Educational inclusion in resource-constrained contexts: a study of rural primary schools in Cambodia

ABSTRACT

This study investigated the status of educational inclusion in resource-constrained, rural primary schools in Battambang Province, Cambodia using a mixed-method design. A Teacher Efficacy in Inclusive Practices (TEIP) scale was administered to sampled teachers and Headteachers. Classroom observations were undertaken in five schools. Interviews were conducted with selected teachers and other education officials. The findings indicate dissatisfaction with the current quality of educational inclusion and identify barriers to good practice. The paper highlights priorities for enhancing educational inclusion in rural, resource-constrained contexts and recommends a participatory and culturally sensitive framework for improving overall quality of education.

KEYWORDS:

• Educational inclusion
• inclusive practice
• disability
• primary teachers
• quality education
• Cambodia

Introduction

This study is concerned with understanding the status of educational inclusion in resource-constrained, rural primary schools in Battambang Province, Cambodia. The idea of educational inclusion was first declared a human right by Article 26 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (United Nations [UN] 1948) (Polat 2011). This fundamental right has subsequently been reiterated in a raft of further declarations concerning disability (UN 1982), child rights (UN 1989), Education for All [EfA] (United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation [UNESCO] 1990) and special needs education (UN 1994). More recently, inclusive and equitable quality education is listed as Sustainable Development Goal (SDG) 4 (UN 2015). Inclusive education is therefore well established as a global policy priority and key education driver across many nations, including lower-middle-income countries like Cambodia.

While reasonable progress has been made regarding education for all (UNESCO 2014), the international literature indicates that translating rhetoric into reality has proved challenging in many countries, especially low and middle-income nations (Hayes and Bulat 2017). This paper assesses educational inclusion in resource-constrained rural primary schools in Cambodia and examines the implications of the findings for the future development of quality education in rural contexts.

Theoretical background

It ought to be stated from the outset that there is no single, universal definition of educational inclusion or agreement on the key principles of inclusive practice (i.e. how inclusion is operationalised in the classroom) (Allan 2013). Indeed, inclusion is a highly contested concept (Allan 2013). In the West, the concept of inclusion developed in response to a powerful critique, largely on human rights grounds, of segregated educational provision for children with disabilities and other ‘special needs’, and concerns about the stigma and marginalisation associated with segregated schooling. The aim of educational inclusion is to minimise discrimination and exclusion and maximise participation in mainstream schools (Booth and Ainscow 2011). However, the concept has evolved over time from a focus on ‘inclusion as access’ to mainstream education, also known as ‘integration’, to a focus on ‘inclusion as social and educational participation and empowerment for all’ (McAuliffe 2018).

‘Inclusion as access’ implies the placement of children with disabilities in mainstream school with the expectation that they will adapt to meet the requirements of the learning environment (McAuliffe 2018). This form of inclusion is based on a medical model of disability where it is presumed that the ‘problems’ associated with the disability are fixed and lie in the child. As a corollary, if the child with a disability does not, or cannot, adapt to mainstream education, it is because they lack capacity and require some form of extra help, or special provision, in a special school or a unit attached to a mainstream school. (Polat 2011)

By contrast, ‘inclusion as participation and empowerment for all’ implies placement in mainstream school with the expectation that the learning environment is adapted to welcome diversity, respect difference and enable the social and educational participation of all learners, except, where appropriate, those with the most severe and complex needs (McAuliffe 2018). Inclusion as participation is based on a social model of disability where it is presumed that barriers to learning reside in the learning environment, not in the child, and that the burden of adaptation must fall on the teacher and school, rather than the learner (Polat 2011).

This social model of inclusion is far more challenging of existing educational structures and processes, as it requires a paradigm shift in attitudes, values, pedagogy and practice in order to eliminate discriminatory potential. Many schools in the West have found it difficult to operationalise participation because of problems interpreting the concept of inclusion and enacting it in the face of environmental, structural and attitudinal barriers that are, in some cases, impossible for teachers to directly influence (Allan 2013). For example, a widespread lack of professional development in inclusive practice in European nations has been problematic (Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development [OECD] 2019). Establishing a set of shared values has proved challenging (European Agency 2018). Consequently, schools across the West are at different stages in the process of transition from access to participation (European Agency 2018). Indeed, what is termed inclusion in many settings masks ‘invisible forms’ of internal segregation that inhibit full participation (Byrne 2013). It is therefore important to bear in mind that inclusion is by no means a unitary entity in western society. It is an evolving concept with diverse, often contradictory, manifestations.

Discussion of inclusion in low and middle-income countries adds further complexity, for International Development Agencies (IDAs) exert a strong influence on conceptualisations of educational inclusion in these nations. Agencies such as UNESCO, UNICEF and the World Bank have produced comprehensive guidance on inclusion for low and middle-income countries (e.g. UNESCO 2017, UNICEF 2009; World Bank 2011) which have been ‘enthusiastically’ adopted (Kalyanpur 2014). The implementation of this guidance is widely supported by funding and expertise from high-income countries (Le Fanu 2015) and implemented by education NGOs working on the ground that are, themselves, backed by Western charities and voluntary organisations (Srivastava, de Boer, and Pijl 2015). Thus, unsurprisingly, notions like learner-centred education, child-friendly schools (CFS) and education for all (EfA) now dominate inclusion discourse in Cambodia (Kalyanpur 2014).

