It is a collation of creative pieces that embodies the class, as a whole; however, each piece also represents the skills and creativity of individual students and, in this way, are is a trustworthy representations of student achievement. While we aimed to employ all seven recommendations, our main focus was on ensuring that the exhibition, as an authentic learning experience, was productive and that the students were engaged as responsible and accountable co-facilitators of it. These factors are particularly relevant as almost all the students were either currently working, or planning to work, in their chosen creative field, where the work would necessarily involve both publication, performance, and/or exhibition of their artwork plus collaborative practice across disciplinary boundaries to make this happen (Brien). For this reason, we provided exhibition-related coursework tasks that we hoped were engaging and that also represented an authentic learning outcome for the students. Student Curatorship In this context, the opportunity to exhibit their own works-in-progress provided an authentic reason, with a deadline, for students to both work, and reflect, on their creative projects. The documentation of each student’s creative process was showcased as a stand-alone exhibition piece within the display. These exhibits not only served not only to highlight the different learning styles of each student, but also proved to inspire creativity and skill development. They also provided a working model whereby students (and potential enrollees) could view other students’ work and creative processes from inception to fully-realised project outcomes. The sample online reflections quoted above not only highlight the effectiveness of the online content delivery, but this engagement with the online forum also allowed remote students to comment on each other’s projects as well as to and respond to issues they were encountering in their project planning and development and creative practice. It was essential that this level of peer engagement was fostered for the curatorial project to be viable, as both internal and external students are involved in designing the invitation, catalogue, labels, and design of the space, while on-campus students hang and label work according to the group’s directions. Distance students send in items. This is a key point of this experiment: the process of curating an exhibition of work from diverse creative fields, and from students located thousands of kilometres apart, as a way of bringing cohesion to a diverse cohort of students. That cohesiveness provided an opportunity for authentic learning to occur because it was in relation to a task that each student apparently understood as personally, academically, and professionally relevant. This was supported by the anonymous course evaluation comments, which were overwhelmingly positive about the exhibition process – there were no negative comments regarding this aspect of the program, and over 60 per cent of the class supplied these evaluations. This also met a considerable point of anxiety in the current university environment whereby actively engaging students in online learning interactions is a continuing issue (Dixon, Dixon, and Axmann). A key question is: what relevance does this curatorial process have for a student whose field is not visual art, but, for instance, music, film, or writing? By displaying documentation of work in progress, this process connects students of all disciplines with an audience. For example, one student in 2014 who was a singer/songwriter, had her song available to be played on a laptop, alongside photographs of the studio when she was recording her song with her band. In conjunction with this, the cover artwork for her CD, together with the actual CD and CD cover, were framed and exhibited. Another student, who was also a musician but who was completing a music history project, sent in pages of the music transcriptions he had been working on during the course. This manuscript was bound and exhibited in a way that prompted some audience members to commented that it was like an artist’s book as well as a collection of data. Both of these students lived over 1,000 kilometres from the campus where the exhibition was held, but they were able to share with us as teaching staff, as well as with other students who were involved in the physical setting up of the exhibition, exactly how they envisaged their work being displayed. The feedback from both of these students was that this experience gave them a strong connection to the program. They described how, despite the issue of distance, they had had the opportunity to participate in a professional event that they were very keen to include on their curricula vitae. Another aspect of students actively participating in the curation of an exhibition which features work from diverse disciplines is that these students get a true sense of the collaborative interconnectedness of the disciplines of the creative