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Keywords: skills, personal development planning, pro gress files, reflection

The experience of one higher education institution

Introduction

The UK higher education sector is currently committed to each higher education institution (HEI) implementing a system of progress files for students on all taught courses. The impetus for this came from the Dearing Report in 1997 (see recommendation 20 of the National Inquiry into Higher Education 1997 [the 'Dearing Report']). Following its endorsement by Government, the representative bodies within higher education -the Quality Assurance Agency, Universities UK (then CVCP), Universities Scotland (then CoSHEP) and the Standing Conference of Principals -issued a joint statement, in May 2000, directing all HE institutions to establish a system of progress files (Universities UK, 2000). This provides that, by 2005-6, all students on all taught courses will have the opportunity to use a progress file.

active learning in higher education

What are progress files?

Progress files are a central feature of Personal Development Planning (PDP). As set out in the Joint Statement, PDP aims to encourage each student to reflect upon the skills necessary to be an effective learner:

The primary objective for personal development planning is to improve the capacity of individuals to understand what and how they are learning and to review, plan and take responsibility for their own learning. (Universities UK, 2000: para 29) PDP requires HE institutions to establish policies and structures that provide guidance and support for their students, so that they become more effective, independent and confident learners. The essential characteristic that PDP seeks to develop in students is reflection, whereby students are able to identify and review their own learning skills constructively, including recognition of where they might have a 'skills deficiency' and to take steps to address this. As the Joint Statement puts it: PDP results in . . . enhanced self awareness of strengths and weaknesses and directions for change. The process is intended to help individuals understand the value added through learning that is above and beyond attainment in the subjects they have studied. (Universities UK, 2000: para 32)

A progress file is one of the most important mechanisms for PDP. A progress file is 'owned' by the learner. It involves putting together evidence showing how the student has identified their learning needs, along with an audit of their learning skills and, over the period of study, the ways that they have developed and enhanced these skills. Progress files are also seen as increasing the employability of graduates as the skills they seek to develop, such as teamwork skills, effective communication, both in writing and verbally, and self motivation, are also skills that are highly valued in the workplace. Thus, the Joint Statement defines a progress file as: . . . an individual's personal record of learning and achievements, progress reviews and plans. These records are used to clarify personal goals and provide a resource from which material is selected to produce concise personal statements (e.g. CVs and application forms) required by employers and admission tutors. (Universities UK, 2000: para 5) However, some advocates of PDP express a note of caution about the motivation behind both the Dearing Report's recommendation and the Government's position. Jackson, for example, states:

Let us remind ourselves why PDP is being introduced. It is because PDP has the potential to improve student capacities to learn through reflection and experience [and thereby] to improve student learning. This was not the way the NCIHE [i.e. Dearing] recommendation to higher education was framed, or the government's response to the recommendation. Both were framed in the mindset of public information for employers -pieces of paper on which were written what students knew and could do. The policy developers, and the people who cared enough about policy to contribute to its shaping, shifted the emphasis from information product to learning process [based on the idea] that it is inherently good for a human being to reflect on his or her experience of life and to learn and grow from that experience. (Jackson, 2001b: 4-5)

Implementing progress files: General comments

The Joint Statement directs all HEIs to provide '. . . a structured and supported process' to assist learners to reflect on their own learning experience and, where necessary, take steps to improve their performance. Crucially, however, no rigidly prescriptive regime is advocated, nor is there any type of 'regulatory driver' agency to monitor compliance. Rather, individual HEIs are required to develop their own approaches. As Jackson states:

Policy is deliberately formulated to encourage people and institutions to think for themselves to avoid the compliance culture that we seem to be slipping into. It requires interpretation, discussion and reasoned argument to make it work. . . . It was clear early in developing policy for the Progress File that the apparently simple recommendations of the NCIHE [i.e. Dearing] Report have enormous ramifications for change. We could have made it easier for ourselves by agreeing to adopt a standard process with a standard product. But quite apart from the institutional and professional autonomy issues this raises we know that the potential to support and promote student (and staff) learning is far greater if we can design PDP-type processes for the different contexts of learning. . . . So the policy framework is geared to encouraging diversity and customisation. (Jackson, 2001b: 6-7) One concern with a policy geared towards each HEI developing its own process is that some may fail to engage in the process successfully. In fact, Jackson is quite explicit about this potential outcome:

The introduction of Personal Development Planning (PDP) in higher education is a unique event in the history of UK HE as it is seeking pervasive and significant change in academic and institutional practices without (so far) additional resources and without a regulatory driver. Without such drivers the take-up of PDP is dependent on voluntary actions by institutions and individuals. Such actions will only occur if people believe that PDP will support the primary goals of quality enhancement in higher education -to improve students' learning and their learning experience, and to improve the responsiveness of HE to the needs and interests of society. . . . Only time will tell whether the enterprise will be . . . successful but what is clear is that it will not be successful if we cannot create the conditions that will support and facilitate the necessary changes. (Jackson, 2001b: 1)

Implementing a system of progress files: the experience of one institution

In November 2001, the writer was appointed as progress files tutor to develop progress files within the University of Glamorgan. From November 2001 to the summer of 2003, a number of steps were taken towards achieving the above objective.

The first step was to take an audit of existing practice within the University in respect of PDP and the use of progress files, student portfolios, reflective logs, etc. along with identifying examples of good practice in respect of the development of skills by learners. This revealed a number of examples of good practice within the University's eight teaching schools. Some developments had been stimulated by the demands of professional bodies, such as in nursing, while others had been developed by small teams of committed lecturers, as was the case in the Business School.

The audit also identified a number of enthusiastic academic staff who could act as 'champions' of PDP and progress files within the teaching schools. Further 'champions' emerged following staff development workshops to explain and promote PDP and progress files.

A Progress Files Steering Group was established to advise on issues surrounding progress files implementation. This Group consists of approximately 20 individuals. Most are academic staff who might be termed 'enthusiasts' (and are current or potential 'champions' as referred to above), but its membership also includes a representative of the University's Careers Service, the Student Union's sabbatical officer for education and welfare and the manager of the University's IT-based student record system.

Following a review of the literature on progress files, along with visits to other HEIs and attendance at a number of conferences on PDP and progress files and some tentative early attempts at using progress files with students, a draft University policy on the development of progress files was produced. Its discussion, at various University fora, led to its revision and the final draft was endorsed as official University policy in the spring of 2003.

A crucial part of the University's policy is the progressive 'rolling out' of progress files over the period to 2005-6. Consequently, in the academic year 2002-3, a number of 'pilot studies' were established where each student on a chosen programme of study used a progress file. Harnessing existing good practice and the enthusiasm of a number of key 'champions', 14 such pilot studies were established. The number of students involved in these pilot studies ranged from over 300 on the pre-degree Foundation Studies programme to just four studying on a franchised HNC programme at a local FE College.

The progress file that has been adopted by the University is paper based. The potential for an IT-based regime had to be left for future consideration as the University is currently involved in a radical change in its computerized student administration records.

It is necessary at this stage to highlight an important development within the University of Glamorgan that has had a major inhibiting factor on the promotion of progress files. In the previous two years, all University programmes had been revalidated, as the institution abandoned semesters and reverted back to year-long modules. This limited opportunities to embed progress files in the curriculum. Nevertheless, it has proved possible to build on existing pockets of good practice (e.g. in the Business School), while the work of one enthusiastic lecturer saw PDP embedded into the first year undergraduate psychology programme during the academic year 2002-3. However, the limited opportunities to entrench PDP and progress files within curriculum delivery and assessment meant that the main focus was on the tutor system. In most pilot studies, therefore, the system of progress tutors, whereby a tutor provides advice and support to students, has been the framework within which the use of progress files by students has been promoted although, as outlined later, this approach has had to be amended for some of the pilot studies, in light of difficulties that arose.

Problems and some suggested solutions

The implementation of a system of progress files in a modern higher education institution is a complicated process. The rest of this article explores two of the main issues that need to be addressed in implementing progress files and outlines how they have been approached in one HEI. The first relates to the objectives of PDP, whilst the second concerns the crucial matter of resourcing the use of progress files.

i) PDP: what is being developed?

There are two aspects to consider when examining what PDP, via the use of progress files and in other ways, is seeking to develop. The first focuses on the so-called 'skills agenda', the second, on PDP's wider role in promoting reflection.