However, there are growing concerns that this IDA guidance, based largely on Western educational orthodoxies, ‘represents a process of westernisation disguised as quality and effective teaching’ (Guthrie 2011, xiii). A key concern is that the global south may be adopting western prescriptions uncritically, leading to fears that the:

 … global political and economic environment reproduces old patterns of colonial exploitation under the veneer of international assistance affecting outcomes for policies and programmes on disability and inclusive education. (Kalyanpur 2014, 80)

In a detailed critique of IDA influence specifically in Cambodia, Kalyanpur (2016) argues that EfA, CFS and the global inclusion agenda are not easily compatible with the deeply traditional, hierarchical thinking prevalent in this country, nor with a context with such limited economic, human and material resources. Kalyanpur (2016) also proposes that the implementation of inclusion standards, guidance and programmes from the global north has brought many problems that are largely overlooked, including distortions arising from inaccurate translation of terminology, misunderstandings about the distinction between the medical and social models of disability, problems arising from cultural deference and passive acceptance of overseas authority, and confusion arising from a lack of critique of underpinning inclusion theory and its appropriateness for transfer to the Cambodian context.

Another widespread problem is the transience of overseas consultants who undertake short-term projects and then leave before scaling up. The result is a geographically uneven distribution of educational development, a lack of joined-up thinking and frequent duplication (Kalyanpur 2016). Kalyanpur argues that, despite good intentions, this has led to the marginalisation of local realities and the promulgation of inclusion programmes that are impractical and unsustainable (Kalyanpur 2016).

Based on a similar analysis, Le Fanu (2013) concludes that an important way of ensuring that inclusive education is developed in accordance with local needs is to demand that IDAs, NGOs and overseas consultants and researchers ‘themselves become inclusive organisations’:

They must become inclusive in the sense that they develop the broadest and deepest understanding of the social worlds in which they operate … rather than becoming prescribers of norms … They should therefore become facilitators of dialogue, disseminators of information and open-minded investigators of multi-faceted social realities. (146)

Kalyanpur (2016) adds that international agencies and consultants can achieve this, in part, by:

 … giving local stakeholders time and opportunity to develop structures that emerge from their own realities which allows them to be more invested in the (development) process, rather than responding to top-down directives. (20)

Thus, a process of ‘cultural reciprocity’, involving learning with and from each other, suggests a way forward. Essential to this process is a shared understanding of the impact of western orthodoxies and an ‘un-silencing of local epistemologies’ (Kalyanpur 2016) in order to work towards solutions that are practical, realistic and relevant to the local context. Artiles and Kozleski (2016) suggest that, in order to achieve this, researchers should widen their unit of analysis of inclusion beyond the classroom and school to the wider community so that it is possible to ‘link systematically the macro and micro forces in the study of inclusion’(18).

It is with this background in mind that a small team of international researchers engaged in mapping educational inclusion in remote, rural areas of Battambang Province in Cambodia. We aimed to examine teacher and headteacher perspectives on educational inclusion and, through a critical analysis of the findings, clarify practitioner definitions of inclusive practice, identify barriers to inclusion and pinpoint practitioner needs. We hope to build on these findings, in the second phase of the study, by developing a realistic and sustainable model of intervention to foster capacity-building in inclusion in remote rural schools that is locally led, locally based and collaborative.

Context of the study

Cambodia is a lower-middle-income country in South East Asia with a population of 16 million people (World Bank 2017), 77% of whom live in rural areas (World Bank 2018). The economy is based on agriculture, mainly rice production. Under the Pol Pot regime (1975–1979), education was decimated in Cambodia as children were put to hard labour in the rice fields. Large sections of the educated class, including teachers, were killed (Kalyanpur 2011). Since then, the education system has been slowly re-established, but largely in urban areas creating a ‘stark’ rural/urban divide (Kluttz 2015).

The Cambodian government sees inclusive education as a priority, though it relies heavily, as emphasised above, on IDAs for its conceptualisation of educational inclusion. The Education Strategic Plan 2019–2023 (Ministry of Education, Youth & Sport [MoEYS] 2019) states:

The ministry’s immediate objective is to ensure that all Cambodian children and youth have equal opportunities to access quality education, consistent with the Constitution and the government’s commitment to the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child, regardless of social status, geography, ethnicity, religion, language, gender and physical form. (18)

However, the Cambodia Government acknowledge in this document that:

challenges remain for disadvantaged and younger children, children in remote and rural areas, or migrant children … (and that) … appropriate strategies are needed to reach these children. (21)

This is confirmed in the literature. For example, schools in remote and rural areas often run in make-shift buildings with no electricity or clean water, poorly qualified teachers and few resources (UNICEF 2016). This profoundly affects the quality of educational provision. Only 50% of children in rural areas have access to education (KHEN 2018), though these statistics are difficult to verify. Drop-out rates are high and ‘marginalised children are still deprived of their right to an inclusive quality education’ (UNICEF 2016, 1.) For example, children with disabilities living in rural areas face considerable challenges physically accessing education, and suffer isolation, marginalisation and discrimination due, in part, to cultural and religious beliefs and the commonly held assumption that children with disabilities cannot learn (Kalyanpur 2011; CDPO 2017). Educational expectations for girls are more limited than those for boys – especially girls with disabilities (CDPO 2017). Muslim children are often socially, culturally and educationally excluded from mainstream education (Lunsford, Say, and Shahkhalili 2018). The Cambodian Government recognises that there needs to be more focus on school access, attendance and completion amongst disadvantaged groups, and greater priority given to improvements in the curriculum and standards, physical infrastructure and resourcing, child health, teacher training and school leadership in disadvantaged schools (MoEYS 2019).

Due to the paucity of school infrastructure in remote, rural areas, some Cambodian NGOs have focused on school building projects. For example, since 2014, KHEN (Khmer NGO for Education), based in the north-west town of Battambang, has built or re-furbished 41 schools in the remote districts of Samlout and Rukhak Kiri in Battambang Province. This has enabled 9000-plus children to attend school who formerly had no access to educational provision. Most newly built KHEN schools have clean drinking water and basic disabled access, which means that, for the first time, children with physical disabilities can attend their local school. All teachers receive some support for child-centred education, child protection and child rights education from KHEN staff. KHEN has therefore initiated a sustained programme of school building and educational improvement in rural areas that is unprecedented and has been highly beneficial to local communities.