industries (Brien). By way of example, the exhibit of the singer/songwriter referred to above involved not only the student and her band, but also the photographer who took the photographs, and the artist who designed the CD cover. Students collaboratively decided how this material was handled in the exhibition catalogue – all these names were included and their roles described. Breaking Ground exhibition, CQUniversity Noosa Exhibition Space, 2014. Photo by Ulrike Sturm. Outcomes and Conclusion We believe that the curation of an exhibition and the delivery of its constituent components raises student awareness that they are, as creatives, part of a network of industries, developing in them a genuine understanding of the way the creating industries works as a profession outside the academic setting. It is in this sense that this curatorial task is an authentic learning experience. In fact, what was initially perceived as a significant challenge—, that is, exhibiting work in progress from diverse creative fields—, has become a strength of the curatorial project. In reflecting on the experiences and outcomes that have occurred through the implementation of this example of curatorial practice, both as a learning tool and as a creative outcome in its own right, a key positive indicator for this approach is the high level of student satisfaction with the course, as recorded in the formal, anonymous university student evaluations (with 60–100 per cent of these completed for each term, when the university benchmark is 50 per cent completion), and the high level of professional outcomes achieved post-completion. The university evaluation scores have been in the top (4.5–5/.5) range for satisfaction over the program’s eight terms of delivery since 2012. Particularly in relation to subsequent professional outcomes, anecdotal feedback has been that the curatorial process served as an authentic and engaged learning experience because it equipped the students, now graduates, of the program with not only knowledge about how exhibitions work, but also a genuine understanding of the web of connections between the diverse creative arts and industries. Indeed, a number of students have submitted proposals to exhibit professionally in the space after graduation, again providing anecdotal feedback that the experience they gained through our model has had a sustaining impact on their creative practice. While the focus of this activity has been on creative learning for the students, it has also provided an interesting and engaging teaching experience for us as the program’s staff. We will continue to gather evidence relating to our model, and, with the next iteration of the exhibition project, a more detailed comparative analysis will be attempted. At this stage, with ethics approval, we plan to run an anonymous survey with all students involved in this activity, to develop questions for a focus group discussion with graduates. We are also in the process of contacting alumni of the program regarding professional outcomes to map these one, two, and five years after graduation. We will also keep a record of what percentage of students apply to exhibit in the space after graduation, as this will also be an additional marker of how professional and useful they perceive the experience to be. In conclusion, it can be stated that the 100 per cent pass rate and 0 per cent attrition rate from the program since its inception, coupled with a high level (over 60 per cent) of student progression to further post-graduate study in the creative industries, has not been detrimentally affected by this curatorial experiment, and has encouraged staff to continue with this approach. References Al-Amri, Mohammed. “Assessment Techniques Practiced in Teaching Art at Sultan Qaboos University in Oman.” International Journal of Education through Art 7.3 (2011): 267–282. AQF Levels. Australian Qualifications Framework website. 18 June 2015 ‹http://www.aqf.edu.au/aqf/in-detail/aqf-levels/›. Boud, D. Student Assessment for Learning in and after Courses: Final Report for Senior Fellowship. Sydney: Australian Learning and Teaching Council, 2010. Brien, Donna Lee, “Higher Education in the Corporate Century: Choosing Collaborative rather than Entrepreneurial or Competitive Models.” New Writing: The International Journal for the Practice and Theory of Creative Writing 4.2 (2007): 157–170. Brien, Donna Lee, and Axel Bruns, eds. “Collaborate.” M/C Journal 9.2 (2006). 18 June 2015 ‹http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0605›. Burton, D. Exhibiting Student Art: The Essential Guide for Teachers. New York: Teachers College Press, Columbia University, New York, 2006. CQUniversity. CB82 Graduate Certificate in Creative Industries. 18 July 2015 ‹https://handbook.cqu.edu.au/programs/index?programCode=CB82›. CQUniversity Noosa Exhibition Space. 20 July 2015 ‹http://www.cqunes.org›. Dally, Kerry, Allyson Holbrook, Miranda Lawry and Anne Graham. “Assessing the Exhibition and the Exegesis in Visual Arts Higher Degrees: Perspectives of Examiners.” Working Papers in Art & Design 3 (2004). 