Mentoring trainee teachers: how can mentors use research?

Abstract

This review explores ways in which the mentors of trainee teachers can use research as a means of questioning, understanding and improving their own practices. The first part presents an overview of empirical and theoretical research into mentoring relationships. The second part presents four ways in which mentors might engage with this literature: (1) generalisations, generated by research, can inform practice directly; (2) mentoring can be better understood by reference to theoretical frameworks derived from the literature; (3) in‐depth case studies can provide vicarious experiences of mentoring; and (4) mentors might use research methods to inquire into their own practice.

Keywords:

• research
• initial teacher education
• mentors
• mentoring practice

In a study of mentoring in initial teacher education (ITE), Young, Bullough, Draper, Smith, and Erickson (2005) wrote: ‘It is difficult to speak meaningfully about mentoring. Contradictions abound. Not surprisingly, champions of mentoring often speak glowingly of its promise, while mentoring studies, commonly case studies, point toward multiple and perplexing challenges.’ (p. 170). This passage resonated with the conclusions to a research review, in which Hawkey (1997) spoke of ‘the essentially idiosyncratic nature of mentoring’ (p. 332). Mentoring is idiosyncratic, says Hawkey, because each instance of mentorship is based on a unique relationship involving an extremely complex interplay of cognitive, affective and interpersonal factors. The views expressed in Young et al. (2005) and Hawkey (1997) are challenging for researchers and practitioners for, if ‘contradictions abound’ and mentoring is ‘essentially idiosyncratic’ it might be impossible for researchers to make worthwhile generalisations about mentoring in ITE, and practitioners might reasonably conclude that in mentoring, ‘anything goes’. Such a conclusion is unlikely to inspire improvements in mentoring quality.

This article explores the potential for research to influence ITE mentoring practice. The first section reviews a number of international, refereed studies into practical aspects of mentoring (in particular, how mentors and trainee teachers fulfil their roles in one‐to‐one relationships), examining the extent to which the research literature supports the view of mentoring as idiosyncratic and full of contradictions. The second section describes four ways in which mentors might engage with this literature as a means of questioning, understanding and improving their own practices.

Research literature concerning mentoring relationships

Mentoring relationships rarely live up to ideals

Several writers have related modern conceptions of mentoring to its mythological roots. Discussing Mentor's support of Telemachus, they have located the source of Mentor's helping in the older person's wisdom and greater experience of life. Thus Anderson and Shannon (1988), in a widely quoted passage, defined mentoring as:

a nurturing process in which a more skilled or more experienced person, serving as a role model, teaches, sponsors, encourages, counsels and befriends a less skilled or less experienced person for the purpose of promoting the latter's professional and/or personal development. Mentoring functions are carried out within the context of an ongoing, caring relationship between the mentor and the protegé. (p. 40)

Statements such as this are offered as definitions of mentoring, but they also describe an ideal which, as Young et al. (2005) suggest, is rarely realised in practice. Mentoring in ITE usually means that mentors entrust their class(es) to trainee teachers and take a supportive role as the trainees learn to teach. This situation can be uncomfortable for both parties – the mentor can find it difficult to hand the class over and the trainee can find learning to teach a difficult process. For trainee teachers, an ideal mentoring situation is one in which they are made to feel welcome, accepted, included and supported (Abell, Dillon, Hopkins, McInerney, & O'Brien, 1995; Maynard, 2000). Trainees hope for mentoring which, in the early stages at least, is positive, unthreatening and readily available (Booth, 1993; Bullough & Draper, 2004). They appreciate being given a clear sense of direction in terms of advice and ideas, with regular, timetabled meetings for feedback and discussion; they identify constructive feedback on their own teaching as the most important developmental activity and also appreciate discussing their lesson plans and observing their mentors teaching (Hobson, 2002).