However, though access has been improved, it remains unclear to what extent inclusive practice has been established in these rural primary schools, and the quality of this practice. Indeed, little is known about the quality of educational inclusion in rural schools anywhere in Cambodia, since information is ‘fragmented, inaccurate or non-existent’ (Kalyanpur 2011, 1055) and research is largely focused on urban education (Hayashi 2014). There are therefore problems establishing a veridical picture of educational inclusion in rural schools and a clear need for reflexive, context-sensitive, participatory research to ‘establish basic facts’ (Polat 2011, 53).

The study

The research reported here was based on a rich intercultural, transdisciplinary collaboration between two Scottish researchers based at the University of Aberdeen, two Cambodian researchers based at University of Battambang and the Director of KHEN (Education NGO) based in Battambang city. Rural schools in Battambang Province became the focus of the study because the Director of KHEN developed concerns about the poor quality of inclusion observed in newly built schools in the area. It seemed that, though more children now had access to the classroom, there continued to be a significant lack of participation amongst children with disabilities and other additional support needs. The Director therefore initiated the project to explore educational inclusion in schools in Samlout and Rukhak Kiri, two remote, rural areas of Battambang Province.

Economically, Samlout and Rukhak Kiri are very poor areas characterised by subsistence farming in corn, cassava, fruit, vegetables and small-scale rice cultivation. Literacy rates are very low here and the physical infrastructure is extremely poor. Both areas can become inaccessible in the rainy season when dirt roads turn to thick mud. These are also sites with residual landmines, a legacy of the internecine warfare of the 1970s.

Together, during an intensive period of research between October 2018 and January 2019, the research team examined the national and local inclusion policy and practice context, conducted round-table discussions with key education actors in the region, undertook quantitative and qualitative research in rural schools and gathered secondary data. Our aim was that all members of the research team should be involved in the design, planning and implementation of the project from the start, with clear roles, joint leadership and shared rights and responsibilities. Since the Aberdeen researchers (and authors of this paper) do not speak Khmer, the national language of Cambodia, members of the Cambodian team acted as translators throughout the project. The research plan and methodology (set out below) were jointly designed and approved by the KHEN Board of Trustees, the Ethics Committee of the University of Aberdeen and the Director of the University of Battambang prior to commencement.

However, Mason, Crossley, and Bond (2019) point out that international research partnerships are too often ‘under-explored’ and ‘under-problematised’ in practice (3) and that, even where a strong culture of collaboration has been established, they may still perpetuate ‘unequal power relations that maintain Northern hegemony’ – especially with respect to control over funding, leadership and publication (3). This is a warning we take seriously. We intend to reflect critically upon the collaborative research process and the tensions and dilemmas it generated in a future paper.

The research questions underpinning this study were:

1. How do primary school teachers and headteachers in rural schools rate their self-efficacy using the Teacher Efficacy in Inclusive Practices (TEIP) scale?

2. What are the experiences and views of teachers and headteachers about educational inclusion in rural primary schools?

Research design

This was a concurrent mixed methods study that drew on both quantitative and qualitative research methods within a pragmatist paradigm (Creswell and Plano Clark 2007). This implies as empirical approach that ‘orients itself towards solving practical problems in the real world’ (Feilzer 2010, 8). A concurrent mixed methods design is useful for confirming, cross-validating or corroborating findings with no emphasis on any one method, thus providing effective triangulation. It enables researchers to compensate for weaknesses in one method by off-setting them against the strengths of others. For example, whilst the quantitative methods permitted standardised assessment of relevant skills, the qualitative methods added depth and detail to the analysis. Qualitative methods also, by definition, fostered participation and ownership, which were vital to ensure the integrity of the inclusive and participatory ethos of the study.

With regards to ethics, all the participants in the study were informed of the nature and purpose of the research both verbally (by Cambodian research partners) and in writing (translated into Khmer). They were also informed verbally, on information sheets and consent forms of their right to anonymity, confidentiality and the right to withdraw at any time. All participants provided written consent for participation (including consent for photographs and video recording). All school visits were organised by KHEN and approved by the District Education Office. Fieldwork was conducted in remote rural schools in the Samlout and Rukhak Kiri districts of Battambang Province in October 2018.

Once again, we recognise that there is important debate around ethics in international research that considers the impact of macro and micro level differences in perception, cultural values and cultural sensitivities, etc. on ethical processes and outcomes (Mason, Crossley, and Bond 2019). Though a full debate of ethical matters is not within the scope of this paper, we will return to this theme in the future paper.

Data collection

To collect quantitative data, we adapted the Teacher Efficacy in Inclusive Practices (TEIP) scale (Sharma, Loreman, and Forlin 2012; Park et al. 2014). This instrument was selected because it has been used in other parts of the world, e.g. China (Malinen, Savolainen, and Xu 2012), Finland and South Africa (Savolainen et al. 2012) and has a Cronbach’s Alpha score of α = .90 which implies a good level of reliability. The instrument is apposite because it evaluates teacher self-efficacy beliefs about inclusion with respect to three global dimensions of inclusive practice, namely: efficacy to use inclusive instruction, efficacy in managing behaviour and efficacy in collaboration, thereby providing a broad overview of perceptions of inclusive practice. Eighteen statements about teacher efficacy in inclusive practice are organised into these three dimensions on the TEIP questionnaire. Participants were required to respond to the statements using a 6-point Likert scale.