In respect of skills development, much of the literature on PDP and progress files emphasizes two sets of skills -those that will improve the ability of learners to study more effectively and 'employability' or 'workbased' skills. Of the latter, the HE sector has increasingly been informed by employers that graduates tend to lack competence in such skills. The use of progress files, as a central feature of PDP, is seen as a major mechanism for addressing this. In fact, as previously mentioned, the above two sets of skills do substantially overlap, in that many of the skills that facilitate successful learning are also valuable workplace skills. Effective communication, both verbal and written, numeracy, the ability to work with others and to reflect on one's performance enhance work-related performance and effectiveness in HE learning. Despite this, there has been some concern, as discussed earlier (Jackson, 2001b: 4-5), that the Dearing Report and the Government place undue importance on developing workplace skills.

Another issue in respect of the 'skills agenda' is that there is no consensus as to the set of skills most appropriate for HE students to acquire in order to improve both their learning performance and subsequent employability. Whilst the Qualifications and Curriculum Authority (QCA) has developed a nationally agreed system of Key Skills in six areas -communication, application of number, information technology, working with others, improving own learning performance and problem solving (Qualifications and Curriculum Authority, 2002) -HEIs have not, by and large, taken these as a framework for skills development. Instead, there has been a plurality of approaches adopted: Some Higher Education Institutions (HEIs) . . . are using the QCA key skill unit specifications [but m]any other HEIs [are] not. . . . There is no single picture of uniform development or implementation. (Gillespie, 2002) The trend towards using a range of 'home grown' specifications has been facilitated by the development of subject 'benchmark statements'. Promoted by the Quality Assurance Agency, each of these statements has been developed by a team of leading subject specialists, e.g. in history, accountancy, law, and sets out what a graduate in that subject is expected to have acquired on completion of a degree programme (Quality Assurance Agency, 2002). At the time of writing (second half of 2003) there are 47 such subject benchmark statements. Not surprisingly, there is substantial variation between the statements on the skills that graduates in the various subject specialisms are expected to acquire. Understandably, individual HE departments are likely to be heavily influenced by the appropriate subject benchmark statement.

The University of Glamorgan's approach to the skills agenda has been to embrace a set of nationally recognized skills that are well established within the HE sector, namely the EdExcel Key Skills. Despite the name, these differ from the QCA Key Skills, although there is a substantial degree of overlap. EdExcel has the following set of seven Key Skills: managing and developing self; working with and relating to others; communicating; managing tasks and problem solving; applying numeracy; applying technology; applying design and creativity. One of the merits of using this set of skills is that, in a post-1992 university, many staff are familiar with them, as they constitute the 'common skills' that are an integral part of the assessment regime on HND and HNC programmes. The EdExcel Key Skills have, consequently, been the skills upon which the University's promotion of PDP, via the use of progress files, has been based although, in some of the pilot studies, e.g. on the accountancy degree, these have been hybridized with the skills contained in the relevant QAA subject benchmark statement.

The second important issue in respect of what PDP seeks to develop is that its role is not restricted to the development of skills. The key to PDP, as previously mentioned, is reflection and, as Hinett highlights:

Reflection is not restricted to skills development, but can also be used as a tool to support understanding of a particular subject area. . . . Put simply, reflection is about maximising deep and minimising surface approaches to learning. Reflection is a way of getting students to realise that learning is about drawing on life experiences, not just something that takes place in the classroom. It enables a student to think about what and how they learn and to understand that this impacts on how well they do. (Hinett, 2003: 21, 6) In other words, reflection, via the use of a progress file (and in other ways), can facilitate a learner's improved knowledge and understanding of the subject area of their chosen programme of study. Those in higher education who are sceptical about the 'skills agenda' may, therefore, be prepared to embrace PDP and progress files by focusing on their role in enhancing learners' knowledge of the subject matter of their programme of study.

ii) Resourcing progress files

This would appear to be the major issue in respect of successfully implementing a system of progress files, as it will require many academic staff within HEIs to engage in the operational process. Yet, when made aware of progress files, staff attitudes invariably range from enthusiasm through ambivalence to outright hostility. Negative attitudes are likely to increase if staff involvement in this process is seen as imposing an additional burden on busy academics who, in the last decade or so, have had to deal, inter alia, with the additional responsibilities attendant on the move to a system of mass higher education. However, unless the issue of 'winning the hearts and minds of those who will be responsible for implementing and using [progress files]' (Jackson, 2001a: 4) is addressed, then progress files are unlikely to be successfully implemented within a HEI and, as Ross comments, 'if a . . . burdensome system is imposed from above, it will be resisted by staff' (Ross, 2001: 3). This dilemma has been approached, in the University of Glamorgan, in a couple of ways. First, the initial strategy was to establish a small number of progress file 'pilot studies', thereby making a wide range of academic staff in each school familiar with progress files, even if not directly involved. It is hoped that this will produce a more sympathetic approach from staff as progress files are 'rolled out' throughout the University in forthcoming years.

Secondly, as previously mentioned, most of the pilot studies operated progress files via the progress tutor system. Tutors periodically met each student on a one-to-one basis, for a 20-30 minute period, with the student having previously compiled evidence in their progress file. Discussion centred on the student's progress, both in their studies generally and, in particular, in respect of the seven Key Skills. While this increased the amount of staff time absorbed by the tutor system, largely because the student/tutor meetings tended to be around double the length than had previously prevailed, no additional resources were made available for this. On most of the pilot studies, therefore, use was made of 'champions', those lecturers who saw the benefits of PDP and the use of progress files and were thus prepared to go the 'extra mile'.

However, for two pilot studies -Foundation Studies, with over 300 students, and the first year undergraduate law programme, with 120 students -a radically different approach had to be adopted. At the beginning of the academic year in September 2002, it soon became apparent that, for a variety of reasons, there would be no tutor support for running progress files. This meant that either these pilot studies would not run or an alternative approach would need to be found. In both cases, however, the University progress files tutor was teaching on a module on the programme. This provided the opportunity for these students to use progress files. At approximately six-week intervals, the tutor-student meetings were replicated during workshops in the aforementioned modules, with students divided into pairs and, in turn, role playing the tutor's role in a 'progress file interview'. Whilst providing the opportunity for students on these programmes to use progress files, this approach, borne out of necessity, was originally seen as clearly inferior to using staff as tutors. Interestingly, however, this assumption has, partly, been challenged in student feedback. In over 120 returned questionnaires from students on these two programmes, there was overwhelming recognition of the value of progress files in PDP, with no identifiable difference in support than for students on other pilot studies where the progress tutor system was used. There were anecdotal comments along the lines of, 'It did help somewhat but I would have found it better to have the interview with a member of staff', which outnumbered those such as, 'A good idea, as students are all in the same situation and could benefit from each other's insights.' The latter statement does, nevertheless, suggest that 'student-student' meetings might have a contribution to play in effective PDP.

Conclusions

The aforementioned strategies have been directed towards establishing a policy of progress files implementation within an HEI. However, if PDP and progress files are to be established in a way that substantially enhances the learning experiences of all students, they need to be properly resourced, otherwise many staff are likely to resist becoming involved. It can be argued, therefore, that, in the same way that teaching, research, scheme administration and management and other duties place a demand on staff resources, the operation of a successful system of progress files should be part of any decision-making, at institutional and departmental level, on allocation of staff resources. While clearly this is a somewhat problematic issue, with battles having to be fought over resource allocation, it is pertinent to note that much can be done in respect of promoting PDP and progress files with few extra resources. As Jackson comments:

The lack of time is often the biggest barrier to change. Financial support buys time and can provide an incentive to change. Over and over again we see that small amounts of funding that provide a small incentive and show that efforts are being valued can have amazing effects. PDP is one area which could be supported through a whole series of small incentives if earmarked funding was provided. (Jackson, 2001b: 4) Many HEIs, for example, have a tutor system where staff provide advice to students on academic and other matters. Experience at Glamorgan supports the idea that embedding progress files into this process can give it substantial 'added value'. The use of a progress file means that a student can readily provide a more transparent account of their individual progress in their studies. This should inform the tutor's support and advice role, making the process more worthwhile for staff and students alike. Yet, setting up such a regime might be achieved merely by running a series of staff development workshops for tutors outlining the features of PDP and progress files. Alternatively, providing those staff who engage in PDP and progress files with some formal recognition, such as an abatement to their teaching load, might not only enhance their self worth but also send a message to other staff about the value being placed on this.

This can also be facilitated if HEIs, particularly many of those in the pre 1992 University sector, re-evaluate their criteria for staff promotion and career advancement. As Andrew Morgan, of Swansea University, points out: 'The reality is that promotion is based on research' (Times Higher Education Supplement 14 Nov. 2003: 10).

Increased recognition needs to be given to other criteria based on providing students with an effective learning experience. This most obviously embraces classroom 'teaching' skills but also includes participation in the support mechanisms, including progress files, which complement the classroom experience.