27 June 2015 ‹http://sitem.herts.ac.uk/artdes_research/papers/wpades/vol3/kdabs.html›. Degree Shows, Sydney College of the Arts. 2014. 18 June 2015 ‹http://sydney.edu.au/sca/galleries-events/degree-shows/index.shtml› Dixon, Robert, Kathryn Dixon, and Mandi Axmann. “Online Student Centred Discussion: Creating a Collaborative Learning Environment.” Hello! Where Are You in the Landscape of Educational Technology? Proceedings ASCILITE, Melbourne 2008. 256–264. Donmoyer, Robert. “Generalizability and the Single-Case Study.” Case Study Method: Key Issues, Key Texts. Eds. Roger Gomm, Martyn Hammersley, and Peter Foster. 2000. 45–68. Falk, J.H. “Assessing the Impact of Exhibit Arrangement on Visitor Behavior and Learning.” Curator: The Museum Journal 36.2 (1993): 133–146. Flyvbjerg, Bent. “Five Misunderstandings about Case-Study Research.” Qualitative Inquiry 12.2 (2006): 219–245. Gardner, H. Frames of Mind: The Theory of Multiple Intelligences, New York: Basic Books, 1983. ———. Multiple Intelligences: New Horizons in Theory and Practice, New York: Basic Books, 2006. George Lucas Education Foundation. 2015 Edutopia – What Works in Education. 16 June 2015 ‹http://www.edutopia.org/multiple-intelligences-howard-gardner-video#graph3›. Gerring, John. “What Is a Case Study and What Is It Good For?” American Political Science Review 98.02 (2004): 341–354. Hooper-Greenhill, Eilean. “Museums and Communication: An Introductory Essay.” Museum, Media, Message 1 (1995): 1. Jennings, Paul. The Public House in Bradford, 1770-1970. Keele: Keele University Press, 1995. Levy, Jack S. “Case Studies: Types, Designs, and Logics of Inference.” Conflict Management and Peace Science 25.1 (2008): 1–18. Merriam, Sharan B. Qualitative Research: A Guide to Design and Implementation: Revised and Expanded from Qualitative Research and Case Study Applications in Education. Jossey-Bass, 2009. Miles, M., and S. Rainbird. From Critical Distance to Engaged Proximity: Rethinking Assessment Methods to Enhance Interdisciplinary Collaborative Learning in the Creative Arts and Humanities. Final Report to the Australian Government Office for Learning and Teaching, Sydney. 2013. Monash University. Rethinking Assessment to Enhance Interdisciplinary Collaborative Learning in the Creative Arts and Humanities. Sydney: Office of Learning and Teaching, 2013. Muller, L. Reflective Curatorial Practice. 17 June 2015 ‹http://research.it.uts.edu.au/creative/linda/CCSBook/Jan%2021%20web%20pdfs/Muller.pdf›. O’Neill, Paul. Curating Subjects. London: Open Editions, 2007. Patrick, Carol-Joy, Deborah Peach, Catherine Pocknee, Fleur Webb, Marty Fletcher, and Gabriella Pretto. The WIL (Work Integrated Learning) Report: A National Scoping Study [Final Report]. Brisbane: Queensland University of Technology, 2008. Rule, A.C. “Editorial: The Components of Authentic Learning.” Journal of Authentic Learning 3.1 (2006): 1–10. Seawright, Jason, and John Gerring. “Case Selection Techniques in Case Study Research: A Menu of Qualitative and Quantitative Options.” Political Research Quarterly 61.2 (2008): 294–308. Smith, Martin, Sally Brooks, Anna Lichtenberg, Peter McIlveen, Peter Torjul, and Joanne Tyler. Career Development Learning: Maximising the Contribution of Work-Integrated Learning to the Student Experience. Final project report, June 2009. Wollongong: University of Wollongong, 2009. Sousa, D.A. How the Brain Learns: A Teacher’s Guide. 2nd ed. Thousand Oaks, CA: Corwin Press, 2001. Stake, R. “Qualitative Case Studies”. The Sage Handbook of Qualitative Research. 3rd ed. Eds. N.K. Denzin and Y.S. Lincoln. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage, 2005. 433-466. Staniszewski, Mary Anne. The Power of Display: A History of Exhibition Installations at the Museum of Modern Art. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1998. Sullivan, Graeme. Art Practice as Research: Inquiry in Visual Arts. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage, 2010. University of Canberra. “Bachelor of Heritage, Museums and Conservation (215JA.2)”. Web. 27 July 2015. Ventzislavov, R. “Idle Arts: Reconsidering the Curator.” The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism 72.1 (2014): 83–93. Verschuren, P. “Case Study as a Research Strategy: Some Ambiguities and Opportunities.” International Journal of Social Research Methodology 6.2 (2003): 121–139. Webb, Jen, and Donna Lee Brien. “Preparing Graduates for Creative Futures: Australian Creative Arts Programs in a Globalising Society.” Partnerships for World Graduates, AIC (Academia, Industry and Community) 2007 Conference, RMIT, Melbourne, 28–30 Nov. 2007. Webb, Jen, Donna Lee Brien, and Sandra Burr. “Doctoral Examination in the Creative Arts: Process, Practices and Standards.” Final Report. Canberra: Office of Learning and Teaching, 2013. Yin, Robert K. Case Study Research: Design and Methods. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage, 2013.