The team were sensitive to cultural context when applying this tool in Cambodia, anticipating that inclusive education might be conceptualised and understood differently in this context. The research team recognised the danger of the literal translation of Western terms directly into Khmer, explored vividly, and at some length, by Kalyanpur (2011, 2014). The TEIP questionnaire was therefore adapted by Cambodian members of the research team who were encouraged to seek clarification for any terminologies or vocabulary that they found complicated or ambiguous during the translation. However, since the translators are all very experienced in the field of Education, and regularly exposed to education documents written in English, they did not report any significant problems.

The TEIP questionnaire was distributed to a sample of 250 headteachers and teachers working in primary schools across the two districts under investigation. We had a response rate of 48% (118 respondents). All the teacher respondents were of ‘credited’ teacher status i.e. they held a formal teacher training qualification (2 years of post-secondary school training).

Further, we collected qualitative data, as recommended by Sharma, Loreman, and Forlin (2012), in order to follow up, and make deeper sense of, the TEIP quantitative data. Volunteers were recruited from those who had already completed the questionnaire. All participants were headteachers or teachers working in KHEN-built accessible schools across the districts of Samlout and Rukhak Kiri.

It is important to note, however, that, after construction, KHEN schools are handed over to the District Education Authority and are run like any other government primary school in the area. Headteachers and teachers are appointed by the local authority, and the curriculum, funding, resourcing etc. are aligned to local and national education policy. This means that the quantitative findings of the study may be generalisable to other Cambodian rural schools. Though qualitative findings are not generalisable, it is reasonable to anticipate they would be of interest and relevance to headteachers and teachers in other rural primary schools with similar characteristics.

Lesson observations were conducted in three rural primary schools by members of the research team in pairs (one English speaker, one Khmer speaker). This enabled translation to be provided in situ to clarify instructional proceedings and content. It also enabled data triangulation. The Khmer speakers both held doctorates and were senior members of staff at the University of Battambang. They were both experienced researchers, trained in research methods.

Semi-structured interviews were conducted with 11 headteachers and 11 teachers from 5 primary schools. In addition, six regional education officials were interviewed, as well as personnel from the district Teacher Education College. All interviews were translated from English into Khmer and back into English during interviews by members of the research team working in pairs (as above). The interviews were either audio-recorded or video-recorded.

A semi-structured schedule was used by each research pair to guide the interviews. Use of language was carefully considered at the planning stage of the schedule to ensure that technical terms arising from Western constructs were avoided, as mentioned above. The interview questions were, of course, posed by the Khmer speakers in each research pair, and were carefully adapted during interaction to ensure that the meaning and intention of each question was fully understood by participants. The Khmer speakers also aimed to sensitively translate the responses to the questions back into English to ensure that the integrity of participant voice was maintained. However, it ought to be noted that this is never a ‘perfect’ process as, in any research interview scenario, researcher interpretations and subtle power relations, may distort participant subjectivities (Caretta 2014). Such effects can be amplified in intercultural contexts (Caretta 2014). As far as possible, this was kept in check through researcher reflexivity (Caretta 2014).

All interviews took place in local venues well known to the participants in order to ensure their comfort and ease. These were either school rooms where the participants worked, or familiar training venues linked to the District Education Office where, for example, KHEN training generally took place. One such venue was a space with a table under the shelter of a large tree in the grounds of the District Education Office. Another was a bench under a pergola in a school playground.

Data analysis

We used SPSS 24 to analyse the quantitative data and to produce descriptive statistics. We calculated the frequency distribution of responses across the scale, and the mean and standard deviation. For qualitative data, a thematic approach was utilised. Thematic analysis is an inductive method, based on systematic coding, used for identifying, analysing and reporting patterns within the data (Braun and Clarke 2006). We generated the following themes through thematic analysis: meaning of inclusion; value of inclusion; training; forms of support; barriers to inclusion; future needs. We will revisit these themes in the next section when presenting the interview-based findings.

Findings

Quantitative findings

The findings of the TEIP scale are presented in Table 1. The data indicates that most of the teachers sampled reported high levels of efficacy in inclusive practice in the domains of ‘efficacy in use of inclusive instruction’ and ‘efficacy in behavioural management’ (81–100%). The results in the ‘efficacy in collaboration’ dimension were slightly more mixed, with between 13% and 25% of the respondents indicating low levels of efficacy across several items. Nonetheless, 75% or more of the respondents reported high levels of efficacy in this dimension.

Table 1. Descriptive statistics for teacher efficacy of inclusive practices (TEIP) (N = 118).

Domain/Item	Strongly disagree/disagree/disagree somewhat	Strongly agree/agree/agree somewhat	Mean	Standard deviation
Efficacy to use inclusive instruction
I am confident in designing learning tasks so that the individual needs of learners with special needs are accommodated	22 (19%)	94 (81%)	4.45	1.007
I can use a variety of assessment strategies (e.g. portfolio assessment, modified tests, performance-based assessment, etc.)	9 (8%)	107 (91%)	4.40	.635
I can provide appropriate challenges for very capable learners.	6 (6%)	111 (93%)	4.97	.856
I can provide an alternate explanation, or examples when learners are confused.	3 (3%)	111 (97%)	5.02	.627
I can accurately measure learners’ comprehension of what I have taught.	3 (3%)	115 (97%)	4.99	.634
Efficacy in managing behaviour
I am confident when dealing with learners who are physically aggressive.	8 (7%)	108(93%)	4.71	.710
I am confident in my ability to prevent disruptive behaviour in the classroom when it occurs.	7 (6%)	111 (93%)	4.61	.751
I can control disruptive behaviour in the classroom.	4 (3%)	114(97%)	4.69	.623
I can make my expectations clear about learners’ behaviour.	3(3%)	113(97%)	4.67	.656
I can calm a learner who is disruptive or noisy.	1(2%)	116 (98%)	4.69	.606
I can get learners to follow classroom rules.	0	118 (100%)	4.95	.568
Efficacy in collaboration
I am confident in informing others who know little about laws and policies relating to the inclusion of learners with special needs.	29(25%)	87(75%)	4.05	.950
I am confident in my ability to get parents involved in school activities of their children with special needs.	28(24%)	88(76%)	4.10	.964
I can work jointly with other professionals and staff (e.g. aides, other teachers) to teach learners with special needs in the classroom.	24 (21%)	92(79%)	4.43	1.073
I can collaborate with other professionals (e.g. special needs teachers or speech pathologists) in designing educational plans for learners with special needs.	23(20%)	93(80%)	4.28	1.045
I can assist all families in helping their children do well in school.	15 (13%)	100 (87%)	4.38	.923
I am confident in adapting school-wide or state-wide assessment so that learners with special needs can be assessed.	15(13%)	101(87%)	4.43	.867
I can make parents feel comfortable coming to school.	4 (4%)	100 (96%)	4.82	.641

