Journal articles on the topic 'TAFE teachers'

The Queensland Department of Education has instigated, planned and supported, over a significant period of time, various programs to enable Aboriginal and Islander entrants to become trained and qualified teachers. Such programs have included for example:● teacher training which did not lead to a formal teacher qualification, such as the Aboriginal/Islander course provided at the then North Brisbane {Kedron Park) CAE;● the Associate Diploma of Education at Cairns College of TAFE, which led to employment as an Aboriginal/Islander Community Teacher;● the programs with enclave support, (such as those at Mt Gravatt CAE, Kelvin Grove CAE, James Cook University Aboriginal and Islander Teacher Education Program, AITEP), leading to a Diploma of Teaching or further awards, with full teacher registration.

Purpose – The purpose of this paper is to explore how fictional narratives help us envision ways of constructing the identity as teaching professionals. Furthermore, how encounters with fictional narratives and the absorption of their structures and ideologies can dictate how the author perceive ourselves, and others. Design/methodology/approach – The pedagogy of teacher education relies heavily on narratised models of instruction such as Critical Reflective Practice (CRP). The purposefully traumatic aspects of CRP are designed to trouble the sense of self. I suggest here that this creates a period of subjective vulnerability in the pre-service teacher practitioner. Findings – This paper examines the response to traumatic learning events focusing on how literary tropes and their encompassing ideologies become a powerful yet regressive force in restabilising the professional identity and galvanising the personal subjectivity. Research limitations/implications – Data for this paper has been drawn from the Teaching Men research project that focused on a cohort of male teachers, from Australia and the UK working within TAFE/FE environments all of whom had recently become teachers. Originality/value – This paper addresses a parallel concern: at a point of subjective vulnerability, a term coined as part of this analysis, how do fictional representations of male teachers impact on the construction and practice of teachers in the development of their professional identities? And how can the author devise a structure with which to interpret such activity?

There is a general need for research in Australia on whether the support services provided in schools prove useful for students with disabilities (Datta, 2015; O’Rourke & Houghton, 2006), especially students with vision impairment. This qualitative study aimed to provide insights into the influence of the support services delivered in South Australian schools for students with vision impairments’ problem-solving skills, and their family, social, and academic lives. Semistructured, open-ended interviews were conducted with 14 students with vision impairment (8 adolescents and 6 adults), 5 parents, and 4 teachers. Participating students’ age ranged between 15 and 18 years for the adolescent students and between 19 and 25 years for the adult students. Adolescent students were enrolled in mainstream and specialist secondary schools, and adult students were enrolled in vocational courses at TAFE Institutes. The data reflected a range of viewpoints from which to examine the problem under investigation. The interview responses from the 3 groups of participants revealed that the support services positively influenced students’ problem-solving skills, their social behaviour, and their academic learning. Although most students with vision impairment felt that the support services had no influence on their family relationships, their parents and teachers considered it had helped in the students’ family lives. The interviews were particularly useful in evaluating the support services that students with vision impairment received. These findings have implications for teachers, special educators, policymakers, and a range of professionals in the education and special education sector in highlighting modifications and improvements in the support services for these students. This study has provided a limited basis for generalising to any wider population beyond the participants themselves due to the study's small sample size and diversity of educational settings.

The study is aimed at finding out how teachers of St. John Bosco’s College of Education, Ghana focus the pragmatic intent of teacher written feedback comments on students’ project draft essays. Drawing on Ferris, Pezone, Tade, and Tinti (1997), Discourse Analytical Model for teacher written commentary and key concepts like “written feedback commentary” and “feedback,” the study, which was essentially a case study, and a descriptive survey, randomly and purposively focused on a sample of 336 comments from 21students’ project drafts of the 2012 academic year in St. John Bosco’s College of Education. The study revealed that teachers of St. John Bosco’s College of Education employed the pragmatic intent (directive type) of ‘make suggestion/request’, as a way of getting students to rework their project drafts. The study raises some implications for writing instruction, theory and analyses of teacher written feedback commentary.

Courseware delivery for the Remote Area Teacher Education Program (RATEP) began in 1991, a year in which the Cairns College of TAFE successfully employed multimedia technology and interactive learning materials at both Aurukun and Hopevale communities.

The purpose of this study was to review the reported literature regarding Arabic language programmes. It gives an overview of the historical background of Teaching Arabic as a Foreign Language (TAFL) programmes. It also provided a brief description of the Arabic language and its characteristics, and how they might cause some difficulties. Specifically, the diglossic phenomenon in Arabic programmes and how Arabic programmes deal with diglossia was discussed. Pedagogical factors, such as the lack of clearly articulated objectives in TAFL, the lack of coordination between Arabic programmes, the lack of experienced and qualified teachers, the shortage of materials and resources and insufficient presentation of Arab culture in (TAFL) programmes were also discussed.

The purpose of this study was to review the reported literature regarding Arabic language programmes. It gives an overview of the historical background of Teaching Arabic as a Foreign Language (TAFL) programmes. It also provided a brief description of the Arabic language and its characteristics, and how they might cause some difficulties. Specifically, the diglossic phenomenon in Arabic programmes and how Arabic programmes deal with diglossia was discussed. Pedagogical factors, such as the lack of clearly articulated objectives in TAFL, the lack of coordination between Arabic programmes, the lack of experienced and qualified teachers, the shortage of materials and resources and insufficient presentation of Arab culture in (TAFL) programmes were also discussed.