According to mentors, the ideal mentor ‘demonstrates training, empowers students, has other roles …’ and has personal qualities, including the following list: ‘Not domineering, sympathetic, stimulated by new ideas, approachable, has students' confidence, good sense of humour, motivated, tactful, patient and tolerant, accepts own failings, shows humility committed to pupils, wishing to develop’ (Reid & Jones, 1997, p. 266). However, another report by the same researchers suggested that mentors had great difficulty in acting up to this image:

I would like to have an infinite amount of time and patience. I would like to be a better listener. I would like to be more open in my ideas. I would like to relate to people more rapidly and easily. I'd like to know more about my subject. I would like to be a better teacher. And myself as I am, on a lot of days, I am none of those things. I'm short of time, I'm crabby, I'm bad tempered, I'm not teaching well. (A mentor quoted in Jones et al., 1997, p. 256)

Similar difficulties were reported in Bullough and Draper (2004): mentors were expected to fulfil a variety of roles, within a demanding conception of the ‘proper’ mentor. Unable to live up to these expectations, they embraced an attitude of ‘cool professionalism’ towards their mentees, masking their true feelings about teaching and mentoring, often in order to protect them from stress.

Mentoring roles and functions

Various studies have investigated mentors' understandings of their roles. Elliott and Calderhead (1993) found that some mentors saw the trainee as being dependent on them, using phrases such as ‘a mother hen with her chick’. Others saw their roles as ‘a good listener’ or ‘a friend’ or ‘an organiser’, enabling mentees to complete the tasks set by the university. A pioneering work by Daloz (1986) described the complementary functions of the meta‐categories of support and challenge; several researchers have used this formulation to analyse mentoring. McNally and Martin (1998) found that most mentors either stressed their supportive roles (providing high support and low challenge), or had a strong sense of themselves as authorities, but were less able to engage with the needs of trainees (providing low support and high challenge). Nevertheless, some provided high support and high challenge, and the latter group was most successful in ensuring progress for their trainees.

In a large‐scale survey, Clarke and Jarvis‐Selinger (2005) reported that 52% of mentors had a nurturing perspective to their own teaching, while many others had a perspective that included nurturing. This perspective implies that ‘learning has a significant emotional component’, and that good teaching involves caring for students, helping them to reach their goals and supporting efforts as well as achievements (p. 67). The authors found this encouraging because of ‘the critical role that trust and care play in discussing a student teacher's suitability and success’ (p. 76). In contrast, Williams, Butt, Gray, Leach, Marr and Soares (1998) claimed that mentors saw themselves, not only supporting, but actively teaching – guiding, providing information, offering practical strategies, feedback on lessons and assessment. Describing the assessing aspect, Gay and Stephenson (1998) characterised mentors as ‘judge, jury and sometimes executioner rolled into one’ (p. 49) and found their supporting and encouraging function at odds with their role as assessors; similar tensions were found in Dart and Drake (1993). In a comparative study, Jones (2001) found such views expressed by German mentors (who had a relatively minor role as assessors) although most English mentors welcomed their (greater) assessment function as it brought them increased status and influence.

The role of feelings

Mentoring is suffused with feeling, although feelings are not always acknowledged. Trainees feel exposed and vulnerable, especially at the start of their placements (Elliott, 1995) and mentoring is more successful when the mentor can recognise and react appropriately to the trainee's changing state of mind. The importance of feelings is stressed by Daloz (1986) who, reviewing case studies, says: ‘The recognition that passion is central to learning and the capacity to provide emotional support when it is needed are hallmarks that distinguish the good mentor’ (p. 33). Mentors' sensitivity to trainees' feelings is explored in an interview study by Lopez‐Real, Stimpson and Bunton (2001), which found that mentors felt a particular need to be sensitive when discussing matters to do with their trainees' lack of presence, enthusiasm and commitment – this meant using indirect approaches to de‐personalise unwelcome messages and to ‘save face’. Maynard (2000) found mentors unwilling to hurt trainees' feelings, and reported that many mentors also felt vulnerable and in need of reassurance, too. Whilst many trainees found their mentors supportive, a significant number did not and, ‘where the mentor‐student relationship [was] unproductive or destructive, the consequence for students' sense of worth as a teacher and as a person, appeared catastrophic’ (Maynard, 2000, p. 29). The scale of such problems was investigated by Maguire (2001), who discovered that 43% of trainees on one course felt bullied by their mentors or other teachers during their school placements. This survey did not ask respondents to describe the nature of the bullying and Maguire (2001) acknowledged that ‘it might be possible to discount some trainees' perceptions of bullying’ but concluded nevertheless that ‘the reported levels are worryingly high’ (p. 107). Awaya, McEwan, Heyler, Linsky, Lum and Wakukawa (2003) suggested that relationships break down because either the mentor or the trainee is unwilling to commit to an equal relationship, for instance when mentors are too eager to assert their authority, and Graham (1999) described how one trainee renegotiated his power relationships with his mentor by making the issue an explicit focus for discussion.