It is worth noting that two collaborative items showed slightly high standard deviations, namely ‘I can work jointly with other professionals and staff (e.g. aides, other teachers) to teach learners with special needs in the classroom’ (standard deviation = 1.073); and ‘I can collaborate with other professionals (e.g. special needs teachers or speech pathologists) in designing educational plans for learners with special needs’ (standard deviation = 1.045). A third item with a slightly high standard deviation was within the teaching and learning dimension: ‘I am confident in designing learning tasks so that the individual needs of learners with special needs are accommodated’ (standard deviation = 1.007). This indicates that teachers’ and headteachers responses to these items showed greater variability with less clustering around the mean. It is also worth noting that 19% of respondents reported low efficacy in relation to designing learning tasks for pupils with special needs.

Nonetheless, despite these caveats, the levels of self-efficacy in inclusion practice across the sample in all domains were generally high, suggesting the teachers and headteachers held strong beliefs about their ability to teach inclusively, manage behaviour and collaborate effectively. We are mindful, however, that the questionnaire responses were self-reported.

Qualitative findings

Observations were conducted in three rural classrooms with, on average, 40 children. They included low numbers of children with a range of mild to severe conditions including those with intellectual disabilities, hearing and communication problems, stunted growth, physical disabilities and Downs Syndrome. There was also a mix of boys and girls, some children of Islamic faith and many children from very poor backgrounds. The curriculum in these schools typically covered Reading, Maths, Physical Education, tree-planting and vegetable classes.

Teaching and learning in the observed classrooms was characterised by the following features: desks organised in rows, teacher at the front, predominance of ‘chalk and talk’, emphasis on rote learning, children largely seated and passive, whole-class learning and limited resources for teaching and learning. It ought to be stated that observations were undertaken at the start of term when teaching and learning may not have been in ‘full swing’. Thus, the observations may not be wholly representative of day to day practice. Nonetheless, they accurately reflect the settings in which the teachers and headteachers were functioning at the time of interview.

Participant views and experiences of educational inclusion in rural primary schools

Participants’ views and experiences clustered around the following themes: meaning of inclusion; value of inclusion; training; forms of support; barriers to inclusion; future needs. These will now be examined in turn.

Meaning of inclusion

The findings suggest that participants held broad conceptualisations of inclusion. For example, headteacher and teacher quotes indicate that they acknowledge inclusion applies to all children, not just children with disabilities. For example, they stated inclusion implies:

… including everyone in the class for learning – diversity of learners.

It means including all children during teaching and learning.

Children with disabilities learn together with others – no discrimination – rich or poor, race or religion.

However, interestingly, this focus on ‘everybody’ is not sustained beyond the discussion of definitions. Indeed, respondent comments on subsequent themes indicate that disability is their main concern. For example, they reference only disability when considering forms of support, barriers to learning and future needs whilst making no mention of issues relating to gender, ethnicity or any other characteristic. This implies that whilst practitioners are aware, theoretically, of their obligations to all children, children with disabilities are their main priority in practice.

The findings also suggest that the participants were largely concerned about ensuring all children learn together in the local school, rather than being segregated. For example, participants stated:

Every child should be in school – any child should learn like any other.

No special schools so everyone in mainstream learning together.

Inclusion was also strongly framed as an anti-discrimination and child rights issue, which seems to imply a social model of disability. This is evidenced by the following quotes:

No discrimination against disability … 

Should have the same right to education no matter what their ability.

… no discrimination – rich or poor, race or religion.

Overall, headteachers and teachers clearly indicated that inclusion is about all children, child rights and their participation in mainstream education. The participants had no doubt that segregation was incompatible with inclusion and that all local children should attend their local school.

The value of inclusion

Participants indicated that inclusion was valuable mainly for social reasons. For example, they felt that social mobility was an important outcome:

… (they) will proceed to higher education.

Better jobs for educated learners.

So that children can progress from being farmers to doctors.

The public good was also considered important:

We need good leaders for the country.

Country needs more educated people.

Social cohesion was valued as a potential consequence of inclusion:

Children should learn to live, work together.

(Children will) change their behaviour and become respectful individuals who help others.

However, the importance of literacy and numeracy and learning for its own sake were also mentioned as outcomes valued by the participants:

… that they are able to read, calculate, and write … 

Learning is intrinsically important.

Arguably, the strong emphasis given by participants to a range of social factors may reflect a concern with social progress linked to Cambodia’s history. The advancement of the country and of future generations was a key theme for several interviewees.

Training

Intervewees indicated that they had received very little training in inclusive practice :

The headteacher has not received any training around inclusive education. The other teacher in the school has equally not had any training.

Only one member has received training focusing on identification of vulnerable/children with disability.

Most of the training cited related to the Child Rights and Child Protection training delivered by KHEN, and some participants mentioned training in inclusion delivered by other NGOs and the local Department of Education:

(Training was) provided by KHEN and they introduced the concept to the school … Training included children’s rights and equity in education.