Having said this, the value of PDP and progress files need to be clearly established and a major stumbling block here is the lack of convincing research evidence: It is . . . widely acknowledged, even by the enthusiasts, that direct evidence for the benefits and claims made for PDP, in terms of improving student learning and experience, is relatively thin. (LTSN Generic Centre, 2002) Consequently the Learning and Teaching Support Network Generic Centre (now the Higher Education Academy), based at York, has commissioned a systematic review of relevant research literature (Gough et al., 2003) and established a 5-year research strategy designed to produce the knowledge that provides an informed approach towards promoting learning through PDP. However, the LTSN Generic Centre claims that the literature research has already: provided evidence of positive impact on student learning. A wide range of positive outcomes were reported including: improved practical and cognitive skills, self identity/affective outcomes, attitudes to learning and reflection, knowledge of learning styles, autonomy and achievement. (LTSN Generic Centre, 2003) Consideration also needs to be made of strategies appropriate to increasing the priority accorded to PDP in institutional decision- making. Bingham (2002), of the Learning and Teaching Institute at Sheffield Hallam University, has argued that a crucial factor in promoting PDP and progress files within that institution was the existence of a 'champion' within the University's directorate who ensured that, when appropriate, its development was an integral part of management decision-making. Aside from other benefits, a proactive commitment by institutional management is important in influencing decision-making on PDP and progress files at a departmental level, by providing a strong 'steer' on what the institution's policies and objectives are. Without this, decisions made by disparate decision-makers throughout an institution are unlikely to prioritise PDP and progress files consistently and uniformly.

Currently, most, if not all, HEIs would, no doubt, claim that there is such a commitment, if only because their representative bodies have signed the HE sector up to this Dearing-inspired and Government-endorsed policy.

However, unless the promotion of PDP and the accompanying use of progress files is proactively developed, there is a distinct likelihood that some HEIs will be tempted merely to put in place a 'symbolic' system of progress files which is not widely used and, as a result, does not play a significant role in the learning experience of most of its students. This could, nevertheless, be presented to the QAA, in its auditing capacity, and to other external stakeholders, as the institution meeting the requirements imposed on it. Crucially, one feature of the May 2002 Joint Policy Statement (Universities UK, 2000) in effect encourages such a sham development. It requires HEIs to set up a system of progress files so that, by 2005-6, the opportunity is available for every student to compile a progress file, if they so wish. Thus, it is mandatory for institutions to set up the system but, quite reasonably, students who do not wish to engage in the process can choose not to do so. HEIs who go down the 'symbolic progress file' route, either because they have failed to implement a substantive system of progress files successfully or have not even attempted to do so, could nevertheless claim to have met the requirements of the Joint Policy Statement in that a system is in place but students have elected not to engage in it. This may hide the reality of some HEIs never truly participating in the process of promoting PDP and developing an effective system of progress files.

I would anticipate that some individuals who have been given the responsibility of promoting progress files in HEIs may well identify with the last point and feel that they have been entrusted with this responsibility without the resources and institutional commitment necessary to establish a credible system. Yet it will be a major failure within the HE sector if such a 'sham' is the eventual result, intended or not. PDP and progress files can be important mechanisms in improving the learning experience and expertise of learners. Significantly, the majority of University of Glamorgan students who have used progress files appear to endorse this view. Of the students who completed questionnaires on four of the pilot studies in 2002-3, over 70 percent expressed positive statements on the value of progress files in facilitating their learning experience. It would be a grave pity, therefore, if, in a few years' time, those who are currently in positions in higher education to determine the success or otherwise of progress files implementation were to reflect on the current period as a missed opportunity.


active learning in higher education

Book reviews

Teaching, Learning and Study Skills: A Guide for Tutors by Tom Burns and Sandra Sinfield. London: SAGE Publications, 2004. ISBN 1-4129-0069-7 (pbk), 1-4129-0068-9 (hbk).

I approached this book thinking I knew what it would contain. I was expecting clear guidance aimed at tutors who wish to support the learning of non-traditional students and indeed I was not disappointed, but this book also does a lot more than provide practical advice. It presents a rigorous analysis of the arguments surrounding the 'access and widening participation' and the 'skills in HE' debates. The conceptual framework provided helps tutors to understand how the pressure points and tensions in the sector have arisen, as well as what practical steps they can take to support student learning on their courses.

The message that underpins this book is that the skills development activities that can bridge the gap between the starting point for a non-traditional student and the point that he/she needs to reach in order to ensure a successful university learning experience are activities that will support the learning of all students. The skills addressed in this book are those learning activities that all universities require students to be able to undertake. The role of the learning/academic development tutor supporting students is to make the expectations of universities explicit to all students.

Step by step this book explains to tutors the journey that they need to undertake with students in order to ensure their students experience learning success.

To return to the practical support for tutors that Teaching, Learning and Study Skills offers, strategies, ideas and photocopiable resources are included. Each focus area is the subject of a chapter, and each chapter is structured in a broadly similar way. The skill area is introduced and key issues are examined, and the authors explain why the skill area is needed to be part of a student's repertoire of skills. They explain how they have addressed such issues previously, provide activities to encourage tutors to reflect upon the particular skill and give examples of different learning activities that can be used to help the student to develop in the area in question. Lesson plans, teaching resources and session notes are provided across a range of study skill areas including some less often considered such as promoting student self-confidence.

My feeling is that once having read the book and therefore having a clearer understanding of the issues involved, tutors will be keen to develop further the materials provided in order to tailor them to their particular subject area, working contexts and students rather than simply using them 'off the peg'.

Overall this book is an excellent example of scholarship and professional experience in the areas of non-traditional students, access and widening participation and skills in higher education. The book can be read and enjoyed as an academic text and pored over as a source of excellent practical advice. 'If you help adults learn this book is for you.' A confident opening statement but a promise that is, I believe, fulfilled by this 'self-help' book.

This book was written for teachers in the early years of a career in teaching adults but it also presents an interesting opportunity for the experienced teacher to critically reflect upon personal assumptions about:

• being a reflective practitioner, • working with learners, • supporting learning and teaching, and • contexts for teaching and learning.

The book opens with a very useful overview of reflection, including practical strategies for becoming, or encouraging others to become, a reflective practitioner, followed by ideas for encouraging reflective practice. This work is scholarly and clearly underpinned by a wealth of knowledge about the theories relating to reflection. In addition, the writer's practical experience of supporting learners as they begin to engage with reflective practice is evident. The ability to move from theory to some very practical ideas to try out in sessions is a feature of this book and one which will make it very popular with those trying to help learners develop reflective practice.

A major focus of this text is the consideration of ways of working with learners to bring about transformation in their learning. Themes include the importance of interaction in bringing about learning, whether or not this interaction takes place face-to face or online, and the need for power-sharing. Consideration of inclusive teaching and the need to value diversity follows; again the theory is clearly illustrated by reference to the extensive practical experience of the chapter authors and guidance for those wishing to experiment with some of their ideas. The discussion about the limits of 'individualism' compared with 'interdependence' is particularly powerful and gave this seasoned practitioner food for thought. Moving on from the direct support of learning that takes place within sessions, the development of the learning environment is considered. The chapter by Robin Graham, 'Preparing for Teaching', is an aide memoire on all that needs to be done in preparation for

A

  N D R E W M AT H I E S O N University of the West of England, Bristol Reflection to Transformation: A Self-help Book for Teachers edited by Nick Zepke, Dean Nugent and Linda Leach. New Zealand: Dunmore Press, 2003. ISBN 0-86469-435-0.


active learning in higher education

Editorial

LY N N E P. B A L DW I N Brunel University, UK

In his enticingly named book Academic Tribes and Territories, Becher looks at the complex relationship between the way that we, as academics, organize ourselves and how this is interlinked with the tasks which we undertake in our role. His study, reported in the book, spans the disciplines/subject areas and reports on data gathered by way of interviews undertaken with practising academics and also from the body of knowledge that has been published in the field. Becher's questions fall into five categories, one of which concerns the characteristics of the discipline/subject area which he explores in Chapter 2. In this chapter, respondents report that although there are, naturally enough, differences between academics dependent in part on their individual institutions, there is nevertheless a shared view of the discipline that transcends the cultural and/or geographical boundaries. In other words, mathematicians, historians, biologists (or whoever) the world over recognize that there is 'a world' of (say) mathematicians to which they 'belong' and that, should they meet another mathematician, even if they are from another culture or country, they will always share a common set of values, beliefs and the like that underpin the 'language' of mathematicians, and mathematics itself.