One cause of emotional tension is that trainee teachers are in a transitional state, attempting both to ‘fit in’ to the school community and ‘be themselves’ (Maynard, 2000). A trainee in one study provided a vivid picture of how her mentor communicated the importance of fitting in: ‘At first, I tried suggesting some of my ideas and questioned certain things but, whenever I did, a tight, anxious expression would come on to her face and I came to see my ideas as an impertinence’ (Brooks & Sikes, 1997, p. 37). Maynard (2001) found that trainees sought the approval of their mentors and adopted their teaching styles and language use, without fully understanding their mentors' concepts. As a result, their concepts of teaching were often undeveloped ‘pseudoconcepts’ and their success at fitting in was somewhat superficial.

Theories of mentoring

Mentoring practices can be understood in relation to theories of mentoring and, among the theories developed in the literature, two are discussed more comprehensively than others. These theories of mentoring are rooted in theories of learning to teach: ‘learning by reflecting’ and ‘learning through apprenticeship’.

Learning by reflecting

This theory, that we learn by reflecting on our experiences to understand them better, has a long history. Zeichner and Liston (1996) drew on the work of Dewey (1933), Schön (1983, 1987) and others, to present five traditions of reflection: ‘the academic tradition’ (in which reflection is focused on subject matter); ‘the social efficiency tradition’ (focused on the practical realisation of educational theory); ‘the developmentalist tradition’ (focused on learner development); ‘the social reconstructivist tradition’ (focused on issues of justice and democracy); and ‘the generic tradition’ (in which reflection is an end in itself). Zeichner and Liston (1996) rejected the latter, but saw the others as fruitful ways of framing the reflective process. For them, this was essentially a matter of relating teaching in classrooms to different types of aims which are generated by the world outside the classroom.

For some writers, the practice of counselling provides a suitable model for encouraging reflection. For example, Martin (1995) suggested that mentoring meetings can ‘enable the student to reflect deeply on their experience of teaching, and to arrive largely at their own conclusions’ (p. 9). In contrast, Korthagen and Vasalos (2005) distinguished between mentoring, which involves professional development, and counselling, which has a therapeutic purpose. They nevertheless presented reflection as an inward journey, particularly in the case of ‘core reflection’ which happens when a trainee has a problem which cannot be solved simply. In such cases, they suggested that trainees be encouraged to examine specific, problematic events in order to articulate their ‘ideal situation’, and to examine the ‘limiting factors’ in themselves which prevent this ideal from being realised. Levels of reflection are likened to an onion, with behaviours at the outer edge and, progressing inwards, the levels of competences, beliefs, identity and mission. Exploring these levels, mentors might encourage trainees to realise that they possess certain ‘core qualities’ (Ofman, 2000) that can be brought to bear on the situation. Examples include empathy, flexibility, sensitivity and courage, precise qualities varying according to the individual. Finally, trainees are encouraged to activate their core qualities in order to plan new, improved behaviours.

Learning through apprenticeship

The theory of learning by reflecting has been challenged by those who view learning to teach as an apprenticeship. For example, Brown and McIntyre's (1993) empirically‐based work presented teacher thinking as largely a matter of craft knowledge: ‘Experienced teachers are analogous to “master craftsmen” … in school‐based components of their pre‐service education, student‐teachers should learn through gaining access to the “craft knowledge” of experienced teachers' (p. 12). In characterising teaching as a ‘craft’, Brown and McIntyre drew on Lortie's (1975) notion that ‘craft is work in which experience improves performance’ and it ‘cannot be learned in weeks or even months’ (Brown & McIntyre, 1993, p. 18). They reported on sixteen cases of expert teachers, presenting a model in which teachers undertake routine actions in pursuit of two types of goal: gaining and maintaining normal desirable states of pupil activity, and achieving pupil progress. In pursuit of these goals, teachers do not reflect on possible alternative forms of action; rather, ‘experienced teachers' effectiveness was dependent on a fluency of action which would be possible only if the action was spontaneous, largely automatic, and based on only very limited conscious examination of available options’ (p. 107). This view of teaching is at the heart of the apprenticeship theory, in which trainees learn by observing mentors and by imitating their teaching practices. The mentor is a major agent for the trainee's development, advising, directing and offering ‘practical tips’.