Have had children’s rights training with KHEN plus child protection training. Have received an inclusion training manual from Dept of Education Officer.

Have had training from various NGOs for last 2 years including inclusive education, friendship education, pastoral education and positive discipline.

It was evident that this training was considered inadequate in terms of increasing capacity for effective inclusive education.

Headteachers and teachers also informed us that the lack of training and resourcing at school level was reflected at teacher education level, further compounding the issue. They stated:

There is a lack of expertise (at teacher education level).

Capacity-building is required.

There is a lack of materials.

There’s no budget to train lecturers.

There’s a lack of infrastructure.

The teachers’ perceptions of lack of training were fully corroborated by the teacher educators we interviewed. They confirmed the lack of training in inclusion at Higher Education level and verified that outreach support and continung professional development were simply not available to teachers in remote areas due to the distances involved and costs associated with this. This was further corroborated by the Director of Education when interviewed. Clearly, if there is a lack of capacity in inclusive education at Higher Education level, there is little hope for capacity building in inclusion on the ground in remote, rural schools. Whilst it might be expected that the Cambodia Ministry for Education Departments of Special Education and Teacher Training would be responsible for providing training on inclusive education to all practitioners all Cambodian schools, feedback suggests that such training had not been accessed by the teachers in our study. Perhaps this reflects the paucity of investment in remote rural schools acknowledged in the literature (Kluttz 2015).

Forms of support

The findings show that the forms of support offered to children with disabilities in the classroom were limited and mainly consisted of ‘common sense’ strategies such as bringing children with additional needs to the front of the class for more teacher and peer support or repeating a grade to consolidate learning:

It’s difficult, but other children help, and teachers sit the child in front for full attention.

… brought to the front to pay attention.

Teacher helps with writing.

Boy has repeated the grade twice.

One teacher specified what they did for a child who lost their hand after an accident:

… (child with) right hand injury told to write with left hand and given more time.

Another teacher simply commented that children with additional needs are treated like all the other children, but given more attention:

Same as for others, but more student centred.

The interviewees were acutely aware that they have few strategies at their disposal and recognised the importance of training as a way of enhancing capacity for inclusive education. This is fleshed out in the sections on Barriers to Inclusion and Future Needs below.

Barriers to inclusion

Teachers and Headteachers talked at length about barriers to inclusion. The barriers they reported can be organised into three categories following the framework proposed by Allan (2013): structural barriers (i.e. those relating to school processes, procedures, organisation of teaching and learning and teacher education); attitudinal barriers (i.e. those relating to values, beliefs and attitudes); environmental barriers (i.e. those relating to physical space and place).

Structural barriers

The key ‘structural barrier’ to inclusion was a lack of inclusive pedagogy and skill, especially with regard to disability, linked to a lack of training as discussed above:

Many teachers do not know how to teach them.

Individualised teaching is a challenge.

We need specific methodologies training.

There is a lack of skills, techniques and teaching methods

(The teacher) cannot support a child with Down’s Syndrome

Further, as one teacher comments, a lack of teacher skills directly contributes to drop-out rates amongst children with disabilities. They stated:

Learners with disabilities drop out of school because of lack of teacher expertise.

A lack of textbooks and other materials for teaching and learning was also reported by all interviewees:

… no resources for supporting learners … 

We need textbook materials.

Support is needed such as teaching and learning materials.

Undoubteldy, a lack of resources severely restricts educational inclusion and the general quality of educational provision in these rural schools. This was noted during observations. However, due to a lack of research, it is unclear whether this is typical of rural schools in other areas of Cambodia.

Attitudinal barriers

The attitudes of the teachers and headteachers we interviewed were uniformally positive and constructive towards inclusion. They commented:

When a child has problems, the teacher wants to work more with them and help them.

Teachers want children to make progress and want to help them.

Everyone in mainstream learning together – it’s good.

However, some teachers acknowledged inclusion was a challenge:

It’s difficult to put into practice. I do not see it happening in classrooms.

Teachers find it hard to teach learners with disabilities.

This is likley to relate directly to lack of teacher expertise and resources, as explored above. Interviewees also indicated that child and parental attitudes could sometimes be negative, though such views were in the minority. Where pupil attitudes were negative this was directly linked by participants to disability and to incidences of bullying:

Sometimes they laugh at them or bully them … 

They might discriminate at first. Teachers have to advise on rights then children would be supportive

This pupil is bullied. The teacher told them to stop and tried to explain why the child is different. Now they have made friends.

Interviewees noted that, due to their Buddhist beliefs, some parents of children with disabilities do not wish to send their child to school:

Some parents engage with school, but not all – especially parents of children with disabilities.

One mother did not want to send her son to school because of disability.

They also highlighted that many parents cannot support their children either at home or in school as they, themselves, are illiterate and inumerate.

The literature confirms the widespread belief, especially amongst more traditional, rural communities in Cambodia, that disability can be ‘attributed to spiritual causes’ and that children with disabilities cannot learn (Kalyanpur 2014, 85). Hence, the reluctance to send these children to school or, indeed, employ them as they get older (Kalyanpur 2014).

Environmental barriers

Environmental barriers to inclusion were linked to a range of factors that directly impacted on absenteeism, such as problems getting to school due to geographical distances, poor roads, flooding during the rainy season and lack of transport. Interviewees stated:

Geography, the distances (are a problem)

Children living in poverty and living 5 km away or more do not attend school – too far to walk.

There’s no transport because there’s no roads.

In the rainy season, there’s more absenteeism due to heavy rains.

Clearly, these environmental barriers are impossible for practitioners to directly address. Unfortunately, they disproportinately affect children with disabilities and their school attendance, but have an impact on all children. Many of these barriers reflect a lack of infrastructure that is typical across remote, rural provinces of Cambodia (Kluttz 2015).