Purpose: The purpose of the study was to examine the predictability of instructional quality on trainee-teacher effectiveness in the delivery of Distance Education (DE) in Ghana, focusing on College of Distance Education, University of Cape Coast (CoDE, UCC).Methodology: The descriptive survey design was adopted with a quantitative approach. Total population involving 1,837 CoDE course tutors and all CoDE students at 76 study centres offering education programmes totaling 51,456 were used. The sample size for the study was 726, made up of 397 trainee-teachers and 329 course tutors. The proportionate stratified random sampling approach was employed to select respondents who completed the questionnaire instruments. The statistical analysis software tool known as the PASW Version 21.0, the Test Analysis for Surveys (TAFS) was used for analysing the data. Data on the research question was analysed using linear multiple regression analysis.Findings: The results revealed that pedagogical quality and quality evaluation were the dimensions of instructional quality that most significantly predicted trainee-teacher effectiveness. Again, whenever trainee-teachers demonstrate high level of competence in terms of subject matter knowledge, lesson presentation skills, class management and control and lesson note preparation, they increase the extent to which their level of teaching meets pre-specified standards and goals of the college.Unique contribution to theory, practice and policy: It was recommended that management of CoDE, UCC should put in place appropriate support services in all the study centres to guide both tutors and students on appropriate instructional behaviour

Abstract. This study aims to describe the application of character education based on local wisdom in schools. The method used is descriptive qualitative with a case study approach. Data obtained through in-depth interviews, participant observation, and document study. The results show that the implementation of character education can be done by: (1) integration in learning subjects, (2) interaction in the school environment between teachers and students and students with students, and (3) role models from teachers in the school environment, and (4) ) self-development activities. The value of local wisdom applied, namely Siri means: shame, tabe 'means excuse me and sorry, sipakatau means humanizing each other, sipakainge means reminding each other so that each individual should avoid deviant actions, and sipakalebbi means respecting and praising one another.

This research is focused on the interaction of teachers and students of madrasah stanwiyah in the classroom, the purpose of this study is to know the pattern of learning interaction takes place. Between teachers and students in class that occurred in Madrasah Stnawiyah. Especially in the process of learning Arabic language, which is located in MTs. Barabai. The method of reseach is field research. In terms of theoretical, the results of this study is expected to be a reference, to know how good interaction between teachers and students so as to enhance the activity of learning in the classroom.

Formålet med artiklen er at fremlægge og diskutere erfaringer med, hvordan der kan etableres en designfagstradition i universitetsundervisningen på humaniora, hvor håndværk og vision kan forenes. I artiklen diskuteres underviserens udfordringer med at flytte den humaniorastuderende fra analyse til design, at tage afsæt i praksis, og at forstå projektarbejde i et spændingsfelt mellem vision og håndværk. Der reflekteres endvidere over underviserens mulighed for at klarlægge undervisningens faglige og forskningsmæssige forankring. Artiklens omdrejningspunkt består i en diskussion af spændingsfeltet mellem designfag og videnskabsfag. Udgangspunktet for diskussionen er forfatternes undervisning i to kurser – Kulturformidling og Learning and teaching with digital media - som blev gennemført på Arts, Aarhus Universitet, i perioden 2011-2014. The establishment of design-disciplines within a university Arts curriculum is the focus of this article. The study highlights the challenges faced by teachers when their Arts students moved from an analysis-centered to a design-centered approach. This meant the students had to switch from taking practice as a point of departure, to understanding how project-based work relies on a mixture of vision and craftsmanship. The article reflects on how the teacher can explain the connection between her/his teaching and research in the subject area, and the inherent tension between design and science. The authors base their discussion on two courses at the Faculty of Arts, Aarhus University that ran between 2011-2014. These were titled ‘Culture and Communication’ and ‘Learning and Teaching with Digital Media’.

AbstractSince 1990, the School of Education at James Cook University has produced and delivered a successful offcampus Bachelor of Education for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people in their home communities through the Remote Area Teacher Education Program (RATEP):A community-based teacher education program for Indigenous peoples. This paper examines five key areas. One is the intersystemic management structure that has majority representation from Indigenous communities and peak education bodies as well as representation from the other three stakeholders: Education Queensland, the School of Education at James Cook University and the Tropical North Queensland Institute of Technical and Further Education (TAFE). A second area is RATEP’s innovative use of information and communication technologies in teaching and learning. A third theme is its dynamic evolution from (a) two dedicated RATEP sites in the Torres Strait to 12 sites throughout Queensland; (b) geographically remote sites to a combination of remote, rural, and urban sites; (c) a principle where students gather at a dedicated site with its own teachercoordinator to clusters where a number of students are living in different locations and the coordinator travels between these; (d) movement of sites from location to location depending on need and demand; and (e) a fixed program to a highly flexible one that allows multiple entry and exit points, including honours. A fourth area is the critical insights generated from research into the program by Indigenous and non-Indigenous researchers. The final theme is the retention of graduates from RATEP within the classroom and their promotion into the administrative and advisory teaching sectors.

Amin Ahsan Islahi (1903-97), an illustrious Islamic scholar from India, is the author of the Urdu-language Tadabbur-e-Qur’an, the first tafs¥r of its kind. In it, he has applied a unique method of interpreting the revealed words that, he rightly claims, he actually borrowed from his great teacher `Abd al-Hamid al-Farahi (1861-1930). According to him, this methodology leads to the unity of meaning and hence to the unity of thought. Its salient feature is what he refers to as “coherence in the Qur’an” (na`m al-Qur’OEn). Identifying the coherence between the Qur’an’s verses enables the commentator to establish cohesion among apparently conflicting passages within a s´rah. Coherence is not merely an academic witticism (la‹¥fah `ilm¥yah); rather, it is an intellectual endeavor (al-sa`y¥ al-`ilm¥) based on the Qur’anic principle of deliberation (al-tadabbur) to apply certain rules to the text in order to unfold the truth enshrined in the divine statements. Islahi’s work is a methodological and practical example of na`m al-Qur’OEn. This paper seeks to introduce his methodology in detail as applied in his work with a view to formulating its system of practical application in tafs¥r.

Amin Ahsan Islahi (1903-97), an illustrious Islamic scholar from India, is the author of the Urdu-language Tadabbur-e-Qur’an, the first tafs¥r of its kind. In it, he has applied a unique method of interpreting the revealed words that, he rightly claims, he actually borrowed from his great teacher `Abd al-Hamid al-Farahi (1861-1930). According to him, this methodology leads to the unity of meaning and hence to the unity of thought. Its salient feature is what he refers to as “coherence in the Qur’an” (na`m al-Qur’OEn). Identifying the coherence between the Qur’an’s verses enables the commentator to establish cohesion among apparently conflicting passages within a s´rah. Coherence is not merely an academic witticism (la‹¥fah `ilm¥yah); rather, it is an intellectual endeavor (al-sa`y¥ al-`ilm¥) based on the Qur’anic principle of deliberation (al-tadabbur) to apply certain rules to the text in order to unfold the truth enshrined in the divine statements. Islahi’s work is a methodological and practical example of na`m al-Qur’OEn. This paper seeks to introduce his methodology in detail as applied in his work with a view to formulating its system of practical application in tafs¥r.