Similarly, Van Manen (1995) suggested that learning to teach is a matter of acquiring a type of knowledge that, drawing on Herbart (1776–1841), he called ‘pedagogical tact’. Like Brown and McIntyre (1993) Van Manen found that Schön's notion of reflecting in action does not describe the essential immediacy of decision making in the classroom. Acquiring pedagogical tact (understood as ‘a form of practical knowledge that…becomes real in the very act of teaching’ (p. 45)), teachers act from a morally principled position of tact which is understood by ‘the whole embodied being of the person’ (p. 36). This means that:

by observing and imitating how the teacher animates the students, walks around the room, uses the blackboard, and so forth, the student teacher learns with his or her body, as it were, how to feel confident in this room, with these students. This ‘confidence’ is not some kind of affective quality that makes teaching easier, rather this confidence is the active knowledge itself, the tact of knowing what to do or not to do, what to say or not to say. (p. 47)

The ‘learning through apprenticeship’ theory has been criticised: Brooks and Sikes (1997) suggested that, whilst it might be useful for ‘passing on lower‐order craft skills’ (p. 18) it is not suitable for education in the more intellectually demanding professions, and Shaw (1992) warned that ‘teacher training would be very flat if it were reduced to on‐the‐job apprenticeship’ (p. 58).

Theories in practice

At the heart of the reflective/apprenticeship distinction is the issue of whether the mentor offers advice (a directive approach), or encourages reflection (an inquiry‐oriented approach). Examples of both approaches are found in the research literature. Zeichner et al. (1988) found that mentors tended to use a directive approach, even when they claimed to espouse inquiry as a means of development. Ben‐Peretz and Rumney (1991) reported similar findings: mentors transmitting their experience of successful teaching practices in an authoritative way, and trainees being mostly passive. Dunn and Taylor (1993) analysed the advice given by mentors to trainees and found that the majority of the advice (55%) was given ‘straight’, without explanation. In contrast, Strong and Baron (2004) found that mentors rarely gave direct advice, preferring ‘indirect suggestions’ in which the advice was (a) tempered with an expression implying tentativeness (such as ‘perhaps’ or ‘maybe’); (b) phrased as a question; (c) presented as an idea that had come from elsewhere; or, occasionally, (d) building on something said by the trainee. Surprised by their findings, the researchers suggested that they might be explained by the particular philosophy of the ITE program and the ‘cognitive coaching’ model of mentoring with which it was associated.

According to Zanting, Verloop and Vermunt (2003), trainees believed that they could access mentors' practical knowledge by observing them teach, by asking questions about the observed lessons, and by discussing their own lessons. However, these beliefs were ill‐founded because the mentors rarely discussed their reasons for their actions unless specifically asked to do so, for instance, by being asked ‘why’ questions or by discussing video recordings of their lessons. Haggarty (1995) reported similar findings: while mentors were able to talk about their practice, they were less successful in talking about the practicability concerns that underpinned their own decision‐making. Mentors tended to dominate feedbacks (a finding echoed by Martin, 1995) to draw almost exclusively on their own experience of teaching, and to promote the view that implementing good practice was unproblematic. Areas of disagreement were ignored, in an ethic of politeness.