Morning report (MR) is a valued educational experience in internal medicine training programs. Many senior residents and faculty have not received formal training in how to effectively facilitate MR. Faculty at the University of Toronto were surveyed to provide insights into what they felt were key elements for the successful facilitation of MR. These insights fell within 5 major categories: planning and preparation, the case, running the show, wrapping up and closing the loop.Résumé Le rapport du matin (RM) est un outil pédagogique précieux dans les programmes de formation en médecine interne. Nombre de résidents séniors et de membres du corps enseignant n’ont toutefois jamais reçu de formation officielle sur la façon de faciliter l’élaboration du RM. Nous avons sondé les membres du corps enseignant de l’université de Toronto pour avoir un aperçu de ce qu’ils percevaient comme étant des éléments-clés susceptibles d’améliorer grandement l’élaboration du RM. Les réponses reçues se répartissent en cinq principales catégories: la planification et la préparation du RM, les caractéristiques du cas évalué, l’importance et la façon de prendre en main le processus, le résumé des informations et l’art de « boucler la boucle». Morning report (MR) has long been an integral and valued part of Internal Medicine training programs in North America.1,2 Some residents recognize MR as the most important educational activity during their training.3 Medical students, residents and faculty typically attend MR. Although the structure and function of MR can vary across institutions, it usually involves a case-based discussion facilitated by a faculty member, chief medical resident (CMR), or other senior resident. The facilitator discusses pertinent aspects of one or more clinical cases to teach medical knowledge, clinical reasoning and other important aspects of physician competencies, such as communication and collaboration skills. 4 Residents have expressed a preference for an interactive teaching session led by an individual with extensive medical knowledge and excellent clinical acumen.5Despite trainees’ perceptions about the core educational function of MR and their preference for skilled facilitators, most residents and many faculty have never received any formal training on how to conduct an effective MR. This, coupled with a lack of resources in the literature, may contribute to feelings of trepidation about assuming the role of facilitator.6 Based on this need, we were invited by the organizing group of residents at the 2015 Canadian CMR Conference, held in Toronto, Canada, to lead a seminar to introduce CMRs to the principles of effective MR facilitation. The conference was attended by over 70 current and future CMRs. In preparation for this seminar, we reviewed available literature and found that practical guidelines on how to facilitate a successful MR were generally lacking. To help us to provide guidance and to capture broad opinions and experiences, we recruited a sample of 24 faculty at the University of Toronto, including many award-winning teachers whose experience in leading MR ranges from 3 to over 30 years. We asked them to provide insights into what they felt were key elements of facilitating a successful MR. While not a systematic collection of data, their insights taken together represent a broad experience base. Given the relative lack of evidence-based literature describing how to facilitate MR, we decided to disseminate a refined summary of the shared wisdom we uncovered in hopes that it would benefit other CMRs and junior faculty as they take on this challenging role.The insights provided fall within 5 main themes (Table 1) which are discussed below, followed by a brief discussion about future directions for MR:1) Planning and preparation2) The case3) Running the show4) Wrapping up5) Closing the LoopTable 1. Experience-Based Tips to Running an Effective Morning ReportPLANNING AND PREPARATION:1) Ensure audiovisual aids are present and working before starting. 2) Start and end on time. 3) Encourage all faculty to attend and participate. 4) Know the audience (including names).THE CASE:5) The case can be undifferentiated or one for which the diagnosis and even response to treatment is known. 6) There are pros and cons to the facilitator knowing details of the case in advance. 7) If details of the case are not known to the facilitator, determine with the person presenting if the discussion should be focused on diagnosis, management or other pertinent issues. 8) Cases need not be limited to inpatients and can include ambulatory cases and case simulations.RUNNING THE SHOW:9) Establish a respectful learning climate. 10) Personal anecdotes and reflections on past cases can engage the audience. 11) Ensure time is spent discuss learning issues valuable to all present. 12) Facilitate and engage in discussion rather than deliver a lecture. 13) Use a mix of pattern recognition (heuristics) and analytical reasoning strategies. 14) Start with a question that has an obvious answer if dealing with a quiet audience. 15) Promote volunteerism for answers as much as possible, but direct a question to a specific person if no one volunteers. 16) Begin by engaging the most junior learners and advance to involve senior learners. 17) Encourage resource stewardship and evidence-based medicine. 18) Acknowledge areas of uncertainty and don’t be afraid to say “I don’t know”. 19) Teaching “scripts” or the use of a systematic approach to developing a differential diagnosis can be used when discussing less familiar topics. 20) Highlight the variability in clinical approach amongst "the experts" in the room.WRAPPING-UP:21) Ensure there is time to summarize “take home points”. 22) Provide learners with the opportunity to summarize what they have learned.CLOSING THE LOOP23) Reinforcement of learning can include a distribution of a relevant paper or providing a summary of learning points via email or blog. 24) Maintain a case log to ensure a balanced curriculum. 