Corpora are an important resource for both teaching and research. Arabic lacks sufficient resources in this field, so a research project has been designed to compile a corpus, which represents the state of the Arabic language at the present time and the needs of end-users. This report presents the result of a survey of the needs of teachers of Arabic as a foreign language (TAFL) and language engineers. The survey shows that a wide range of text types should be included in the corpus. Overall, our survey confirms our view that existing corpora are too narrowly limited in source-type and genre, and that there is a need for a freely-accessible corpus of contemporary Arabic covering a broad range of text-types. We have collected and published an initial version of the Corpus of Contemporary Arabic (CCA) to meet these design issues. The CCA is freely downloadable via WWW from http://www.comp.leeds.ac.uk/arabic.

The researcher has noticed a manifestation of the incident that most teachers from the middle school at the SMP Babul Maghfirah use traditional educational means in the process of teaching Arabic, especially for reading skill, and read and translate the material from the textbook until they need a long opportunity to repeat the reading text, and the text may read a dispute about exits The letters, and on this it is difficult for students to focus, hear and understand the contents of the reading story what the teacher read from the textbook, because many of the students are graduates of the SDN primary school and they did not learn Arabic before, as well as they still do not control the many vocabulary. Therefore, the researcher wants to do research on: Development of Reading Subject Matter Based on Interactive Multimedia (Research and Development at SMP Babul Maghfirah in Aceh Besar). The research aims to develop Reading Subject Matter Based on Interactive Multimedia and its effects on students. The research method referred to research and development used the method named ADDIE. The research population includes all students of Babul Maghfirah in Aceh Besar, 28 students from the second grade (D), 432 students in total. The researcher has conducted interviews, questionnaires, and tests as research tools. This research aims to develop interactive Multimedia that could give more positive benefits for students based on five steps; analysis, design, development, application, and evaluation. As a result, the researcher has successfully created a new interactive Multimedia of reading subject matter. It also has received a positive score, in learning materials and in media 100% (Special). The application has effectively contributed to the development of students' reading ability based on the calculation (ttest), which is bigger than the table's results (ttable) or 7.76 > 2.05 and 2.77.

Denne artikel diskuterer udviklingen af adjunktpædagogikum inden for rammerne af AU’s internationaliseringsstrategi 2014 hvori det forudses at uddannelsernes indhold skal have en international dimension, og at der skal tages højde for de studerendes sproglige og kulturelle forskellighed i undervisningen. Det nuværende adjunktpædagogikum i to spor – et dansk og et engelsk – beskrives og diskuteres. På baggrund heraf fremlægges og diskuteres et forslag til et alternativ der i højere grad kunne tage højde for internationaliseringsstrategiens intentioner og fremme samarbejde mellem adjunkterne på tværs af deres sproglige og kulturelle forskelligheder. På denne måde ville adjunktpædagogikum i højere grad afspejle de vilkår som gælder for universitetets uddannelser i det hele taget, og styrke inklusionen af alle adjunkter på universitetet. This article discusses the development of the teacher training programme for assistant professors within the framework of Aarhus University’s Internationalisation Strategy 2014. This strategy outlines the need for the curricula to have an international dimension, and for delivery to take into account the students’ linguistic and cultural differences. At present the English and Danish tracks are treated separately in the teacher training programme, but this article proposes an alternative model that could take into consideration the intentions of the internationalisation strategy to a much higher degree and promote collaboration among the assistant professors across linguistic and cultural differences. In this way, the teacher training programme would be able to reflect the conditions that determine the study programmes offered by the university and strengthen the inclusion of all assistant professors at the university.

<p>這項研究主要調查台灣非英語系主修的大學生英語閱讀焦慮，英語自我效能以及閱讀能力等三者之間的關係。本研究對象為209名非英語系的大三學生。此次研究採用兩份問卷，外語閱讀焦慮問卷和英語學習自我效能問卷，以及多益閱讀測驗來了解這三項變數之間的關係。研究者在兩份問卷各加入開放式問題，以了解學習者對自身英語學習自我效能和英語閱讀焦慮的認知。結果顯示，學生英語學習自我效能與閱讀能力之間的關係呈正相關，但與英語閱讀焦慮之間則是負相關。另外，學生英語閱讀自我效能和英語學習自我效能呈現高度相關。然而，英語閱讀焦慮與不同程度的閱讀能力並無任何關聯。就閱讀焦慮的因素而言，大多數學生在閱讀陌生的詞彙和句子結構時都會經歷閱讀焦慮。學生英語學習自我效能越高者，在閱讀理解上的表現則愈佳。而閱讀能力在中間的學生，其英語學習自我效能和閱讀焦慮則呈現顯著差異的負相關。總而言之，這項研究增加對於非英語系主修學生在英語學習自我效能以及閱讀焦慮認知上的了解，以及這些因素在英語閱讀能力上產生的影響，同時提供語言教師非英語系主修學生的閱讀焦慮來源。教學建議則提供教師未來於課堂參考，以有效提升學生的英語學習自我效能及降低閱讀焦慮。</p> <p>&nbsp;</p><p>EFL learners’ reading performances can be greatly influenced by affective factors, such as anxiety and self-efficacy. This study investigates the effects of non-English major EFL learners’ reading anxiety and overall-English-learning self-efficacy on their reading proficiency. 209 non-English majors participated in the study. Two questionnaires, the Foreign Language Reading Anxiety Scale and the Questionnaire of English Self-Efficacy, and a TOEIC reading subtest were utilized to examine the relationship between the three variables. Open-ended questions at the end of two questionnaires were added to obtain learners’ perceptions of overall-English-learning self-efficacy and reading anxiety. Results showed that the relationship between overall-English-learning self-efficacy, reading self-efficacy, and reading proficiency was positive respectively whereas that between overall-English-learning self-efficacy and anxiety was negative, particularly for the students in the middle group. Reading anxiety, however, was not correlated with reading proficiency at different levels. Students had the highest level of reading self-efficacy when comparing to the self-efficacy of other language skills. They mostly experienced reading anxiety when reading unfamiliar vocabulary and sentence structures. To conclude, this study can be of importance in understanding the relationship between the three factors and provide language teachers with non-English major students’ sources of reading anxiety. Pedagogical implications are provided for language teachers’ future references.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p>