With the exception of Strong and Baron (2004), the studies reviewed above showed apprenticeship‐like approaches to mentoring. However, other studies have revealed reflective practice. John and Gilchrist (1999) analysed feedbacks from a single, experienced mentor with two different trainees, categorising mentor talk as suggesting, questioning, supporting, directing and silence, and analysing two mentoring meetings with different trainees. In the first, the mentor questioned as frequently as she gave suggestions, whereas in the second, there were twice as many suggestions as questions. Drawing on this and other evidence, the authors concluded that the mentor adopted a reflective approach when appropriate, adapting her mentoring to the trainees' needs. In a study of a five‐month mentoring relationship, Stanulis (1994) reported that the mentor constantly questioned her own knowledge, values and beliefs, within a philosophical framework of seeing teaching as problematic. Rather than giving advice, she aimed to present wide‐ranging questions about subject matter, learners, teacher knowledge and teaching environment. Stanulis (1994) described the mentoring as, ‘sharing her wisdom without telling answers’ (p. 31). In another single‐case study, Hawkey (1998) found that the mentor prompted the trainee's thinking (e.g. by asking questions) nearly as often as she gave advice. In this instance the mentoring was less effective for, despite demonstrating a range of skills such as ‘relationship building, empathy, providing advice, support and challenge’ the mentor failed to recognise the gap between her perspective, as an experienced teacher, and that of the trainee, so their conversation became ‘almost two parallel monologues’, in which the trainee talked about planning and classroom management while the mentor talked more about values in education.

Although the ‘learning by reflecting’ and ‘learning through apprenticeship’ theories are often presented in opposition to each other (e.g. Fish, 1995), two authors suggest that mentors might usefully alter their mentoring approach, starting with apprenticeship‐style coaching methods and moving towards a reflective stance (Furlong & Maynard, 1995; Maynard & Furlong, 1993). Williams et al. (1998) found no evidence that this happened in practice; rather, ‘the style of interaction between mentors and students appeared to remain constant’ (p. 237). However, Clarke (1995) found that, in watching videos of their mentoring, mentors were surprised by how little they allowed their trainees to contribute actively to the discussions. Consequently they switched their emphasis from telling to enquiring and were more able to encourage reflection when they (a) presented a multiplicity of perspectives on teaching; (b) examined two or three days of the trainee's teaching in depth; (c) prompted trainees to theorise about their teaching practices; and (d) encouraged them to entertain uncertainty. Similarly, Orland (2001) analysed the ways in which one beginning mentor changed her mentoring approach: starting by imparting her convictions about teaching, then experiencing dissatisfaction and ‘a sense of defeat’ (p. 82) which she attributed to problems connected with the system for mentoring, and finally, questioning her right to ‘impose her world view’ on trainees (p. 83). Orland (2001) reported that the mentor's understanding of mentoring had changed, having ‘more to do with where the person [i.e. the trainee] is at’ (p. 85) and concluded that ‘learning to become a mentor … does not “emerge” naturally from being a good teacher of children’ (p. 75).

The content of mentoring meetings

The subject matter, discussed in mentoring meetings, can also be related to the mentoring approach. In an apprenticeship approach, mentoring conversations are largely concerned with technical matters of teaching, whereas a reflective approach is more likely to contain discussion in which such matters are related, either to their wider contexts, including educational theories, or to the inner beliefs of the trainee. Booth (1993) found that trainees were mostly concerned with subject‐specific teaching and classroom management and control. Yourn (2000) reported that trainees also expressed concern about having adequate teaching materials and of failing the requirements of the placement. In a questionnaire survey of ninety mentors, Wright and Bottery (1997) found that they considered practical matters such as ‘planning and providing a clear focus for students' lessons’ and ‘emphasising classroom management’ to be overwhelmingly more important than matters to do with wider professional issues, such as ‘discussing the relationship between schools and society’ or ‘considering educational theory’. These studies suggest that the practical business of teaching and classroom management tend to dominate conversations between mentors and their trainees because such matters are major concerns of both parties. The evidence further suggests that mentors rarely relate practice to theory, perhaps because the mentors' own theoretical knowledge has become internalised to the point of being tacit (Eraut, 2000). However, Jones, Reid and Bevins (1997), in an interview study, found that mentors regretted that they were too unaware of current educational theory to discuss it with their trainees. And, in a survey of teachers, some of whom were mentors and some not, Reid (1999) found that, while all the teachers recognised a need for theory in ITE, those who were mentors felt this need more acutely, and were also concerned about their inability to reflect on their own practice. As a result, ‘they are unable to demonstrate to the trainees in their care the model of the reflective practitioner’ (Reid, 1999, p. 254). A related issue was explored by Edwards and Protheroe (2004): mentoring meetings focused largely on descriptions of observed events, in order ‘to ensure pupil progress through the planned curriculum’ (p. 194). Rather than attending to their trainees' developmental needs as teachers, the mentors focused on training them to teach the curriculum because ‘the need to ensure that pupils proceed apace through the curriculum was a constant and important responsibility’ (p. 184).