Becher goes on to describe how we display our 'membership' of our particular tribe, which includes, for example, what we have on our desks/in our offices. It seems that the engineer may have an office whose shelves, or desk, may display some scale model or other, whilst the anthropologist may have walls decorated with colourful ethnic works of art of one type or another. As I read this, I looked at my own office and desk, and wondered what these said about me/my discipline! Becher's work was published some time ago, in 1989, so it would be intriguing to see how disciplines have changed (if at all) over the years, and how new/emerging groupings (are they 'disciplines'?) such as bioinformatics, for example, have forged their identities since their recent inception. Whatever the discipline, or academic tribe, as Becher calls it, those coming into it embark on a process to understand and fit into (and, later, shape) the tribe to which they seek to belong. How well and how quickly we do so is, one supposes, dependent to a great extent on the individual! That it is not an easy task is undisputed; being the 'new kid on the block' is not without its trials and tribulations. This is as true for our learners as it is for us, as academics, of course. This issue takes as its theme how our learners understand, or come to understand, the academic 'tribe' to which they, too, belong.

Enculturation of new students into the discipline is the focus of the first article, entitled 'Teaching autonomy: "reading groups" and the development of autonomous learning practices'. In this, Diane Railton and Paul Watson say that learners must not only understand the discipline itself but must also learn how to study effectively. This, they argue, is too often left for learners to do for themselves rather than being something that we, as educators, make explicit and actually teach. They describe their approach, which they call 'structured autonomy', and its benefits for use with a cohort of first-year learners. Whatever our learners do, or do not, learn during their degree course, upon leaving one 'tribe' and joining another, in the workplace, they need to be able to identify precisely what skills, whether transferable or otherwise, they possess (or do not) as they seek to join it. In the second article, entitled 'Academic achievement: the role of praise in motivating students', Effie Maclellan argues that, with the diverse student intake which characterizes the intake in today's higher education climate, we must be aware that many students may not necessarily be well prepared for the demands, or that they may not necessarily learn in the way in which we expect or that is 'traditional'. In this article we are provided with a cogent account of the multi-faceted nature of motivation, and I wholeheartedly agree that there is much to suggest that we need to re-visit our (often wrongly held) assumptions on what motivation is, and is not.

A similarly comprehensive overview of the literature on reflection, essential if we are to better help our learners to develop this vital aspect of learning, is provided in the third article, by Helen Bulpitt and Peter J. Martin, entitled 'Learning about reflection from the student'. In this, they discuss the challenges faced in balancing reality with the abstract and the conditions considered necessary to support reflective thinking and practice. In the battle to understand self (which is, to a great extent, what learning is all about) and their place within the 'tribe', our learners, like us, need to make sense of the environment in which they find themselves and the people within it. As educators, we use written feedback as one of the channels by which we communicate with our learners. How, and how well, we do so is the subject of the fourth article, entitled '"Testing, testing . . .": how do students use written feedback?' by Stephanie E. Pitts. In the study reported, it seems that we still have much to do to help our learners to understand what it is we are looking for in their written work and, in a sense, what is important (or not) to the 'tribe'.

Joining and/or understanding the 'tribe' is perhaps more difficult for those who study part-time, as the fifth article, entitled 'How students cope with part-time study: an analysis of coping mechanisms through an online forum', demonstrates. In this, David Kember et al. describe a study which sheds light on how self, work, family and social aspects impact on the coping mechanisms employed by part-time learners and the relationship of these to their sense of belonging. The sense of belonging to the 'tribe' is, Kember et al. argue, one of the factors which help to explain which learners persist with their studies and which ones do not.

Identifying and then providing support for students who may be 'at risk' is also the focus of the sixth article, 'Managing the transition into higher education: an on-line Spiral Induction Programme', by Christoper Laing et al. They describe their online Spiral Induction Programme (onSIP), a suite of online activities designed to effectively support learners as they deal with the challenges of managing the transition into higher education. Whilst higher education, like everything else, changes over time, there is a sense that the 'territory' of the 'tribe' has faced the equivalent of a fairly major earthquake in recent years. There are thus challenges for us all, as we grapple with issues such as balancing the demands of teaching with those of research, or, as is the subject of the seventh and final article in this issue, the 'Changing roles and competencies of academics'. In this article, Senga Briggs reports on a study into how academics perceive their competence in the online and traditional learning environments, arguing that conflict and/or lack of understanding of what our role(s) might be may affect not only our satisfaction but also our performance and, ultimately, impact on our decision as to whether to remain a member of the 'tribe' at all.


Stephanie E Pitts

This article reports on a small-scale study of feedback on music students' written work, in which staff and students were asked to evaluate existing practice and suggest potential modifications. The value of feedback as a communicative learning tool is illustrated through students' participation in a range of research tasks, including rating the usefulness of existing feedback comments and attempting to generate their own. The study shows that challenges in developing practice apply even where changes sought are far from radical, and conclusions are drawn which suggest ways forward for practice and research in giving feedback.

are acknowledged to embrace 'patterns of power, authority, emotion and identity' (Higgins et al., 2001: 273). Pat Young (2000) has drawn attention to the emotional impact of receiving comments and marks, challenges which may be particularly acute for a music student, whose sense of selfidentity as a musician is closely tied to musical ability and achievement (cf. Pitts, 2002). Beyond the mature students that Young studied, there are 'psychologically vulnerable students' in our classes too (Young, 2000: 409), and it is easy to underestimate the extent to which careless assessment and feedback might affect their development and emotional stability.

The majority of recent studies of feedback have advocated substantial change from a traditional system where the tutor holds sole responsibility and authority in assessment, towards alternative methods of peer-and selfassessment (e.g. Cheng and Warren, 2000). My aim in this study is not so ambitious: I am searching rather for ways of doing tutor assessment well and for an understanding of how students interpret and use the feedback they receive in the process. Calls for different forms of assessment may result from that investigation, but the principal aim here is to measure the health of the current system, and determine whether it seems set to grow or perish.

Research aims and methods

The study reported here was carried out between March and May 2003 in the Department of Music at the University of Sheffield, where I have been a lecturer since 1999. The research therefore embraces the perils and opportunities of researching 'close to home', not least the ethical considerations of researching with my own students, and the limitations of being 'a prophet in [my] own country' when reporting back to colleagues (Wellington, 1996: 15). Care was taken to preserve the anonymity of participants, who were volunteers from the third-year undergraduate population, recruited through an initial questionnaire and covering letter distributed via the internal mail. Permission to use their responses in publications was sought at every stage, and participants were free to join and leave the study as they wished.

Questionnaire design reflected standard practice in educational research (Cohen and Manion, 1994), with the inclusion of a number of 'tick box' questions, followed by some more open-ended questions with space for qualitative comments. Students were asked about the ways in which they typically receive and respond to written feedback, given words to select from to describe the tone and style of the comments they receive, and asked to describe the features they find helpful and unhelpful. Return rates were typically low (cf. Cohen and Manion, 1994), but sufficient for my purposes: 18 out of 53 questionnaires were returned (34%), and five students also returned their reply slip and volunteered to be in the discussion group.

Having established an initial overview through the questionnaire, my next aim was to gather more detailed, individual views from those volunteers who had offered to participate further. As had been outlined to the students when they agreed to take part, the discussion group meetings included some structured tasks designed to encourage deeper reflection on real and ideal feedback. Students were asked to bring to the first meeting a piece of feedback that had had a particular effect on them and their work, and to write a short reflection explaining the significance of the feedback they had nominated. Following a discussion of that task, which was taperecorded and transcribed, the students were asked to complete a ratings grid which sought their reactions to examples of vocabulary and style that were typical of feedback in the department. Finally, they were asked between meetings to write their own feedback for a piece of work that I provided: a modified version of a book review that I had recently written, altered to include some of the common faults that are identified through feedback -such as inelegant expression, arguments that are not pursued effectively, sudden jumps of direction -whilst retaining some more positive features that the students might choose to comment on. They were asked to 'write some comments on this piece of work in whatever way you feel would be helpful to the author', so allowing me to match their own attempts with the ideals they had identified through earlier tasks and discussion.

Findings from the questionnaire and first discussions were summarized and used as the basis for discussion in the second meeting, in order to check my understanding of the students' views in a manner consistent with focus group and grounded theory research (Charmaz, 1995;Wellington, 1996). This summary was also distributed to staff in the music department, as my hope was to gather colleagues' views and perhaps even to stimulate a discussion about feedback practices in the department. Four colleagues (out of 12) responded to the questions that were circulated with the summary, and their views were compared with the student perspectives.

It will be apparent from this outline of methods that the research reported here is in the nature of a small-scale preliminary investigation, and is of value as much for its testing of a range of research methods as for its findings. Results from staff and students will be reported in the next section, forming the basis for reflections on good practice and the potential for development.