MIMBAR PENDIDIKAN: Jurnal Indonesia untuk Kajian Pendidikan (Indonesian Journal for Educational Studies). This journal, with ISSN 2527-3868 (print) and 2503-457X (online), was firstly published on March 11, 2016, by UPI (Indonesia University of Education) Press in Bandung and orgnized by the Lecturers of UPI Journal Developer Team. The MIMBAR PENDIDIKAN is a new version journal from the old journal with the similar name that was published since 1995 to 2005. This journal is dedicated not only for Indonesian scholars who concern about educational studies, but also welcome to the scholars of Southeast Asian countries and around the world who care and share related to the educational studies in general. The MIMBAR PENDIDIKAN journal is published twice a year i.e. every March and September.Manila, Philippines: March 30, 2020.Bert Jazmin Tuga, Ph.D.Guest Editor of MIMBAR PENDIDIKAN Journal for March 2020's Edition in Bandung, West Java, Indonesia; and President of PNU (Philippine Normal University), the National Center for Teacher Education, 1000 Taft Avenue, Manila 1000, Philippines. E-mail: tuga.bj@pnu.edu.ph

This study examined the impact of Computer Assisted Language Learning (CALL) on Korean TAFE (Technical and Further Education) college students in an English as a Foreign Language (EFL) reading classroom in terms of their perceptions of learning environment and their reading performance. The study compared CALL and traditional reading classes over one semester by measuring students’ reading performance. A group of 74 first year English major students were divided evenly into two classes. Both groups were taught by the same teacher and covered the same topics in their weekly two-hour reading lessons. A reading comprehension test was given at the beginning and the end of the semester to measure the students’ performance. A written survey was also administered at the end of the semester. Classroom observations and group interviews with students supplemented the data obtained from the surveys. Analysis of Covariance (ANCOVA) was used for the performance test to explore the differences between the two classes while statistically controlling for the pre-test (covariate). The questionnaires were analyzed by a principle component factor analysis, a repeated-measure ANOVA and a discriminant analysis whereas the interviews with students were analyzed by a content analysis. Students’ performances in the pre-test and the post-test were not significantly different between the two classes. However, the students in the CALL-based English class were more positive in their perceptions of their learning environment than were those in the traditional English class. This study shows that computer technology had a positive impact on students’ perceptions of their learning environment, especially in relation to learning materials and tasks, and with regard to interaction and collaboration with the tutor and other students.

Studerende på videregående uddannelser forventes at deltage aktivt i undervisningen og tage ansvar for egen læring. Alligevel oplever undervisere ofte, at studerende er meget tilbageholdende i timerne. Dette studie undersøger, hvilken roller normer spiller for studenteraktivitet. Tolv studerende blev interviewet to gange i løbet af et semester. Det viste sig, at normer havde en stor adfærdsregulerende rolle, ligesom det viste sig, at der var en betydelig forskel mellem udtalte og uudtalte normer. Den observation, der overraskede os mest, var, at der var meget snævre rammer for legitim delta­gelse på holdtimerne, mens der var meget vide rammer for ikke-del­ta­gel­se. Disse præliminære resultater kalder på en diskussion af, hvordan normen om ansvar for egen læring fortolkes og praktiseres af universitetsstuderende. The aim of Danish universities is to encourage students to become active, independent, and responsible learners; yet, university teachers often encounter students that are very reluctant to participate in discussions. This study examines how norms influence student engagement in classes. Twelve students were interviewed twice during their second semester. The study suggests that norms regulate behaviour and furthermore the study uncovered a demarcation between spoken and unspoken norms. To our surprise, we found there to be strict boundaries for legitimate participation in discussion, while there was a high tolerance for non-participation. These results – although preliminary – call for a discussion of how the tenets of independence and responsibility are conceived by students.

The Board of Trustees of the Negro Rural School Fund convened in the office of the president of the United States on December 14, 1911. The mission of the fund was to assist Southern black schools, supplying black supervising teachers to rural areas.1President William Howard Taft presided over the meeting, which included members from banking, industry, philanthropy, higher education, and the clergy, demonstrating the importance of associated action in policy and political development in the early twentieth century.2These elite reformers hoped to guide policymaking in education reform, and their work was just one part of a far-reaching agenda for education in the Jim Crow South, based on the premise that public schooling was important to a strong national state.3Yet, it was difficult for elite actors to implement national policy goals in state and local areas, particularly for education. Local control was an important characteristic of American schooling, and Southern education reform was a particularly complicated terrain, dominated by rural areas committed to states’ rights, local control, and the racial state.4While the fund's trustees hoped to direct efforts from their lofty White House venue, foundation efficacy required extensive collaboration with organizations and actors across the South. This work, referred to here asinterstitial collaboration, included a set of initiatives tailored to state and local regions, supported by cooperative relationships between governmental and nongovernmental organizational entities and with citizens across the political spectrum.