Four ways in which mentors might use research

The following section examines ways in which mentors might engage with the research, reviewed above, either individually or by way of professional networks or mentor training. The interface, between educational research and educational practice, has come under renewed scrutiny recently and, although some of this scrutiny is philosophical, dealing with issues such as whether randomised, controlled trials or action research are more likely to lead to actionable findings (see, for example, Elliott, 2001; Robinson & Norris, 2001) there are also some empirical studies on how teachers use research. For example, Ratcliffe, Bartholomew, Hames, Hind, Leach, Millar, and Osborne (2005), studying science educators, found that ‘educational research can, should and does influence practice’ (p. 183): teachers are influenced by research in direct ways, such as consciously basing teaching approaches on research findings, and, more frequently, by mediated or indirect ways, such as using teaching materials which have been informed by research.

Generalisations, generated by research, can inform practice directly

Although practitioners might wish for unambiguous findings that (to paraphrase Hargreaves, 1997) if mentors do x rather than y there will be a significant and enduring improvement in their trainees, anyone who approaches the literature with this hope is likely to be disappointed. There is little research evidence that one approach to mentoring is necessarily more successful than another; overall, the story is one of contradictions (Young et al., 2005). For example, mentors perceive their roles in different ways, emphasising aspects to do with listening, enabling, organising, trouble‐shooting, supporting or teaching, acting as a friend, a colleague or a parent‐figure. Some mentors see challenging as important; for others, support is crucial. Some mentors tend to give advice whilst others employ a tentative approach.

However, some findings are reasonably consistent across two or more studies. Mentoring is effective in developing trainees' teaching skills, although it often fails to live up to ideals. The mentor/trainee relationship is central to the process and trainees hope to feel welcome, accepted, included and supported by mentors. Mentors broadly share these expectations but, when they are not met and relationships break down, the results are perceived as painful. Mentoring meetings are largely concerned with practical matters of teaching and rarely deal with educational theory.

It therefore appears that ITE mentoring is idiosyncratic, but not entirely so. Furthermore, there is some evidence that research has influenced practice, perhaps through mentor development activities, including training. For, although early studies into ITE mentoring uncovered primarily directive approaches (Ben‐Peretz & Rumney, 1991; Zeichner, Liston, Mahlios, & Gomez 1998). Strong and Baron (2004) found that mentors were very rarely directive. It is possible that the move away from directive practice was prompted in part by research and, if so, we can expect research to produce further generalisations which lead to developments in practice.

Mentoring can be better understood by reference to theoretical frameworks

Hawkey (1997), in addition to the conclusions previously quoted, acknowledged that research ‘has resulted in frameworks for a better understanding of mentoring’ (p. 332). Such frameworks include ideals, contrasting polarities and theories.

Ideals are presented as desirable aims. For instance, Stanulis and Russell (2000) suggested that trust and communication are ‘integral components’ in mentoring, and posited some means which might encourage movement towards such ideals. These include ‘all participants revealing their vulnerabilities for the sake of learning’ and mentors, ‘acknowledging the values and perspectives that they bring to the role as mentor’ (p. 78). Exploring their mentoring in the light of these ideals, mentors might consider, with their trainees, the ways in which they engender trust and communication in their relationship, what factors limit movement towards such ideals and how these limiting factors might be overcome.

Contrasting polarities are presented as mutually exclusive concepts. For example, Zeichner et al. (1988) spoke of ‘directive’ and ‘enquiry‐oriented’ approaches; concepts that were further developed in subsequent studies. Although mentoring is sometimes directive and sometimes enquiry‐oriented, it cannot be both things simultaneously; these polarities therefore provide mentors with a means for categorising certain aspects of their practice. Mentors might approach this framework by attempting to understand the differences between ‘directive’ and ‘enquiry‐oriented’. They might use these concepts to examine their own beliefs about mentoring, in the light of their previous educational experiences. They might then examine their practice, ultimately changing their mentoring in the light of these contrasting polarities.