25) Provide feedback to the case presenter and facilitator.Planning and Preparation It is important for the organizer and facilitator (these may or may not be the same person) to be diligent when preparing for MR. The person in charge of organizing MR should ensure that all necessary audiovisual equipment is in working order, which may be as simple as ensuring there is a whiteboard and working marker. To optimize housestaff attendance, the sessions and facilitators should be scheduled in a regular and predictable way. The lure of a light breakfast should not be underestimated and may add to the social aspect of this event. Sessions should begin and finish on time (or even slightly early). Ideally, deferring pages for all but critical clinical issues should occur. Having faculty regularly attend MR as audience participants, and not just as facilitators, improves the attendance of learners who see through role-modelling the importance of continuing medical education and lifelong learning. Faculty presence also raises the level of discussion around grey areas of diagnosis and management, providing trainees with a spectrum of opinions and approaches to clinical medicine, specifically role-modelling how faculty approach clinical uncertainty. The organizer must also ensure that someone, usually a trainee, is responsible for bringing the details of one or more clinical cases to be discussed.The facilitator should ensure they know the names and year of training of the housestaff in attendance. It is helpful if the organizer can provide a list (ideally with pictures) of those who will be in attendance for the facilitator to reference. Over time, this helps to develop a sense of community within the group. It also allows the facilitator to engage all participants and with the goals of first posing level-specific questions to the more junior learners and ending with the most senior learners.The Case The selected clinical case can be either a new patient seen in consultation in the past 24 hours or a patient that has been in hospital for some time and for whom results of investigations and response to treatment are known. Ideally, the majority of the cases selected should not involve particularly rare medical issues and should mirror the clinical case mix of patients being cared for by the trainees. Trainees will benefit more from discussions about common clinical problems rather. However, to highlight issues of diagnostic reasoning, it can be beneficial to occasionally discussing uncommon case including typical presentations of rare diseases or unusual presentations of common problems.The faculty surveyed expressed differing opinions when asked if they thought the details of the case should be known to the facilitator in advance. Knowing the details of the case in advance can ensure the facilitator is comfortable with the content area and allows them to focus on aspects of the case that they think will have the highest learning impact for trainees. However, when the case is not known to the facilitator, the audience will be more likely to garner insight into the clinical reasoning process of the facilitator. The opportunity to learn about the cognitive process that an “expert” uses when generating a differential diagnosis and formulating plans for investigation and management is potentially much more valuable than the discussion of content that could be read in a textbook or electronically. When the details of a case are not known, the discussion is more spontaneous and the lines of discussion are more reflective of the thoughts of the trainees, rather than the facilitator. The discussion can be guided by the case itself and the trainees’ questions and answers. A mixed approach to case discussion will provide the variety that the participants value.Although traditionally MR has focused on the diagnosis or management of one or more clinical cases from the inpatient service, its format is flexible enough to provide opportunity for discussion or for other important aspects of patient care. MR can also address ambulatory cases,7 include the presence of a real patient for the purposes of highlighting history-taking and clinical findings and also incorporate discussion of simulated cases, such as code blue scenarios. The discussion can also be enriched by the health professionals from other disciplines including, pharmacists, physical therapists, occupational therapists, nurses, and social workers. The case can also be selected to allow the discussion to be focused on other specific elements of management, such as resource utilization and “choosing wisely,”8 quality and safety, bioethics, and evidence-based medicine.9Running the Show In developing their skills in facilitation, many of the faculty surveyed discussed that they continuously build on the facilitation skills that they have learned over time, the basic principles of which are described elsewhere.10,11 Through feedback and reflection, they adapt to a style that reflects how they believe the MR should be conducted.The facilitator must establish a respectful climate at MR that is conducive to learning. He or she must ensure that the session is collegial and enforce that the goal of the session is learning, rather than showmanship. The environment should encourage interaction and permit people to ask questions. Trainees should feel comfortable enough to answer questions and test hypotheses, even if answers are incorrect. However, the facilitator must ensure that the correct information is conveyed to the group and that incorrect answers are explored as key teaching points. Humour can put people at ease. Self-deprecating humour can be non-threatening and freely employed if it is within the facilitator’s comfort zone. However, humour should never come at the expense of a trainee. Personal anecdotes and reflections on past cases can engage the audience, relax the atmosphere and vividly impart key facts and clinical wisdom.It is important for the facilitator to be respectful of time. Trainees often report that too much time is spent on reviewing the history and physical examination and on the development of an exhaustive differential diagnosis while less time is spent on investigation and management issues, which senior trainees find most valuable. There need not be a fixed formula related to how much time to spend on specific components