By the waning years of the 1940s America had lost much of what remained of its postwar optimism as fears of Communism came to dominate the national political conversation. Left-leaning citizens had particular cause for disillusionment as politicians continued to trample many vestiges of New Deal programs and ideals in their rightward trek. The passage of the antilabor Taft-Hartley Act in 1947 and Progressive Party presidential candidate Henry Wallace's abysmal failure at the polls in the 1948 election hammered more nails into the coffin of leftwing activism. What ultimately caused the Old Left to retreat from mainstream political discourse was, of course, the new ideological war that loomed on the horizon. While U.S. foreign policy focused on containing Communism abroad, local and federal governlnent agencies and civilian vigilante groups rallied to fight suspected communists at home, Government agencies and private organizations compiled lists of alleged subversives, such asRed Channels: The Report of Communist Influence in Radio and Televisionthat the right-wing publicationCounterattackreleased in 1950. The attacks on those in the media and government were well documented, as news sources reported the trials of iconic groups like the Hollywood Ten and televised the Army-McCarthy hearings. At the same time that anticommunists focused on rooting out subversives in the State Department, organized labor, and the entertainment industry, they also turned their attention to education. Many political leaders, both liberal and conservative, viewed education as the “key factor” in securing American victory in the Cold War; as a result, between the end of WWII and the 1960s, anticommunists devoted an unprecedented amount of scrutiny to public schools, administrators, and teachers.

DK resumé Det tværprofessionelle samarbejde mellem pædagoger og lærere i skolen begrebsliggøres på forskellig vis i danske uddannelsesbekendtgørelser til lærer- og pædagoguddannelsen fra 1986-2017. I artiklen analyseres tre varianter over det tværprofessionelle samarbejde i uddannelsesbekendtgørelsestekster, der læses som sammenvævede med velfærdssektorielle moderniserings-, professionaliserings- og reformprocesser. Analysen viser, at uddannelsesbekendtgørelserne fremskriver en tiltagende specialisering og differentiering af det tværprofessionelle samarbejde og betoner et stadig mere modsætningsfuldt og komplekst ansvar for lærere og pædagoger i det tværprofessionelle samarbejde. Det er et modsætningsfuldt ansvar for både at kende til og kommunikere egen og andres faglighed, forstå grænserne imellem professionerne og tage hensyn hertil, og bryde med de selvsamme grænser. Samtidig er det et komplekst ansvar, hvor professionerne både skal udvikle på samarbejdet og på betingelserne for samarbejdet. Ved at adressere det tværprofessionelle samarbejde som et midlertidigt resultat, tæt forbundet til velfærdsektorielle bevægelser, peger artiklen på, at professionernes kernebegreber ikke udvikles i et vakuum. Og artiklen viser, hvordan begrebsliggørelser af det tværprofessionelle samarbejde er med til at forme forståelser af, og betingelser for, professionernes fagligheder og samarbejdsobjekter. – Samtidig med, at betingelserne for samarbejdet justeres i velfærdsuddannelserne og velfærdsarbejdet, hvor stadig mere ambitiøse forhåbninger om hvad det tværprofessionelle kan løse af problemer, foldes ud. Abstract – UKIn this article I show three variations of the concept of interprofessional collaboration between teachers and pedagogues in schools, in the ministerial orders for the programmes for teachers and pedagogues from 1986-2017. The article analyses variations in the concept of interprofessional collaboration as closely entangled with concomitant tendencies and processes in the welfare sector. Through the analysis it is argued that the ministerial orders for the professional programmes have involved a continuous specialization and differentiation of interprofessional collaboration, and an intensified and contradictory responsibilization of the professionals for knowing about, and manifesting, their own expertise, and the expertise of others, understanding the boundaries between the professions and solving tasks in caring for these differences. – While they are expected to overcome these boundaries and innovate on their conditions for collaborating interprofessionally. By addressing the concept of interprofessional collaboration as closely entangled with concomitant processes and tendencies in the welfare state, the article argues that the core concepts of the professions are not made in a vacuum. Rather, the article shows how conceptualizations unfold – whilst conditions for collaborating are adjusted and contradictory responsibilities are developed, as welfare reforms unfold with increasingly complex ambitions towards what problems interprofessional collaboration might solve.

In 1971 and 1973 I carried out anthropological fieldwork in Kwahu-Tafo, a rural town of about 5,000 inhabitants on the Kwahu plateau in the Eastern Region of Ghana. The first research project was a case study of the family I was staying with; the second was on ideas and practices concerning sex and birth control. As usual in anthropological research, my attention was drawn to many other things around me. One of these was Highlife. This short essay discusses the texts of some Highlife songs, which intriguingly related to my experiences in the field.It was impossible not to be struck by the importance of Highlife in the dreariness of daily life in Ghana. In the evenings large groups of young people assembled in front of the local bar to dance and listen to Highlife, the sounds of which resounded over the town. Many of the youngsters sang the texts along with the music. The typically empty interior contrasted strangely with the crowd outside. They were attracted not only by the music but also by the light—the bar was the only place in town with electricity. And, of course, it was the place to meet members of the opposite sex. Women and children were present to sell bread, tea, fried plantains, and other snacks. Around 10 p.m. the bar usually stopped the music; the lights went off, and the people dispersed. I became curious to know what the songs were about. Although I had learned some Twi, I was not able to understand them, so I asked someone to translate one text for me. The content aroused my interest and I decided to collect more Highlife texts. Various people helped me: school pupils, teachers, university students, and others. After recording the songs I had them transcribed in Twi and then translated into English.