Future needs

There was considerable convergence amongst the interviewees about future needs. Unsurprisingly, given teacher and headteacher perceptions of barriers to inclusion (see above), a key finding was the need for inclusion training:

More is required in the training of teachers for inclusive practice.

How to create an enabling environment to enable learning and to motivate.

Specific disability training was also a key priority for interviewees, since they found it difficult to identify the conditions some of the children were experiencing, had no access to expert advice or diagnostic services, and did not know how to address the children’s specific learning difficulties:

‘ … disability training (is needed) to share with parents and local community’

‘ … training of different types to understand the different needs’

‘(We) need special education training.’

As mentioned above, it is, arguably, significant that teachers and headteachers did not highlight training needs in relation to gender, ethnicity, religious background or any other child characteristics that might be relevant to inclusion. This did not seem to be a priority for any of the interviewees.

Resources was the third area of future need the teachers and headteacher emphasised. The need for textbooks and materials for teaching, learning and home-study were a recurring theme:

(We need) resources for teaching and learning

Textbooks and resources.

More home-study materials.

One teacher also commented that bikes would be a useful resource to widen access during the dry season; for another, supportive seating was a priority:

Bikes would help in the dry season.

Supportive seating for children with physical disabilities.

Summary

The qualitative findings presented above paint a vivid picture of the beliefs and experiences of teachers and headteachers working in rural schools in Battambang Province, Cambodia. The challenges of the resource-constrained context, as well as the realities of teaching in geographically remote schools with little access to expertise and professional development were emphasised by all participants.

In the final section of this paper we will draw out the key issues arising from the quantitative and qualitative findings and highlight the implications for the next stage of the research study.

Discussion

This study investigated teachers and headteachers self-efficacy beliefs and their views and experiences of educational inclusion in rural schools in Battambang Province. The findings offer insights into the status of educational inclusion and possible future directions.

With regards to self-efficacy beliefs about educational inclusion, it is evident that, overall, rural teachers and headteachers rated their self-efficacy highly across the three dimensions of inclusive instruction, managing behaviour and collaboration. On the surface at least, this suggests that they considered their inclusive practice to be largely effective, assured and unproblematic. However, findings arising from the qualitative methods stand in stark contrast to this finding and highlight considerable disparities between the questionnaire and interview data. The interviews served to unpack perceptions of educational inclusion reported in the TEIP questionnaire, and showed that, in practice, participants’ sense of self-efficacy was called strongly into question.

From a methodological perspective, this confirms the importance the TEIP scale developers attributed to using qualitative approaches alongside the TEIP questionnaire in order to triangulate the findings and establish disparities and commonalities in the data (Sharma, Loreman, and Forlin 2012). While there are several potential explanations for the disparities highlighted in this study, it is possible that one of the main factors may be that a ‘social desirability bias’ was in operation (Krumpal 2013). If this was the case, it implies that the respondents to the TEIP questionnaire may have exaggerated their sense of self-efficacy to align with professional expectations that they are competent inclusive teachers. The fact that Cambodia is a hierarchical society where people are expected to defer to authority (Kalyanpur 2014) may have compounded this tendency. It is also possible that a range of other factors such as method effects linked to self-report Braun et al. 2012), sampling effects and construct complexity (Harris and Brown 2010) and misinterpretation, possibly linked to translation (Van Ness, Abma, and Jonsson 2010), could have contributed to weak data alignment. Equally, it is possible that the interview data was subject to bias, though it is more unusual for participants to deliberately deny their competence. It is also possible that, by chance, the practitioners who volunteered for interview were amongst those questionnaire respondents who did not rate their efficacy highly. Though it is impossible to account, definitively, for discrepancies between the quantitative and qualitative data, the quantitative findings are, nevertheless, vital and should not be dismissed or interpreted in isolation from the qualitative findings.

The qualitative findings raise several important issues. At the conceptual level, the understanding of education inclusion expressed by the participants suggests a focus on inclusion as participation and empowerment, rather than inclusion as access or integration, implying an associated shift from a medical model to a social model of disability. For example, the participants stressed the importance of all children working together, irrespective of disability, race, gender, etc., their right to mainstream rather than segregated schooling and protection against discrimination. Yet, it is notable that there was no explicit reference to participation in the analysis of their inclusive practice, nor were there references to the need for curriculum differentiation, inclusive pedagogy, new forms of classroom organisation, shifts in the role of the teacher, or any of the other features of inclusive practice associated with inclusion in Western cultures. It is also notable that, whilst the teachers and headteachers acknowledged the concept of ‘inclusion for all’, their immediate focus and inclusion priority was children with disabilities. It is therefore clear that whilst the participants were aware of the main tenets of educational inclusion promulgated by the Cambodian government and IDA guidance, they were unsure how to operationalise it in their classrooms. In effect, their practice was ‘stuck’ at the access/integration level where children are required to fit into classrooms that have not been adapted to their needs.

Arguably, this is not surprising given that the participants are in the early stages of the inclusion process. It is only relatively recently that they have begun to welcome children with a wide range of needs into their classrooms, thanks to accessible school building projects in the area. However, it might also be argued that the findings confirm the work of Kalyanpur (2016) and her analysis of the mis-match between Western and Cambodia interpretations of inclusion. Kalyanpur emphasises the problematic gaps in Cambodian practitioner knowledge of western inclusion orthodoxies and proposes that such gaps are challenging because they imply a weak grasp of the theoretical issues underpinning inclusion. The findings of this study allow us to tentatively confirm this gap.