of the case. A skilled facilitator will expand and abbreviate aspects of the case discussion based on the specific case presented. Some cases represent excellent opportunities to review evidence-based physical examination, some may highlight issues of resource stewardship related to investigation and some are particularly well-suited to discussion of evidence-based management.The facilitator should facilitate a clinical discussion, rather than deliver a didactic talk. He or she should coach the audience to identify key historical facts or findings on physical examination to allow everyone to fully participate in the case formulation and clinical reasoning that will follow. Demonstrating a mix of pattern recognition and heuristics (e.g., “Quick – what do you think the diagnosis is?”) and analytical reasoning strategies will help trainees learn to employ and recognize the strengths and limitations of each.In the face of a quiet audience, questions that have obvious answers should be posed first. The facilitator should promote volunteerism as much as possible; however, addressing specific members of the audience prevents silence and can help ensure everyone is engaged in the discussion. Sensitivity to the level of trainee is important. A facilitator should avoid potential embarrassment of a trainee by allowing a more junior learner to come up with the answer to a question that the more senior trainee could not answer. In other words, there should be an inviolate sequence wherein, for any given topic, the facilitator starts with trainees at an appropriate level for the questions and moves upward sequentially by level of training. This allows participants to relax and set their focus on learning, rather than avoiding eye contact and fearing embarrassment.A skilled facilitator should not allow any one person to dominate the discussion and should also refrain from asking multiple questions to the same participant. However, it can be valuable to challenge a respondent or the group to elaborate on their answers, as this can uncover gaps in knowledge and understanding and provide additional opportunities for learning.It is important to ensure that the discussion is of interest to trainees at all levels. If faculty are present, their opinions should be sought throughout the case. It is helpful to highlight the variability in approach amongst “the experts” in the room. Judicious use and justification of investigations should be encouraged to promote learning about resource stewardship and evidence-based medicine principles should be incorporated, when relevant.Many facilitators are anxious about how to handle situations where they don’t know the answer to a particular clinical problem. In these cases, a demonstration of the clinical reasoning process and a focus on an approach to clinical problems can be helpful. Some of the most useful discussions centre on how to deal with uncertainty and on how to find answers to clinical questions in real-time using available resources. The facilitator should not hesitate to say “I don’t know,” as this demonstrates that nobody has infinite knowledge and role-models the necessity of recognizing one’s limitations. Teaching scripts relating to specific topics or the use of an etiologic or body systems-based approach to developing a differential diagnosis are helpful teaching approaches6.Wrapping Up Sufficient time should be dedicated to recapitulation and repetition of one to 3 key take home messages. This serves to reinforce the important points that were discussed and to ensure that participants walk away with key messages to facilitate learning. Having a few members of the audience identify what they have learned is often beneficial as the facilitator may not identify the same issues as the trainees.Closing the Loop Further reinforcement can occur if a summary of the take home points, or a relevant paper, is circulated by email or posted to a blog.12 This must be done in a manner that protects patient confidentiality. Updates on previously presented diagnostic dilemmas will enhance learning. Finally, the organizer of MR can keep a log of cases that have been presented to avoid excessive repetition of topics and ensure a balanced curriculum.A process for the person presenting the case to be provided with feedback about their presentation skills by the facilitator or peers should be implemented. It is also important for the facilitator to receive feedback about their teaching and the session overall. Feedback will help faculty refine their facilitation skills, especially if coupled with faculty development initiatives to improve teaching skills.13 It may also be important for novice clinician teachers who need to build a teaching portfolio as part of their academic review and promotion process. 14 If it is clear the faculty utilize the feedback, it serves to role-model self-reflection and promote a culture of frequent formative feedback.The Future of MR MR has a long tradition and can be an evolving teaching format capable of meeting current educational needs. For example, with the implementation of competency-based medical education (CBME) into residency training programs, the competencies being developed for Internal Medicine trainees can provide a framework to organize aspects of learning experiences, including MR. 15 Issues of advocacy and stewardship may be highlighted as explicit learning points of cases, as MR allows for discussion of authentic core clinical tasks and problems, avoiding the reduction of competencies to endless lists taught without the necessary context needed for deeper learning.16 There are also challenges to implementing and sustaining a successful MR in today's current training climate. Issues such as duty-hour restrictions, increased volume and acuity of patients, and pressure to discharge patients early in the day17–19 have prompted some to modify the traditional MR. An “afternoon report” allows for attention to clinical duties early in the day and preserves teaching for later in the day. MR should continue to evolve to meet current education and healthcare delivery needs, and these innovations should be described in the literature and studied.Although