Denne artikel omhandler de personlige, sociale og følelsesmæssige krav, som stilles til politibetjente i dag. I artiklen undersøges hvilke kompetencekrav der stilles til Politiskolens ansøgere; hvordan de ønskede personlige kompetencer identificeres under optagelsen og opøves under uddannelsen, herunder hvorledes politistuderende bringer disse kompetencer i anvendelse i mødet med borgere. Videre belyser vi, hvordan kravet om empati forhandles og balanceres mod andre krav, samt hvordan belastninger i forbindelse med følelsesarbejde opleves og søges håndteret. I politiarbejdet gøres der meget ud af at skulle tage hensyn til politiets image, således at politibetjente strækker sig langt for at vise sig som tålmodige, venlige og hjælpsomme. Men hensynet til image udadtil kan blive understøttet af en vis barskhed backstage. Politibetjentene er udfordret på at være personlige i deres kommunikation (displayed emotions, med Hochschilds begreb) samtidigt med, at deres person (og felt emotions) skal holdes udenfor. Uniformen kommer til at fungere som en ”regnfrakke”, hvor forskellige typer af belastninger får lov til at prelle af. Artiklen bygger på dokumentanalyse, interviews med rekrutteringsansvarlige, undervisere og praktikkoordinatorer samt observation af studerende. Endvidere inddrages svar fra en spørgeskemaundersøgelse blandt politistuderende om disses oplevelser og håndteringer af følelsesmæssige krav og belastninger under deres praktikperioder. ENGELSK ABSTRACT: Lotte Bloksgaard and Annick Prieur: The Empathetic Police Officer: Police Students’ Handling Emotions at Work This article analyzes the personal, social and emotional demands on police officers today. It examines the requirements for entrance to police education: how personal suitability is identified at the entrance examination, and how this is trained during the education. This includes how police students use their skills in encounters with citizens. We also shed light on how the demand for empathy is negotiated and balanced in relation to other demands, and how strains in connection with emotional work are experienced and handled. In police work there is concern for the image of the police force, and this concern makes police officers go to length to show themselves as patient, friendly and ready to lend a hand. The concern for this image may be sustained, however, by a certain roughness backstage. Police officers are challenged by the requirement of being personal (displayed emotions, with Hochschild’s concept) at the same time as their own person (and their felt emotions) should be kept out of the work situation. The uniform serves as a ”rain coat” making different strains rebound. The article draws on document analysis, interviews with recruiters, teachers and practice term coordinators as well as observations of the students. In addition data from a survey among police students concerning their experiences and handling the emotional demands and strains are included. Keywords: police, police education, empathy, social skills, management of emotions, emotional strains.

Nahwu learning model in many educational institutions, including at islamic schools level, is still traditional based on theory of behaviorism in which students are passive in the learning process so that it affects students' low motivation and ability to apply the Nahwu theory learned to Arabic language skills. Therefore, Nahwu learning should be designed based on the interactive methode to make students more active in the learning process so that their learning motivation and outcomse can increase, especially to improve learning in science and social studies majors in reading text Arabics discourse by nahwu at Madrasah Ibtidaiyah 3 Kandangan Kediri. The research and development methode used the Borg and Gall development model. Produce the design of learning nahwu on high order the understanding text skills with concept maps, songs, and sentence of arabic games. And the results of the research: based on the evaluation of experts, the teacher and the students that the validity of the model is “very good” (94.03% and 91.47%) for the design expert, the book and the compiler of the result is the grammar expert “good” (82.85% and 80.71), 83 , 03% of the students, then the t-statistic result = 4,021 and the result from the t-cound found that the result = 1,998 at the 5% moral level, and 2,655 at the 1% level. And because the statistic result of 4,021 is greater than the result at the moral level 5%. Keywords: Development, Nahwu, Interactive Approach, The Sentence’s Of Arabic Language. ملخص نموذج تدريس النحو في كثير من التربوية بما في ذلك المستوى المدارسي الإسلامي لا يزال تقليديا القائم على النظرية السلوكية حيث أن موقف الطلبة غير متفاعلين في عملية التعليم والتعلم، حتى يؤثر إلى انخافض دافعية الطلبة وقدراتهم في تطبيق علوم النحو التي تمت دراستها لمهارتهم العربية. ثم لابد من أن يصمم تدريس النحو القائم على المدخل التفاعلي ي يكون الدارس أكثر تفاعلا في علمية التعليم والتعلم حتى ترفع دافعية الطلبة وتحصيلهم الدراسي، الأفضال ترقية فهم النص العربي للطلبة الأولى بقسم العلوم الطبعية والعلوم الإجتماعية بألة علم النحو في المدرسة الإسلامية الحكومية 3 كاندانجان كديري. يسخدم هذا البحث والتطوير نموذج تطوير Borg & Gall. وإنتاج تصميم تعليم النحو العربي بناء على مهارات فهم النصوص العربية بإستخدام جدوال النحو والغناء ولعبة النحو أولا. وأما نتائج البحث: بناء على تقييم الخبراء والمدرس ولطلبة أن صدق النموذج "جيد جدا" (94،03% و 91،47%) لخبير التصميم الكتاب ومعدو النتيجة خبير مادة النحو "جيد" (82،85% و 80،71) و 83،03% من الطلاب، ثم وجدت نتيجة t الإحصائ = 4,021 والنتيجة من t-table أن نتيجة = 1،998 في المستوى المعنوي 5%، و 2،655 في المستوى 1%. ولأنه نتيجة الإحصائي 4,021 أكبر من نتيجة في المستوى المعنوي 5%. الكلمات المفاتحية : تطوير، المادة النحوية، المدخل التفاعلي، جمال اللغة العربية

A recent trend in Australian education is the diversification of programme delivery outside institutions’ traditional sector of education, including delivery of bachelor degrees by some public vocational education and training institutions (known in Australia as technical and further education, or TAFE, institutes). The delivery of higher education programmes in non-traditional providers, such as TAFE institutes, has created significant challenges for teachers working in these settings. They work within a vocational education and training (VET) culture but confront the regulatory frameworks demanded of higher education providers. Scholarship is a particularly problematic issue because it has not been an expectation in VET providers but is a key feature in higher education. This article examines the emerging nature of scholarship in a TAFE institute offering higher education programmes. We report on an analysis of regulatory and quality assurance documentation, which begins to formalise the notion of ‘scholarship’ in VET. We then compare this emerging official definition with higher education TAFE teachers’ experience of scholarship using interviews. We argue that higher education teachers and their TAFE institutes are forming distinctive hybrid scholarly cultures and practices as they take on external expectations and navigate through existing orientations to industry, educational commitments to teaching and the absence of scholarly structures and values in TAFE.