Research findings and discussion

Students were asked in this study about both current and ideal practicetheir views of one perhaps inevitably informing their hopes for the other. The distribution, style and frequency of feedback received were all covered, raising a number of ideas which can be generalized beyond the idiosyncrasies of our departmental practice to varying degrees. The focus in this article will be on the communicative effects and possibilities of written feedback, since this is likely to offer the most fruitful point of comparison with readers' own experiences.

Asking students what they need from feedback is a salutary exercise, since it is immediately apparent that a scribbled comment or hasty judgement is seen by them as an indication of lack of care and interest in their work, which lessens their trust in the tutor's professional judgement as well as potentially threatening their own self-confidence through carelessly negative comments. Some comments from the questionnaire data endorsed this recognition of the care (or otherwise) taken over providing feedback:

• Irritating if it's difficult to read. Feel a little bit more effort could have been put in after all student's effort. • If the tutor writes messily and criticizes at the same time, it makes it twice as bad! • If it seems that a tutor has taken time and effort to write feedback, then I am more inclined to take the comments on board (e.g. word processed, a decent length).

Other students were more pragmatic in their views on presentation and style:

• I would rather have lots of messy feedback than two lines of beautiful print. We understand that time is precious. • Don't think it really matters -notes and bullet points make just as much sense as full sentences.

Students' requirements for clear and individual feedback might be met through short, precise comments, or demand a more lengthy response: opinions seemed to be divided on the values of brevity and depth, a point which was investigated more closely through an item on the questionnaire which asked students to 'underline the words that characterize the feedback you generally receive' from the selection shown in Figure 1.

These adjectives were chosen to be balanced for positive and negative connotations without including obvious opposites which would counteract one another and so limit responses. 'Brief' was the most frequently selected word, appearing in 12 out of 18 responses (66%), and coming slightly ahead of 'fair' and 'helpful', which were both selected by 11 students (61%). It was combined with the full range of other responses, implicitly acquiring positive associations by being perceived as 'clear' and 'helpful'. Indeed, the combinations of words showed that in these students' eyes it is possible for feedback to be both 'blunt' and 'helpful', or 'unhelpful' but 'fair' although, perhaps surprisingly, never 'confusing'! Students in the discussion group were asked to supply a piece of feedback that 'had had a particular effect on them': the three who responded all interpreted this to mean a positive impact, and their reflections on the usefulness of the feedback received endorsed the views that had emerged from the questionnaire data. Suggestions for future work, encouragement and balanced criticism were all valued, and criticism was accepted where it was tactfully articulated. Two of the students mentioned practical steps they had taken in future work as a result of this feedback: one explained that she now aimed 'to cut down on words and use less "common" language', while another had used a tutor's 'ideas and suggestions to create an "essay dos and don'ts list" which I now have pinned on my wall and refer to for every essay'. I asked this last student if she could have been given such a list of such 'dos and don'ts' at the start of the course, and whilst she agreed that might have helped her, she valued the specificity of the list she had constructed from her feedback.

In the final task in their first meeting, the discussion group students were given a selection of sample comments and asked to choose the ones they 'would find most helpful and/or approachable'. As in earlier tasks, they reflected here on the tact of markers, the recognition of student effort, the value of comments that are applicable to future work, and the use of encouragement and a positive tone. Only one statement -the least destructive out of a group of three negative comments -attracted unanimous approval; others were more divided, and prompted useful discussion on feedback style and content. The statement 'A good summary of a difficult topic' was dismissed as 'too vague', although elsewhere the acknowledgement of difficulty was felt to indicate tutors' empathy with students' level of effort. Similar confusions emerged in discussion of a statement that was chosen by two students: 'Some great ideas here -I particularly enjoyed your discussion of the symphony's title, which is very misleading, I agree'. Here one student valued the 'positive and encouraging' nature of the comment, having earlier dismissed a lecturer's expression of 'enjoyment' as a 'useless comment'. With such variations emerging even across different examples with the same student, the range of interpretation to which feedback comments are open has worrying implications. In this task, students showed themselves to be sensitive to language, less concerned about presentation but keen to see evidence of thought and commitment on the lecturer's part, and to be given encouraging, specific comments that were applicable to future work.

The perceptive analytical skills these students have shown in 'feeding back on their feedback' highlight their capacities as discerning learners, who at times are feeling short-changed by their teachers and assessors. Previous studies have shown that students' sensitivity to the language used to discuss their work is often highly charged, and the 'objectivity' we implicitly claim for our assessments, with finely graded marks and a distanced commentary, is misleading (Sadler, 1983), particularly in the interpretative realm of the creative arts (Smart and Dixon, 2002). The students in my study, as in Hyland's (2003) work with learners of English as a Second Language, often had clear ideas about what they wanted from their feedback, and had been unable to communicate these needs to their tutors, despite being able to articulate them clearly for a researcher. Asking students what they want from their feedback might therefore be a useful step forward, although Southworth (1999) questions the usefulness of familiar ways of gathering such student views, whilst emphasizing the need to bridge conceptual gaps which are 'to subject academics . . . too obvious to need explanation' but remain for many undergraduates 'a mystifying refusal to name the rules of the game' (Southworth, 1999: 3).

Students were generally very accepting of the current system, and dissatisfaction was expressed in fairly mild terms, with students showing an awareness of the limitations brought by staff workload and availability of time. They were also willing to take some responsibility for improving practice, sometimes admitting that they had not taken up existing opportunities to meet with module tutors or submit drafts of writing for interim feedback. However, the view of one discussion group member, that 'we can get by on how it is now -it's not dire but it could be improved', shows a clear need for further development if students are to do more than 'survive' the system.

Students' suggestions for development centred on two main requests: more verbal, face-to-face feedback, given through meetings with module tutors; and improvements in the written comments that they receive, with greater equality of provision amongst different tutors. These questionnaire responses are illustrative of the range of suggestions made on this point:

• It should be compulsory (not all lecturers are good at writing comments as feedback and some only give grades). • Possibly more detailed comments, though for some tutors, not necessary.

• I think it should be ensured that students always receive detailed, legible commentary on their work, not just a mark (although maybe this is already in place?).

A few students suggested a standardized 'comment sheet', but this was often hedged around with provisos that supported the general emphasis on the individuality of the feedback they would like to receive. If written feedback is about communication between teachers and learners, the restrictions of a standard form could inhibit current good practice, even while raising less satisfactory practice to an acceptable minimum standard. The students seem to be aware of this balance in their cautious approach to any blanket solutions.

These two ideas -more frequent meetings with module tutors, and greater consistency and quality in written feedback -were the strongest suggestions to emerge from the student responses. Both seem reasonable in principle, but attract the familiar cautions that staff time and student willingness to engage with new practices can inhibit change. The discussion group participants were aware of these problems, with one pointing out that 'it takes two hands to clap'; in other words, that staff and students alike must perceive change to be necessary and desirable if it is to happen in any systematic way. This same student became very determined towards the end of the meeting, stating that 'unless we make it very clear across the board what changes we want exactly, it is very hard to change'. Another member of the group said that participating in this research had reassured him 'that there's concern elsewhere, not just in my head '. As the discussion group students had recognized, consultation with staff formed an important part of this research exercise, and once again even a limited number of responses revealed a certain level of dissent, highlighting the problems of consistency in feedback practices. Staff found few surprises in the summary of students' comments, but predictability did not necessarily imply agreement, and there was recognition from several members of staff that students should take some of the responsibility for using their feedback more effectively. Staff noted a low level of students' ability to critique their own work, a view endorsed by the difficulties experienced by the discussion group students in the task that required them to generate feedback for themselves. Given a sample book review to comment on, the discussion group seemed reluctant to make criticisms of the writing, and unable to apply the features of feedback that they had identified as being useful, one observing that 'we're just not used to doing this kind of thing'. One student commented on a previous experience of reading a friend's dissertation, when he had found it 'quite hard not to be too negative -I found myself just picking out what's wrong with it'. The encouraging aspects of feedback were valued by students as recipients, but seemed to be a skill requiring practice to avoid being 'a bit too critical and picky'.

Staff aims in giving feedback echoed the students' views in valuing 'formative feedback that will improve future work', 'encouragement for things that were done well', and 'highlighting of areas where more work could have taken place/more insight used'. Not surprisingly, staff were even more acutely aware than the students of the increased demands that more detailed and thorough feedback would place upon them, and were therefore resistant to ideas that seemed to duplicate effort unnecessarily. One colleague noted, for example, that detailed criteria could be used as a means of 'feed forward', such that strengths and weaknesses in the final piece of work could be related to these initial instructions. 'Feed forward' is a familiar idea from the literature, but is more often associated with formative assessment than with the criteria for a task (Higgins, 2000). The connection between each of these may be obvious from the staff perspective, but if links between tasks, criteria and feedback are not being consistently made by staff, it is likely that students will also find this an unfamiliar concept, and will need support in fostering those connections for themselves. The good intentions of one staff member are here possibly being subverted by the context in which they occur, showing the need for collaborative intention if real change is to be effected.