these tips have been generated from shared experiences at a single centre, we believe they will be useful to facilitators in many other settings, as they represent the experiences of many facilitators with many cumulative years of experience. This article is intended to stimulate others to reflect upon and discuss what they have found to be the key elements to facilitating a successful MR.Acknowledgements We would like to thank our colleagues who contributed tips and whose teaching has influenced the careers of countless trainees: Dr. Ahmed Bayoumi, Dr. Isaac Bogoch, Dr. Mark Cheung, Dr. Allan Detsky, Dr. Irfan Dhalla, Dr. Vera Dounaevskaia, Dr. Trevor Jamieson, Dr. Lauren Lapointe Shaw, Dr. Jerome A. Leis, Dr. Don Livingstone, Dr. Julia Lowe, Dr. Ophyr Mourad, Dr. Valerie Palda, Dr. Joel Ray, Dr. Donald Redelmeier, Dr. Steve Shadowitz, Dr. Rob Sargeant.References1. Parrino TA, Villanueva AG. The principles and practice of MR. JAMA 1986;256(6):730–33.2. Amin Z, Guajardo J, Wisniewski W, Bordage G, Tekian A, Niederman LG. MR: focus and methods over the past three decades. Acad Med 2000;75(10):S1–S5.3. Gross CP, Donnelly GB, Reisman AB, Sepkowitz KA, Callahan MA. Resident expectations of MR: a multi-institutional study. Arch Int Med 1999;159(16):1910–14.4. McNeill M, Ali SK, Banks DE, Mansi IA. MR: can an established medical education tradition be validated? J Grad Med Educ 2013;5(3):374–84.5. Ways M, Kroenke K, Umali J, Buchwald D. MR: A survey of resident attitudes. Arch Int Med 1995;155(13):1433–37.6. Sacher AG, Detsky AS. Taking the stress out of MR: an analytic approach to the differential diagnosis. J Gen Intern Med 2009;24(6):747–51.7. Wenderoth S, Pelzman F, Demopoulos B. Ambulatory MR. J Grad Med Educ 2002;17(3):207–209.8. Kane GC, Holumzer C, Sorokin R. Utilization management MR: Purpose, planning and early experience in a university hospital residency program. Sem Med Pract 2001;4(1):27–36.9. Banks DE, Runhua Shi M. Decreased hospital length of stay associated with presentation of cases at MR with librarian support. J Med Libr Assoc 2007;95(4):381–87.10. Azer SA. Challenges facing PBL tutors: 12 tips for successful group facilitation. Med Teach 2005;27(8):676–81.11. Skeff KM. Enhancing teaching effectiveness and vitality in the ambulatory setting. J Gen Intern Med 1988;3(1):S26–S33.12. Bogoch II, Frost DW, Bridge S, Lee TC, Gold WL, Pansiko DM, Cavalcanti R. MR blog: a web-based tool to enhance case-based learning. Teach Learn Med 2012;24(3):238–41.13. Boerboom TB, Stalmeijer RE, Dolmans DH, Jaarsma DA. How feedback can foster professional growth of teachers in the clinical workplace: A review of the literature. Stud Educ Eval 2015;46:47–52.14. Fleming VM, Schindler N, Martin GJ, DaRosa DA. Separate and equitable promotion tracks for clinician-educators. JAMA 2005;294(9):1101–1104.15. Frank JR, Snell LS, Ten Cate O, Holmboe ES, Carraccio C, Swing SR, Harris, KA. Competency-based medical education: theory to practice. Med Teach, 2010;32(8):638–45.16. Hawkins RE, Welcher CM, Holmboe ES, Kirk LM, Norcini JJ, Simons KB, Skochelak SE. Implementation of competency‐based medical education: are we addressing the concerns and challenges? Med Educ. 2015;49(11):1086–1102.17. Arora VM, Georgitis E, Siddique J, Vekhter B, Woodruff JN, Humphrey HJ, Meltzer DO. Association of workload of on-call medical interns with on-call sleep duration, shift duration, and participation in educational activities. JAMA 2008;300(10):1146–53.18. Horwitz LI, Krumholz HM, Huot SJ, Green ML. Internal medicine residents' clinical and didactic experiences after work hour regulation: a survey of chief residents. J Gen Int Med 2006;21(9):961–65.19. Khanna S, Sier D, Boyle J, Zeitz K. Discharge timeliness and its impact on hospital crowding and emergency department flow performance. Emerg Med Aus 2016;28(2):164–70.

The purpose of the project was to develop a single-semester curriculum for Citrus College. The curriculum was directed at adults returning from the workplace to update their skills, and college students that are enrolled in the information technology (IT), or computer science (CS) tracks.

This research is a critical analysis of lifelong learning (LLL) as a strategy for continuous professional development (CPD) of curriculists in the Department of Technical Vocational Education & Training (DTVET) in Botswana. The assumption that formal education will provide the required competencies for the duration of the work cycle is obsolete. The researcher argues that the workplace provides a rich environment for informal, problem-centred learning and that LLL skills are essential tools that enable practitioners to be actively involved in their professional development. The main discussion is within a postmodern paradigm which views learning and development as both a cognitive process as well as a social construct. This view forms the basis for an analytical construct to examine the fundamental question; do practitioners see themselves as observers on the outside, or as active participants, within the experience, having the ability to adapt to changes in the nature of work? The study used a mixed, exploratory design to determine, motivators and barriers to LLL, and the LLL skills practitioners require to perform efficiently in their jobs. The conclusion was that in order to enhance the skills of practitioners to a level consistent with an evolving knowledge economy that continuous development rests on the inclusive principles of LLL, and on the acquisition of LLL skills. Data indicated that these modern day skills are perceived to empower practitioners to, not only manage change, but also to be change agents through the use of information technology, research, self-management, and team work. The fundamental barriers emanating from the research were the lack of support from DTVET management as well as cultural barriers which inhibit self-directed learning. Data from the study were conclusive in showing that LLL was an effective strategy to enhance CPD. Based on the roles, barriers, motivators and LLL skills identified in the research, recommendations are presented along with a conceptual model for LLL as a strategy for CPD.