<span>Good computer software lets a novice produce results quickly. The "Q" Instruction package was conceived at Adelaide University as a means to allow teachers without programming experience to generate Computer Assisted Learning (CAL) materials, or even allow lecturers to delegate this chore to their secretaries. It has keen a successful approach and found ready application at TAFE and CAE campuses as well as Universities. The "Q" instruction package which we have developed is now published Internationally by Elsevier-Biosoft (Cambridge UK).</span>

Die Frage nach der Qualifikation von Lehrkräften in puncto Diagnostik stand in den vergangenen Jahrzehnten wiederholt im Fokus bildungswissenschaftlicher und bildungspolitischer Diskussionen. Aktuell wird schulische Diagnostik insbesondere vor dem Hintergrund einer inklusiven Umgestaltung des Schulwesens verstärkt und durchaus kontrovers diskutiert. Der vorliegende Artikel eruiert Stellenwert und Konzeptualisierungen einer inklusionsorientierten Diagnostik. Unterschiedliche in der Literatur dargestellte Zugangsweisen zu einer Diagnostik in inklusiven Lernkontexten werden beschrieben und mit anderen Formen der Diagnostik in Bezug gesetzt. Die anschließend präsentierten empirischen Befunde eruieren den Stellenwert und das Verständnis diagnostischen Handelns unter 125 praktisch tätigen Lehrer*innen. Anhand von fünf Fallvignetten, die unterschiedliche Lernende in inklusiven Lernkontexten porträtierten, generierten die teilnehmenden Lehrpersonen Förderanregungen. Die zu Tage tretenden Auffassungen von Diagnostik in inklusiven Lernsettings werden diskutiert und mit theoretischen Konzeptualisierungen einer unterrichtsbegleitenden Diagnostik in Bezug gesetzt. Abstract Teacher qualification with respect to diagnostics has been in the focus of educational science and educational politics since several decades. Recently, there is an increasing interest but as well a growing controversy concerning diagnostics in inclusive education. Therefore, the present article investigates the relevance and heterogeneous conceptions of diagnostics for inclusive school settings. The text describes different approaches to inclusive diagnostics found in scientific literature and compares them to other forms of diagnostics. Subsequently, an empirical study is presented which analyses the perspectives of 125 teachers on diagnostic activities in inclusive classrooms. After reading five case vignettes that portrayed learners with special educational needs, the participants generated ideas to support the individual child. Their ideas about diagnostics in inclusive learning contexts are discussed and compared to theoretical conceptions (e.g. formative assessment).

Renowned as a reference book of Dante and Chaucer, Boethius’s Consolation of Philosopy occupies a peerless room in literary realm. Dante draws on the Boethian elements in his Vita Nuova, the Convivio and the Commedia. Among his other works, Chaucer’s making use of Boethius’s Consolation in Troilus and Criseyde has been well documented by Chaucerians. A work belonging to the time of the collapse of the Roman Empire, Consolation focuses on fate, fortune and free will and was translated into numerous languages even by Chaucer himself, Boece, and by an Anglo-Saxon king, Alfred the Great. Recognised as a philosophical treatise, this exceptional work embraces a patchwork of Aristotelian, Stoic, Epicurean, and neo-Platonic thoughts. Alongside its philosophical concerns, featuring Lady Philosophy as a guide, teacher and a doctor to Boethius, Consolation suggests the authority of women over men via the power of female discourse. Tracing the footsteps of Lady Philosophy, another female character, Chaucer’s Prudence in the Tale of Melibee consoles and guides her husband Melibee to goodness via her powerful discourse. Mostly treated as a dull text by critics, the Tale of Melibee is put in the category of the least favourite tales of Chaucer. In this paper, yet, I will focus on the tale with positive lens and read it as a text revealing the mastery and authority of women over men reversing the gender roles in a period well-known for its misogyny. Thereby, I assert that Prudence is an undisclosed Wife of Bath who raises the flag of victory in the everlasting power struggle between women and men. Finally, the paper comes to an end with an appeal for attraction in that women should take their share in real world alongside in fiction in accordance with Virginia Woolf’s argument in A Room of One’s Own.

This research is making use of descriptive qualitative method. The data are collected with the method of Sudaryanto (1993) that is listening and interviewing method, make use the technique of free listening and interviewing with a list of questionaire. This research makes use the theory of Burning (1970) and Koentjaraningrat (1980) to answer the first problem, and of Spradley (1979) and Casson (1981) to the second one. The result of this research shows that the consanguinal kinship terms are Baba (father), Tou (grandfather), Wos (ego’s father), Galawewe (father of ego’s grandfather), Karekare ( grandfather of Ego’s grandfather), Baay (ego’s mother), Nene (mother’s mother), Nenewos (mother of nene), Nenegalawewe (mother of nenewos), Nenekarekare (mother nenegalawewe). Nikmapin (wife of masculine ego), Nikmon (husband of feminine ego), Tamno (ego’s elder brother), Thano (ego’s younger brother), Damo 1 (ego’s sister), Damo 2 (ego’s brother), Mtu (ego’s child), Bbu (ego’s grandchild), Bbuwos (child of ego’s grandchild), Bbugalawewe (grandchild of ego’s grandchild), Bbukarekare (buyut dari ego). Afinal kinship terms: Nikmon (husband), Nikmapin (wife), Tafu (brother in-law), Hono (sister in-law), Iho (in-laws), Akmomon (wife’s father), Akmomapin (wife’s mother), Haliha (mother/father in-laws), Kanglolo (elder brother of father or mother), Kangkutu (younger brother of father or mother), Baaylolo (mother’s elder sister), Jojo (mother’s younger sister). Other kinship terms include: Jau (Allah), Kakang (guru ngaji), Engku (masculine teacher), Encik (feminine teacher). Keywords: kindship terms of East Makian language