Further, the findings indicate that the realities on the ground in remote, rural schools in Battambang Province mean that western conceptualisations of inclusion cannot possibly be fully realised, as Kalyanpur (2016) and Le Fanu (2013) discovered in their own work. Participants specified that this is due to the structural, attitudinal and environmental barriers particular to the schools under investigation. Many of these barriers, such as geographical and seasonal issues, are contextual givens that cannot be addressed, in the short term, without major government funding for infrastructural improvements in the area. Lack of resources for teaching and learning also requires capital input at district and government level. Parental attitudes, linked to Buddhism, are deeply cultural and are not easily amenable to change.

Yet, despite these barriers, teachers and headteachers did not fundamentally question the inclusion endeavour. Arguably, this supports Kalyanpur (2016) and Le Fanu’s (2013) thesis that practitioners lack a critique of western notions of educational inclusion and are not encouraged to construct innovative forms of inclusion that are more culturally accessible and sustainable. Rather, somewhat pragmatically, teachers and headteachers recognised that training in inclusion and disability were the two barriers that could, realistically, be addressed in order to help them improve inclusive practice and educational outcomes for all children. They located their future needs firmly in these two areas.

Lack of teacher and headteacher knowledge and understanding of inclusion was directly linked by interviewees to lack of training opportunities and local expertise in inclusion. Indeed, in our interview with personnel from the local teacher education college, it became clear that there is little provision for inclusion training during the education of student teachers, and no continuing professional development available for qualified teachers in rural schools due to the distances and costs involved. Inclusion training is therefore severely restricted in remote rural schools as a result of socio-economic and geographical factors.

This is further evidenced in the literature where a widespread lack of ongoing teacher professional development in Cambodia is confirmed (King 2018). It is replaced, in some areas, using a low cost, but, arguably, ineffective ‘cascade’ model of teacher professional development (King 2018) whereby training received centrally by one teacher is passed on by that teacher to others in local schools through several rounds of informal training. The danger is that this training is quickly diluted and distorted. According to King, more school-based teacher professional development is required to improve teaching quality in Cambodia and to enhance capacity-building for inclusion. It is also possible that local community expertise and resources could be mobilised to support inclusive practice in order to unite and capitalise on ‘micro and macro forces’, as Artiles and Kozleski (2016) suggest. However, such ideas do not seem to have traction in the current educational climate and were not considered by the interviewees.

Indeed, with no recourse to inclusion training, it is understandable that teachers draw on pragmatic approaches, such as ‘other children helping’ and ‘bringing them to the front in the classroom’ to support inclusion in the classroom. Such locally and culturally appropriate approaches require better understanding and appreciation, and where possible, could be extended and more fully harnessed.

The lack of expertise in inclusion amongst teachers and headteachers in this study was compounded by their lack of understanding of disability, as reported above and confirmed in the literature (Baker-Munton 2019). It is clear from the findings that the teachers we interviewed were not fully aware of the specific nature of the disability of some of the children in their classes, and lacked knowledge and understanding of a range of common conditions such as Downs Syndrome. In addition, teachers must include children with disabilities without the wide network of support services enjoyed by schools in Northern nations e.g. diagnosic and advisory services, therapeutic services, etc. This is the case more widely across Cambodia (Kartika 2017). It should also be emphasised that rural schools do not have access to the specialist equipment, such as wheelchairs and specialist adjustable seating for children with stunted growth or physical disabilities. It should therefore come as little surprise that practitioners in remote, rural schools must simply make the best of current circumstances.

Conclusion

In this paper we have critically explored the literature on educational inclusion in international contexts, examined, theoretically, the ambiguities and complexities associated with the concept of inclusion and the challenges of progressing from ‘inclusion as access’ to ‘inclusion as empowered participation for all’ – especially in the context of low and middle-income countries. We then outlined a mixed methods study which explored perceptions of inclusion and inclusive practice amongst teachers and headteachers in remote rural schools in Cambodia. The findings present a paradox; whilst the questionnaire feedback generally suggests high levels of self-efficacy in inclusion amongst respondents, the more in-depth interview findings suggests that, in practice, practitioner experiences of inclusion are complex and problematic. Indeed, the interview evidence strongly indicates that participants are deeply dissatisfied with their lack of progress towards a more empowering and participatory form of inclusion for all, and attribute this to structural, attitudinal and environmental barriers, and specific gaps in their knowledge and expertise in inclusion and disability. There is evidence of a lack of awareness of the key ideas and theory underpinning national and local inclusion policy and, arguably, a lack of critique of the suitability and relevance of western notions of inclusion to schools in remote, rural contexts.

The next stage of this study will focus on the development of a capacity-building programme in inclusion for teachers and headteachers in rural schools. The aim of the programme will be to support practitioners to identify, co-create and implement next steps in their journey towards inclusive practice. A key issue for the research team, going forward, will be how to appropriately address these next steps whilst enabling a more critical understanding of western notions of inclusion coupled with the co-development of innovative forms of inclusive practice that capitalise on local culture and community approaches and resources. It is therefore imperative that the next stage continues to be approached in a spirit of collaboration involving meaningful multidisciplinary and community inclusion and participation. Above all, target outcomes must meet the needs of teachers, headteachers and, ultimately, pupils in rural schools in culturally sensitive, practical and sustainable ways, rather than by simply reproducing western orthodoxies.

Acknowledgements

We are grateful for discussions with, and support for field visits and translation from, Dr Rany Sam, Dr Ratha Seng (University of Battambang) and Mr Bunlee Khun (Managing Director, Khmer Education NGO [KHEN])

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Additional information

Notes on contributors

Jackie Ravet

Dr. Jackie Ravet is a Reader in Education at the University of Aberdeen. She is a lecturer in Inclusive Practice and has a specialism in autism and inclusion. She has written two books and published widely in this field.

Peter Mtika

Dr. Peter Mtika is a Senior Lecturer at the University of Aberdeen. He researches and publishes in the fields of teacher education and international education and development, and has undertaken studies in Malawi, Rwanda, Ghana and Cambodia.