Taken overall, the student and staff perspectives gathered through these various research methods show a system in which there is an underlying dissatisfaction but little impetus for change. The final section of this article will therefore consider the practical and research implications of these findings, and draw some conclusions about possible ways forward.

Research and teaching implications

Staff and students in this study were both generous in apportioning some of the responsibility for improving assessment to themselves, and some to the other party, but given that colleagues who were willing to participate in the consultation are likely to be the most interested in developing current practice, our department is still recognizable in this description:

One of the major barriers to innovation in assessment will be academic staff. Some will not see the need; some will be wary of the purposes and implications of change; while others will simply lack the technical knowledge to move from the rhetoric which they accept to the reality which needs to follow. 'Managing academics is like herding cats', it is said. There is, then, a substantial, hope-filled, staff development job to be done. (Brown and Knight, 1994: 142) Carrying out this research project has already had an effect on the way I think about giving feedback to my own students, and has made me question some of the assumptions I had made about what constitutes good practice. At the simplest level, I was surprised that the discussion group students like 'getting ticks' on their work, having felt myself that this was too reminiscent of school marking and, frankly, rather lazy. As one student demonstrated in the book review feedback task, her preference would be for ticks for instant satisfaction, and comments to explain why each tick was deserved. Comments that directly address the student are highly valued, and this has made me think more carefully about the language I use in feedback: I am now more likely to write 'you . . .' than 'this essay . . .', and am less reticent about saying what I have enjoyed in a piece of writing, and in acknowledging any difficulties or impressive levels of effort that I perceive in the task the student has carried out. I have been pleased to find that my main aims in giving feedback are shared by the students; acknowledging what has been done well, advising on less successful aspects of the work, and offering suggestions that can be implemented in future tasks.

One perception that needs to be challenged amongst staff is that feedback is written 'for the file', to justify a mark given and to keep some official record of each student's progress. The systematic recording of students' development is important, but only in so far as it has an impact on that development; where feedback is hidden from the students, even unwittingly, it serves very little purpose. At the most straightforward level, this suggests the need to improve systems of distributing written comments to students in our department; currently the majority receive comments in meetings with their personal tutor (who is often not their module tutor) and only 33 per cent of the questionnaire sample regularly received a copy of their written feedback. The staff responses show that giving students a copy of their feedback is not necessarily seen as desirable: 'if you've read it out to them, they might as well have a copy if they want it (let's not waste more paper though)'. There is evidence here of a misplaced sense of bureaucracy, with perhaps the implication that giving feedback is an administrative task, rather than a teaching task. Changing the practice by distributing feedback sheets more systematically would at least increase students' access to the comments that are written about their work, but would not change the more deep-seated attitude that such procedures are unnecessarily onerous.

In this study I have achieved my aim of understanding more closely how students in the music department receive and use written feedback, but inevitably many questions remain unanswered and open for further investigation. Focusing only on written feedback was necessary for the scope of this study, and it was useful that some alternatives -such as increased tutorial contact -emerged in discussion to show the potential for more radical change. The students' need to use feedback to inform future work suggested that good quality written feedback should still be a priority, but their hope that this could take place within the context of informed and frequent tutorials offers another useful insight. It is worth noting, too, that feedback on written work forms only part of the students' assessment; most will also be assessed on their musical performing and composing during their degree course. Here the subject-specific literature points to the additional challenges of assessing in such a subjective realm (Hunter, 1999;Kleiman, 2001). Susan O'Neill and John Sloboda (1997) have shown that 'failure' in a musical task can directly affect children's motivation; combine this with Young's (2000) findings on the potentially destructive impact of feedback, and the powerful role that assessment comments play in music students' learning and development becomes ever more apparent. There is obvious potential for further research in each of these areas, and the combined research methods of this study offer a possible way forward in tackling potentially sensitive topics, particularly as a practitioner-researcher.

Allowing students to approach and consider ideas repeatedly through different tasks and forums meant that a small sample of students yielded rich data, and individual experiences -shown to be at the heart of the assessment process -could be clearly heard.

My findings have shown a student body who are 'surviving the system', tolerating feedback of variable quality whilst seeing the benefits and potential of more effective communication with their tutors. Suggestions for change will be presented to staff to generate at least an increased awareness, and hopefully some clear improvements in practice. For my own part, the most important finding is to have heard from the students -and so much more powerfully than from the literature -that assessment is a teaching role, not an administrative one; that teaching, learning and assessment are intricately linked; and that feedback is about communication and is read and valued as such.

It has become increasingly clear during the course of this research project that surface-level changes -increased meetings with tutors, greater consistency in styles of feedback -are not enough to ensure a genuinely fresh approach to feedback in the department. Perhaps this is another reason for the more frequent focus on radical change when researching assessment: to approach a familiar task with renewed vigour demands even more determination, since old habits are easily resumed. Nonetheless, the implicit suggestions that emerge from the questionnaire and discussion group data seem to me to be worthy of greater consideration. Developing students' skills in critiquing their own work, increasing the effectiveness of the drafting process in written work, and making the assessment criteria more accessible and transparent -these points go beyond the practicalities of how feedback is written and distributed, and offer greater potential for increasing students' independence and power as motivated, self-aware learners. Empowering the students to be critical learners and 'conscientious consumers' (Higgins et al., 2002) could turn out to be the most effective (if rather subversive) way of developing practice in the department.

Figure 1

 1 Figure 1 Adjectives for describing typical feedback

P I T T S : ' T E S T I N G , T E S T I N G '

Acknowledgements

Many thanks to the students and staff who participated in this project, and to Dr Cheryl Hunt for her advice and encouragement.


D I A N E R A I Lto N

L Pau

Wat S O N

'Reading groups' and the development of autonomous learning practices

Keywords: autonomy, enculturation, first year experience, peer support, skills, transition

A B S T R AC T A key factor in the transition to university is the enculturation of new students into both the discipline they are studying and effective study practices. Most significantly, students, whatever their chosen discipline, must learn to become autonomous learners. Too often this process is either left to chance or seen as a natural attribute of the higher education learning system rather than a particular skill that must be learnt and can be taught. In this article we discuss one particular approach to designing 'structured autonomy' into a first year core media studies module. We argue that the notion of autonomy needs to be considered as a central component of learning, teaching and assessment strategies and, moreover, that an integrated approach towards these factors has the additional benefit of contributing towards a more holistic first year experience for students.

Teaching autonomy

Introduction

. . . the biggest problem for many first year students is their mindset that all the material they need to complete the unit successfully will be provided in lectures, tutorials and lecture notes.

(respondent cited in Waters, 2003: 299) The distinction between deep learning and surface learning has formed the axis for much educational thinking in recent times (see, for example, Atherton, 1999;Biggs, 1999;Johnston, 1998;Newble and Cannon, 1995;Ramsden, 1992;Rhem, 1995;Rust, 2002). This approach distinguishes between different styles of student learning, but is predicated on the assumption that students arrive at university already knowing that their role is to learn, not merely to be taught. Often our experience tells us that the very opposite holds true, with many students simply transferring expectations of education derived from their experience of the school system into the university context. Indeed, one of the major factors facing teachers and students in higher education today is precisely this process of transition from one model of education to another, for students, a stage which Ballinger refers to as a 'potentially disorientating period at the start of their degree studies' (Ballinger, 2003: 99, see also Parker, 2003;Smith, 2003Smith, , 2004;;Yorke, 2003). What we often end up doing is expecting students to adapt their practices to fit ours as if by osmosis: we expect students to 'speak the same language' as us and intuitively understand the adjustments in their learning practice that higher education demands.

Perhaps the key difference in working practice that we want students to understand, and the one that is often the most difficult to communicate to them, is that they will be expected to function as autonomous learners from the outset of their time at university. Implicit in this, of course, is that we expect students to have the skills to effectively manage a significant amount of independent study time with little or no explicit or structured direction from us. The maxim 'go and read' is, to some extent, emblematic of the mismatch between our expectations and student skills. It is, perhaps, the clearest indication of the fact that students and teachers are two communities divided by a common language. For instance, while on the one hand, we may know precisely what we mean when we advise students to 'go and read', on the other hand such proclamations are in themselves practically useless to new students unless they are accompanied by further explication such as, what to read, how to read it, and what to do with it. These are precisely the kind of specific academic skills that students are unlikely to have had to utilize in previous modes of education and, contrary to what we seem to hope, do not inherently possess or 'naturally' develop. In what follows we argue that as part of the process of enculturing students into higher education, a process of bridging the 'gaps or gulfs between school and university' (Clerehan, 2003: 72), there needs to be far greater clarity in the ways we communicate our expectations, and, moreover, increased attention must be directed towards teaching the skill of autonomous learning. To this end, we shall discuss the way in which some of these issues have been addressed by making some relatively minor modifications to the learning, teaching and assessment strategy of the level one, core module Studying Media Studies within a BA (Hons) Media Studies programme. More specifically, these modifications turn upon the implementation of a system of 'reading groups' which act to link learning and assessment within the module to broader issues of enculturation, peer support, and the transition to appropriate academic learning practices. Reading groups are in essence small, independent student study groups that serve to provide a forum for discussion and a focus for individual students' autonomous learning.