Adult Basic Education (ABET)
M. Ed. (Adult Education)

Theological Education by Extension (TEE) for parishioners is the general area of study. However, focus is placed on the developing of a curriculum, particularly on the problems and challenges around developing of a relevant TEE curriculum. Four different TEE programmes in Botswana were studied. The findings showed that problems were experienced by respondents and others who are involved in TEEs in Botswana. The respondents could identify and describe some of such problems and challenges. Therefore the researcher could arrive at the following conclusion:- Students, staff and all other parties of a TEE must collectively and fully participate in the developing of the curriculum. Moreover, the socio-cultural context influences TEE curriculum; therefore, students need to be trained to respond to such influences in their life situations. Once again, it is important that the curriculum policy and the process of planning take into account of some basic concerns like the theological presuppositions, aims and objectives and basic commitments or foci behind the curriculum. If these concerns are well attended, a more relevant TEE curriculum can be developed.
Philosophy, Practical & Systematic Theology
Th. M. (Practical Theology)

This study aims at examining capacity building for Foundation Phase Mathematics teachers in curriculum differentiation in Limpopo Province. Proceeding within the framework of inclusive education, it takes as its point of departure two issues which are collectively critical for learner performance in Mathematics, namely, teacher capacity and differentiated instruction. The study revolves around the view that for improved learner achievement in Mathematics, particularly in lower grades, instructional practices aimed at supporting learners should be differentiated; and, that for this to be possible, teachers should be equipped with the capacity needed to carry out curriculum differentiation. This view emerges from the convergence of three problems which constitute the motivation for conducting this study. The first problem is poor learner achievement in Mathematics in South Africa, which is a subject dominating the public media and scientific discourse. The second problem is a documented general lack among teachers of appropriate knowledge, skills and attitudes needed for modification and adaptation of curriculum to the differentiated needs of learners. The last problem is the changing curriculum policy context in which teachers work as represented by the current national curriculum policy taking place against the backdrop of the broader South African education transformation agenda, geared towards inclusion. Underlying these problems is the recognition of curriculum as constituting one of the barriers to inclusive education.Based on an assumption that poor performance of learners in the Foundation Phase Mathematics is due to teachers’ inability to differentiate curriculum and their lack of the necessary capacity, this study adopts a qualitative research design and follows a qualitative approach to examine the problem. Data was collected by means of interviews, observations and document analysis. Twelve Mathematics teachers from three purposively selected schools and one curriculumadvisor from one circuit participated in the study. Data were analysed by means ofBraun and Clarke’s method of thematic analysis. The results present the challenges that Foundation Phase Mathematics teachers face, which include inability to respond to learner diversity and inadequate training in curriculum differentiation.
Inclusive Education
M. Ed. (Inclusive Education)

In this study, the transfer of learning criteria that can be implemented before, during and after a learning programme was investigated. The transfer of learning criteria was identified, after which the Station Management Learning Programme was evaluated to see whether transfer of learning criteria was used during the facilitation of the programme. The study population for the research was comprised of facilitators and station commanders, who facilitated and attended the Station Management Learning Programme in Gauteng as part of their development as Station Commanders. The study methodology involved qualitative and quantitative approaches to data collection, with questionnaires and one-on-one interviews. Descriptive statistics were produced and literature, questionnaires and interviews were examined to establish whether transfer of learning took place. The findings of the study reflect that various learning transfer strategies exist and that these can be used to transfer learning from the classroom to the work environment. The study concludes that a significant number of transfer of learning strategies are already implemented in the South African Police Service, in the presentation of the Station Management Learning Programme.
Adult Basic Education (ABET)
M. Ed. (Adult Education)

This qualitative study was aimed at exploring and describing the theoretical and practical experiences of second-year critical care nursing students. Purposive sampling was done, and unstructured interviews and narrative descriptions were used as data collection tools. An adaptation of Johns's Framework, the Guideline for the Facilitation of Reflection as Teaching Strategy, was used during interviews to guide participants in reflecting on theory-practice integration. Multiple strategies were used to ensure the trustworthiness of the study. Concerning patient data, communication, and the administration of life-saving medications, theory-practice integration did occur. Regarding treatment and the outcome of nursing interventions, it seemed that knowledge deficiencies and a lack of exposure to practical situations contributed to the inability to apply theory to practice. This apparent inability evoked negative feelings, such as guilt. Discrepancies between practice and theory taught led to confusion. Guided reflection assisted students in gaining a new perspective on nursing and theory-practice integration.
Health Studies
M.A. (Health Studies)