Theories can also illuminate practical aspects of mentoring for, as Daloz (1986) showed, mentors can use theories of adult learning to better understand their mentees. Within the ITE mentoring literature, Korthagen and Vasalos (2005) used a theory drawn from anthropology to argue that externally visible behaviours and competences are closely related to inner beliefs, identity and mission. Illustrating how this theory might be applied to mentoring, they described a trainee who is unable to manage pupils' poor behaviour. Although such a trainee's mentoring might contain only advice, perhaps to do with altering the use of voice or posture, Korthagen and Vasalos (2005) suggested that it might be better if she were encouraged to consider her beliefs about herself, or her sense of her own identity as a teacher. A mentor might engage with the practical implications of this theory by asking: ‘Can my trainee simply alter certain behaviours or is the cause of the problems more deeply rooted?’ If the latter is the case, the mentor might employ the means suggested by Korthagen and Vasalos (2005) to engage the trainee in ‘core reflection’.

In‐depth descriptions can provide vicarious experiences of mentoring

Although the frameworks, described above, are essentially abstract, more concrete examples of mentoring are presented in case studies. Simons (1996) described how we can be informed by case study research, arguing that ‘By studying the uniqueness of the particular, we come to understand the universal’ (p. 231). She quoted from Rollo May's (1994) description of a Cezanne painting of a tree to illustrate this point:

The concrete tree Cezanne looked at is formed into the essence of tree. However original and unrepeatable his vision is, it is still a vision of all trees triggered by his encounter with the particular one.… I can say without exaggeration that I never really saw a tree until I had seen and absorbed Cezanne's paintings of them. (cited in Simons, 1996, p. 236)

Simons (1996) argued that, in the same way as visionary artworks change the way we see the world, so case studies have potential to challenge the way in which their readers conceptualise phenomena that might otherwise be taken for granted. Because of the intimate nature of mentoring, it is difficult for mentors to learn by observing other mentors, but case studies can help them understand their own experiences of mentoring in the light of other people's. The following section describes one case study and suggests ways in which mentors might so use it.

Graham (1999) focused on a 21‐year‐old trainee, ‘Pete’, and his mentor ‘Bob’. Pete was described as ‘vocal … worked hard, complained hard, stirred things up … tended to be rather conservative in his views of education’. ‘Genuinely absorbed by the subject of teaching’ he admired teachers who ‘pushed every kid … didn't mickey mouse … wanted you to be as good as you could be’ – teachers who were ‘male … highly competitive … powerful’ (pp. 527–528). In contrast, Bob was described as ‘quiet, even mild‐mannered’ (p. 532), valuing the ability ‘to really be curious in the best sense of being a learner’ and saying that ‘if you're not floundering a little bit, all your life, you've probably drawn closure too quickly on things’ (p. 530). Initially Pete was ‘not pleased’ by Bob's teaching, complaining that his students created high levels of noise and ‘do what they want’ while Bob's approach was ‘they probably don't know what to write. You've got to sit down and talk to them about it,’ (pp 530–531). Pete compared Bob with ‘Jane’, another mentor, seeing them ‘at the very ends of the teaching philosophy spectrum’. Whereas Bob was ‘student‐centred’, Jane was ‘teacher‐centred’, as Pete wished to be. As he developed, he came to see that that Jane's approach did not necessarily lead to better behaviour and learning and he saw that Bob's approach to teaching had to do with ‘trying to observe kids in action … setting up learning situations where the teachers were facilitators’ (p. 533). Pete wanted to teach traditional grammar and, despite the fact that Bob ‘was familiar with research on the negligible effect of formal grammar study on writing improvement’ they jointly planned teaching and ‘came up with [activities] that were student‐centred, even if they were teacher‐directed’ (p. 543).