Approaches to learning: the gap between students and tutors

Reading groups developed out of our experience of, and frustration with, teaching first year students in seminar groups. The Media Studies core programme had previously been overwhelmingly based on the 'traditional' model of a lecture-seminar delivery pattern. Seminars were designed to promote discussion of issues raised in the lectures and addressed in core readings. Students were directed to prepare for these sessions by reading a set text or selecting appropriate material from a reading list. The seminar sessions themselves were, in principle, geared around small-group discussion of questions provided by the tutor which were designed to prompt students to relate issues addressed in the reading to those raised in the delivery. In practice, however, this rarely happened. On the contrary, students seemed reluctant to take part in discussion and often diverted any debate back towards the tutor by requesting further explanation of either the material delivered in the lecture or encountered in the reading. By the same token, tutors often felt the pressure to 'fill' the gaps in student understanding and acquiesced to their demands. As a result of this, seminar time was often spent delivering what was, in effect, 'a second lecture' at the expense of student participation. Therefore, neither the intellectual nor the skills-based outcomes of seminars were met with any consistency, and the social component of seminar teaching was undermined. In short, a 'culture of dependency' became established which worked to prevent autonomous and effective student learning. In other words, what students seemed to lack was what Rawson refers to as an 'awareness of self as learner' (Rawson, 2000: 235). In such a learning environment, the tutor was positioned at the core of the student learning process, the owner and disseminator of knowledge. By implication, the student was positioned as peripheral to their own learning, the recipient of pre-digested knowledge.

There are two principal factors which, on reflection, it was possible to identify as contributing to this situation. These factors were related to the working practices of both students and tutors and the differing expectations each held of the function and purpose of seminars. In the first instance, students rarely prepared in a way that enabled them to participate in the seminar process as we understood it and designed it. This is not to say that they did not 'do the reading', but rather that their understanding of what 'doing the reading' entailed was substantially different to ours. We presumed that, before attending the seminar, students would read and reread texts until they had acquired some level of understanding of the issues and key arguments. The students, by contrast, often understood the term 'reading' as simply reading the words on the page, paying at best cursory attention to the ideas expressed in those words. Moreover, where students had attempted to move beyond this literal understanding of 'reading', they nevertheless tended to focus on identifying gaps in their knowledge rather than engaging with the ideas in the text. Furthermore, these putative gaps in knowledge were, strictly speaking, rarely gaps in disciplinary knowledge, that is the content of the text, but related more specifically to its form, to the language and vocabulary in which the content was expressed. As such, the problem was not that students had not prepared for seminars per se, but that they had prepared for seminars as they understood them rather than the way we understood them. Students, therefore, came to seminars prepared to seek help from the tutor, but not prepared to contribute intellectually. In other words, they came to be taught, not to learn, where learning is understood to mean a dynamic process in which the student is actively involved. It is no accident, of course, that student conceptions of both their own and the teacher's role and responsibilities in the seminar process should so closely mimic that of the school class, given that our expectations of the purpose and process of preparation largely remained unspoken.

Secondly, we had expected that students, even if they had not actively prepared for the session, would be interested in the subject they were studying to the extent that they would have strong opinions and would welcome the chance to express and debate them with others. We anticipated that one of our key roles as seminar tutors would be to facilitate discussion and ensure that less confident members of the group were afforded the opportunity to speak. Indeed, many of the teaching techniques deployed in this context were predicated on this principle, that is, enabling voices to be heard. In practice, however, this model of student learning was problematic. Although many students were willing to engage in discussion, or at least conversation, with the tutor, they were generally reluctant to discuss things with each other. In plenary sessions, comments were addressed solely to the tutor, and in small group work the main aim of each group seemed to be to catch and hold the tutor's attention. While on the one hand, therefore, there was an appearance of learning inasmuch as students did participate in the processes, on the other hand it was precisely that, merely an appearance. There was a tendency for students to attempt to align their responses to the notion of a 'right answer' rather than exploring a range of possible responses with each other. There were two aspects at work here: students' conception of the 'right answer' was determined by what they perceived the tutor 'wanted to hear'; and the validity of responses was measured by the tutor's reaction to them on a crude scale of right/wrong. Moreover, there was slippage from the already problematic notion of a straightforwardly right/wrong answer to an even more problematic evaluative good/bad judgement of the student as an individual person. While this, in itself, has potentially damaging consequences for students' confidence and self-esteem (see Boud, 1995), in relation to learning, this situation can be understood as one where, in Yorke's terms, 'performance goals' have become 'elevated above learning goals' (Yorke, 2003: 489). Students wanted to 'do well', yet 'doing well' was not, in their minds, directly linked with learning. It became clear that students did not see discussion with their peers as a learning process but rather a way of demonstrating to the tutor not only that they were 'participating', or even that they 'knew' the 'right' answer, but that they were a good person. In practice students approached seminar work in the same way that they approached assessed work. In positioning the tutor as the proprietor of knowledge, every interaction with the tutor inevitably became construed by students as an examination situation where their work, and by implication they themselves, would be judged.

Rather than taking the opportunity, therefore, to 'try out' their ideas with others, students tended to 'play safe' insofar as they restricted their range of responses to those which were felt likely to be judged as correct. One negative implication of this logic for student learning is the development of strategic concealment: a process in which students direct their talents and energies towards hiding their limitations rather than improving their learning practices. In the end, the seminar process was reduced to something like a game of second-guessing what the tutor wanted as opposed to an active learning relationship. Students did not see each other as a valuable learning resource, or, for that matter, even involved in the learning relationship. This model of learning, of course, is completely at odds with how we understand the sociality of the learning process. That is to say, social dimensions are fundamental to the learning process, and especially crucial to modes of complex learning characteristic of higher education. Moreover, the role of the teacher/tutor is not necessarily privileged above that of other people. It is, despite having specific functions, simply one amongst many.

The main point here is the differing conceptions of knowledge and learning adopted by academics and students. Learning proper is, for us, an ongoing, incremental process that takes place within a network of complex social relationships. One implication of this view is that knowledge itself is not fixed and permanent, but negotiated and permeable. Moreover, knowledge is constantly being constructed and reconstructed through the interplay of ideas and experiences in complex social and institutional situations. Learning, therefore, is not simply about finding knowledge, but involves contributing to its creation. By way of contrast, however, for the student, knowledge was conceived as something that was, and could be, owned by individuals. For them, therefore, the goal of learning was to acquire knowledge from those who were perceived as already in possession of it. And, once again following the logic of the school class, it was tutors who were positioned as owners of knowledge -a situation compounded by their position as graders and assessors of student work. Students did not understand either themselves or their fellow students as possessors of valid knowledge, knowledge which contributes to the learning process. Taking this, together with student perceptions of appropriate preparation, it was clear that students expected that their role in the learning process, even in higher education, was to be taught, not to learn, to be given knowledge, not participate in its creation.

In order for learning on the module to become more effective it was important to work with rather than against the ways students perceived learning and participated in it. That is to say, it was not useful to continue to act on the assumption that students had the same understanding as we did of the function of seminars. Nor would it be profitable merely to tell students in more detail of the value of seminar discussion and its importance to their progress and hope that their understanding would eventually align itself with ours. Given the students' desire to be provided with the 'right answer', this would continue to produce a performance of learning rather than learning itself -a negotiation in which both the quality and the quantity of students' participation would be directly proportionate to its affirmation as 'right' by the tutor. In other words, it is precisely this desire to be taught that renders it essential for students to find the relevance of group discussion for themselves rather than have the justification imposed upon them. It is only by doing this that students will be able to reassess both their role as learners and the stake they hold in the learning process. By the same token, we, as tutors, have had to reassess our role vis-a-vis student learning and the way we enact it within the context of the prevailing expectations held by students of what that role entailed in relation to their learning.

Embedding autonomy: a case study

The following section discusses the practical measures that were implemented on the module Studying Media Studies precisely in order to counteract the performance of learning (see Figure 1). It is worth noting at this point that this was a new year-long module designed to replace two single-semester modules, 'Introduction to Mass Media' and 'Culture and Consumption'. Both of these modules were delivered through a one-hour weekly lecture, one-hour seminar sessions and individual tutorials. Of course, a key benefit of replacing two short modules with one longer one was that the assessment strategy could be rationalized and made more coherent. Moreover, assessment could be specifically linked to the learning and teaching practices we were introducing on the new module. The linking of learning tasks with assessment in this way is crucial insofar as there is now a significant amount of research that suggests, 'assessment is the most significant prompt for learning' (Boud, 1995: 37) and the principle way of 'getting students to spend time on task' (Gibbs, 1999: 45). Indeed, the success of the learning strategy, and thus reading groups themselves, is dependent on students actually participating in them in meaningful and constructive ways. The assessment strategy for the module, therefore, is designed to be both incremental, in the sense that the knowledge and skills required to complete each element develop out of previous elements, and is linked to reading group activities in ways that are clearly visible to students. It is comprised of three separate assignments: a 'Glossary of Key Words' in which students demonstrate comprehension of key concepts; an 'Article Report' which requires students to apply a key concept in a delimited context; and an 'Essay' in which students use and critique a range of key concepts.

In practical terms, as module tutors the first action we took in implementing this revised learning and teaching strategy was to physically remove ourselves from the seminar room. This was important as the regular presence of a tutor allowed a pattern of behaviour to become established whereby students sought advice, and thus avoided discussion, or sought confirmation that merely performing learning was acceptable. By taking the tutor out of the situation, students had to take far greater responsibility for their own learning. Absenting ourselves from the immediate context of the classroom, however, was only one part of the strategy for arresting dependence and addressing the development of student autonomy. Indeed, simply 'not being there', although crucial, would facilitate neither meaningful group discussion nor any of the critical skills of academic reading, analysis and critique which such discussions are predicated on. Likewise, it would not be reasonable to expect students to realize the importance of these skills without input from tutors. Therefore, we designed a range of interrelated learning activities to encourage students to adequately prepare for their group discussions and develop their skills-base.

A C T I V E L E A R N I N G I N H I G H E R E D U C A T I O N 6(
First, at the very beginning of the module students were allocated to a reading group -a group of approximately six students who would work together for the entire academic year. Each group had a timetabled space in which to meet for one hour each week. In other words, what had previously been a venue in which a single seminar group met was now a slot in which three or four reading groups would meet simultaneously. Tutors would not be involved in any regular or predetermined way in these sessions, but students were informed both that tutors would 'drop in' from time to time and that appointments were always available during this time for group tutorials. Groups were encouraged to also meet outside of their timetabled slot and to sit and work together during the weekly lecture in order to promote the development of group identity. In addition, each group was provided with private 'group space' on Blackboard (the university's virtual learning environment), which enabled them to access a group discussion board as well as send emails and swap files between themselves. In these ways, then, while tutors were not actively running group sessions, the seminar time remained structured, channels for continued discussion had been facilitated, and tutor support was provided.

Second, partly in response to the students' desire for both the delivery of content and further explication of it, and partly as a way of interacting with reading groups but not in the context of a seminar, the weekly lecture slot was extended from one hour to two to allow more flexible ways of teaching. This move not only made possible the inclusion of group workshop activities within the lecture programme, but also provided space in which students could be introduced to aspects of the learning and teaching literature to inform and contextualize their learning practices. Indeed, lecture/workshops were built into the teaching programme which addressed such topics as deep and surface learning, the role and use of feedback in student learning, and the reading of academic articles. The lecture programme, therefore, had now been developed in such a way that the teaching of learning skills was embedded alongside the teaching of disciplinary knowledge. In addition, tutors attended the initial reading group sessions to work with students to both reinforce the notion of learning practice introduced in the lectures and suggest ways in which such ideas might inform their group work. In other words, not only was it made explicit to students that a significant value was placed on the skills of learning rather than just the content of learning, but a mode of group working between students and tutors was established that avoided the culture of dependency that had previously characterized the seminar experience.

Third, a range of learning materials was provided for students to both structure individual students' independent study time and facilitate group work. A series of set weekly readings formed the centre of these materials, supported by worksheets designed to give students both an intellectual framework for their reading and the opportunity to develop the critical skills needed to both use and critique the ideas they encounter in this reading. Indeed, students are explicitly required to demonstrate these skills in subsequent assessment events. And, if we accept Rust's proposition that 'students are likely to take a strategic approach to their studies, and in general only seriously engage with learning tasks if they are going to be assessed, with marks attached' (Rust, 2002: 153), then integrating assessment with the activity of learning helps to validate this activity as strategic and thus a worthwhile way for students to spend their time.

None of this is to suggest that the use of reading groups is unproblematic, nor that they are free from limitations. Nor, for that matter, is it to suggest that they are the only way, or even necessarily the best way, of addressing student autonomy. For the method one chooses to teach autonomy, if it is to be successful, must be tailored to the specificities of the disciplinary context. Moreover, success itself is difficult to measure and, like all teaching methods, reading groups do not work equally well for all students. Indeed, removing the tutor from the immediate context of the seminar discussion can initially be unsettling for staff as well as students. Most obviously, it disrupts one of the key mechanisms we tend to use for monitoring student attendance and participation. One of the things we found most difficult in this process was 'not knowing' if any constructive work was taking place, or even if any work was taking place at all. However, in resisting the urge to constantly be seen to be 'checking up' on the groups, we developed other ways of monitoring aspects of what was happening on the module. For example, the use of Blackboard allowed us to track the use of learning materials and levels of participation in virtual discussions. By the same token, we adapted our own practices within the lecture delivery to accommodate more interaction between ourselves and the students which enabled us to get a weekly snapshot of how groups were working and give us the chance to intervene where necessary.

Conclusions

The range of measures discussed in this article was implemented in order to disturb the 'mindset that all the material . . . [that students] need to complete the unit successfully will be provided in lectures, tutorials and lecture notes' (respondent cited in Waters, 2003: 299). We wanted our students to learn that, as Barnett argues, 'the passive assimilation of knowledge has no place in higher education' (Barnett, 1990: 154) and, moreover, that active learning is essential to achievement insofar as it forms part of the criteria by which their work is assessed and graded. The assessment for the module was incremental both in terms of the skills and it demanded and the degree of autonomy required in its execution. Of equal importance, this shift in expectations was explicitly reflected in the marking criteria and process of grading the work. As such, we want to stress that in order to destabilize the way of thinking that is focused around teachers teaching and students being taught -a model from which learning becomes entirely evacuated -the benefits of autonomous learning have to be explicitly demonstrated to students through our own practices. In other words, the role and skills of autonomy were not allowed to remain submerged beneath a performance of learning. There were two distinct but related considerations involved in bringing them to the surface. Firstly, we could not continue to simply tell students, however precisely we did so, that they should become autonomous learners. Rather we enabled them through modifying the emphasis of the module's learning, teaching and assessment strategy to acquire and develop the skills needed to learn successfully and autonomously. Secondly, the development of these skills was rewarded. Indeed, by both enabling and persuading students to relinquish their habits of learned dependence, which we should remember are hard habits to break, the goal of autonomous learning became meaningful and desirable.

What we have discussed here, of course, is simply one way of addressing the problematic nature of autonomous learning in higher education. The issues raised, however, have wider implications than this single instance. In order to move beyond what Yorke has termed 'learned dependence' (Yorke, 2003: 489) it is essential to establish a culture of independent study at the first possible opportunity. Moreover, establishing such a culture has to be an active process. Students need to learn to become autonomous learners and they need to be made aware that levels of achievement at university are directly related to the development of the skills of autonomous learning. This observation, of course, has implications for the execution of our role as teachers in higher education. The relationship between learning practices and levels of academic achievement must not only be coherently articulated, but also clearly visible to students in the ways we assess and grade their work. Most obviously, if we expect our students to be able to work autonomously -and if we continue to cite autonomy as perhaps the key marker of 'graduateness' -then it ought to follow that its significance is evident in our own practices. As a priority, here, we would argue that autonomous learning should be explicitly conceived as a skill that can be acquired in the same way as other academic skills and that practices which encourage the development of this skill must be embedded within the learning, teaching and assessment strategy of our degree programmes. This means, above all, that the skills required to become an effective autonomous learner must be taught in the same way that we teach other generic and discipline-specific skills. To leave the development of autonomy in our students to chance seems to us foolhardy: autonomous learning is as much a skill as learning to drive -it must be taught, it requires practice, and it is assessed against specific criteria. Unless they are taught how to take the wheel for themselves, learner students, like learner drivers, may be at risk. And there are very good reasons why we do not allow learner drivers out on the road by themselves.

Figure 1

 1 Figure 1 Changes in teaching, learning and assessment practices