This summary presents only a part of what Graham (1999) had to say, much of which was about the power relationships between the mentor and trainee. Although the study described a unique relationship, its story has universal elements. Pete had clear views of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ teaching, and used these to judge his mentors' teaching. Initially he understood teaching in terms of opposites: ‘student‐centred’ (bad) being opposed to ‘teacher‐centred’ (good). He started to understand teaching in more complex and finely differentiated terms when he became involved in it himself, and when he experienced that his favoured approach did not always work. Mentors might use this study to explore the suggestion that trainees have pre‐conceived ideas about teaching, which they use to judge the quality of others' teaching. Because powerful means of changing are to do with being involved in teaching and discovering that some approaches do not work, mentors might consider the boundaries they would set, which would allow trainees to experience such learning. They might use Graham (1999) to consider the role of gender in mentoring; they might also consider the extent to which they would allow a trainee to employ teaching methods (such as formal grammar teaching) that they would not use themselves. The study might help them to explore the power differentials that exist between them and their trainees, and they might consider the extent to which they wish to break down these differentials.

Mentors might use research methods to inquire into their own practice

Research reports can suggest methods that mentors might use to investigate their own practice. In the studies reviewed above, data collection methods included sound and video recordings of mentoring meetings; either the recordings themselves, or transcriptions served as a focus for discussions. (See Clarke, 1995; Zanting et al., 2003.) Research data included written accounts such as journals, questionnaires, email communications and documents such as lesson observation forms. Researchers used individual and group interviews, while Carroll (2005) investigated a mentor teacher study group. Some researchers collected all possible data, others focused only on certain data – for example, analysing critical incidents in great detail. Various analytical methods have been employed; often researchers have allowed analytical categories to emerge from the data. Although some researchers embarked on their enquiries with clear research questions, for others, such questions came into sharper focus during the research process. And, although most research in ITE mentoring was qualitative, there were also some quantitative studies (Clarke & Jarvis‐Selinger, 2005; Wright & Bottery, 1997).

Of course mentors can inquire into their own practice without using research methods. However, Ratcliffe et al. (2005) found that few teachers adopt a systematic approach to evaluating their own practice, and many have a limited understanding of social research processes, or of how research findings might be judged. As a result they ‘set “research” on a pedestal’ (p. 182) viewing it as a completely different activity from anything they might do themselves. Nevertheless, ‘those teachers with first hand experience of a research culture seem better able to view professional practice through an “evidence‐informed” lens, bringing their understanding of research to bear if their professional context allows’ (p. 183).

This notion – that engaging with research provides a new way of thinking – accords with my own experience. When I was a teacher (to echo St. Paul) I thought like a teacher, I acted like a teacher, I reasoned like a teacher. When I became a researcher I slowly and quite painfully developed another way of thinking. As a teacher, I was active in my classrooms. I focused on improvement, on the future. Concerned with ‘what works’, my theoretical framework was largely pragmatic, and I trusted my intuitive understanding of ‘what works’. As a researcher I learned to be a spectator, to observe, rather than to act. I became interested in understanding phenomena which were essentially in the past – they had already occurred. Freed from the necessity of being pragmatic, I acquired a greater range of theoretical frameworks and, although I still value my intuitions, I hope I am critical, and perhaps even sceptical about what these intuitions tell me, and I now value more what is counter‐intuitive. Being able to think as a researcher might not, in itself, have improved my teaching but it has provided me with sharper, more sophisticated ways of thinking about my teaching.

Concluding remarks

Recently, at an international gathering of teacher‐mentors and researchers, I asked my audience to draw two pictures, a teacher and a researcher, because I wanted them to think about the differences between them. Mostly, I think the exercise failed because the pictures (people in an educational institution surrounded by children, books and computers) were too similar. Perhaps the drawing exercise was inherently unhelpful but perhaps also my audience was not completely aware of some important difference between teaching and researching. A lack of such awareness might hinder mentors from understanding research reports; however, by using research methods to explore and question their own practice, I believe that teacher‐mentors might, as Ratcliffe et al. (2005) suggest, develop a wider range of possible ways of thinking, leading to a greater understanding of their own practice, and also of the research literature.

Notes on contributor

Tim Cain has taught music to pupils from 5–19. He has been head of music in two comprehensive schools and is currently lectorer in Education at the University of Southampton. His publications include Keynote: Music to GCSE and Fanfare: Music to KS2, both published by Cambridge University Press. His research interests include teacher education, mentoring and practitioner research.