“Human beings are not born once and for all on the day their mothers give birth to them [...] life obliges them over and over again to give birth to themselves.” (Garcia Marquez 165) Introduction The refugee experience is, at heart, one of rebirth. Just as becoming a new, distinctive being—biological birth—necessarily involves the physical separation of mother and infant, so becoming a refugee entails separation from a "mother country." This mother country may or may not be a recognised nation state; the point is that the refugee transitions from physical connectedness to separation, from insider to outsider, from endemic to alien. Like babies, refugees may have little control over the timing and conditions of their expulsion. Successful resettlement requires not one rebirth but multiple rebirths—resettlement is a lifelong process (Layton)—which in turn require hope, imagination, and energy. In rebirthing themselves over and over again, people who have fled or been forced from their homelands become both mother and child. They do not go through this rebirthing alone. A range of agencies and individuals may be there to assist, including immigration officials, settlement services, schools and teachers, employment agencies and employers, English as a Second Language (ESL) resources and instructors, health-care providers, counsellors, diasporic networks, neighbours, church groups, and other community organisations. The nature, intensity, and duration of these “midwives’” interventions—and when they occur and in what combinations—vary hugely from place to place and from person to person, but there is clear evidence that post-migration experiences have a significant impact on settlement outcomes (Fozdar and Hartley). This paper draws on qualitative research I did in 2012 in a regional town in New South Wales to illuminate some of the ways in which settlement aides ease, or impede, refugees’ rebirth as fully recognised and participating Australians. I begin by considering what it means to be resilient before tracing some of the dimensions of the resettlement process. In doing so, I draw on data from interviews and focus groups with former refugees, service providers, and other residents of the town I shall call Easthaven. First, though, a word about Easthaven. As is the case in many rural and regional parts of Australia, Easthaven’s population is strongly dominated by Anglo Celtic and Saxon ancestries: 2011 Census data show that more than 80 per cent of residents were born in Australia (compared with a national figure of 69.8 per cent) and about 90 per cent speak only English at home (76.8 per cent). Almost twice as many people identify as Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander as the national figure of 2.5 per cent (Australian Bureau of Statistics). For several years Easthaven has been an official “Refugee Welcome Zone”, welcoming hundreds of refugees from diverse countries in Africa and the Middle East as well as from Myanmar. This reflects the Department of Immigration and Citizenship’s drive to settle a fifth of Australia’s 13,750 humanitarian entrants a year directly in regional areas. In Easthaven’s schools—which is where I focused my research—almost all of the ESL students are from refugee backgrounds. Defining Resilience Much of the research on human resilience is grounded in psychology, with a capacity to “bounce back” from adverse experiences cited in many definitions of resilience (e.g. American Psychological Association). Bouncing back implies a relatively quick process, and a return to a state or form similar to that which existed before the encounter with adversity. Yet resilience often requires sustained effort and significant changes in identity. As Jerome Rugaruza, a former UNHCR refugee, says of his journey from the Democratic Republic of Congo to Australia: All the steps begin in the burning village: you run with nothing to eat, no clothes. You just go. Then you get to the refugee camp […] You have a little bread and you thank god you are safe. Then after a few years in the camp, you think about a future for your children. You arrive in Australia and then you learn a new language, you learn to drive. There are so many steps and not everyone can do it. (Milsom) Not everyone can do it, but a large majority do. Research by Graeme Hugo, for example, shows that although humanitarian settlers in Australia face substantial barriers to employment and initially have much higher unemployment rates than other immigrants, for most nationality groups this difference has disappeared by the second generation: “This is consistent with the sacrifice (or investment) of the first generation and the efforts extended to attain higher levels of education and English proficiency, thereby reducing the barriers over time.” (Hugo 35). Ingrid Poulson writes that “resilience is not just about bouncing. Bouncing […] is only a reaction. Resilience is about rising—you rise above it, you rise to the occasion, you rise to the challenge. Rising is an active choice” (47; my emphasis) I see resilience as involving mental and physical grit, coupled with creativity, aspiration and, crucially, agency. Dimensions of Resettlement To return to the story of 41-year-old Jerome Rugaruza, as related in a recent newspaper article: He [Mr Rugaruza] describes the experience of being a newly arrived refugee as being like that of a newborn baby. “You need special care; you have to learn to speak [English], eat the different food, create relationships, connections”. (Milsom) This is a key dimension of resettlement: the adult becomes like an infant again, shifting from someone who knows how things work and how to get by to someone who is likely to be, for a while, dependent on others for even the most basic things—communication, food, shelter, clothing, and social contact. The “special care” that most refugee arrivals need initially (and sometimes for a long time) often results in their being seen as deficient—in knowledge, skills, dispositions, and capacities as well as material goods (Keddie; Uptin, Wright and Harwood). As Fozdar and Hartley note: “The tendency to use a deficit model in refugee resettlement devalues people and reinforces the view of the mainstream population that refugees are a liability” (27). Yet unlike newborns, humanitarian settlers come to their new countries with rich social networks and extensive histories of experience and learning—resources that are in fact vital to their rebirth. Sisay (all names are pseudonyms), a year 11 student of Ethiopian heritage who was born in Kenya, told me with feeling: I had a life back in Africa [her emphasis]. It was good. Well, I would go back there if there’s no problems, which—is a fact. And I came here for a better life—yeah, I have a better life, there’s good health care, free school, and good environment and all that. But what’s that without friends? A fellow student, Celine, who came to Australia five years ago from Burundi via Uganda, told me in a focus group: Some teachers are really good but I think some other teachers could be a little bit more encouraging and understanding of what we’ve gone through, because [they] just look at you like “You’re year 11 now, you should know this” […] It’s really discouraging when [the teachers say] in front of the class, “Oh, you shouldn’t do this subject because you haven’t done this this this this” […] It’s like they’re on purpose to tell you “you don’t have what it takes; just give up and do something else.” As Uptin, Wright and Harwood note, “schools not only have the power to position who is included in schooling (in culture and pedagogy) but also have the power to determine whether there is room and appreciation for diversity” (126). Both Sisay and Celine were disheartened by the fact they felt some of their teachers, and many of their peers, had little interest in or understanding of their lives before they came to Australia. The teachers’ low expectations of refugee-background students (Keddie, Uptin, Wright and Harwood) contrasted with the students’ and their families’ high expectations of themselves (Brown, Miller and Mitchell; Harris and Marlowe). When I asked Sisay about her post-school ambitions, she said: “I have a good idea of my future […] write a documentary. And I’m working on it.” Celine’s response was: “I know I’m gonna do medicine, be a doctor.” A third girl, Lily, who came to Australia from Myanmar three years ago, told me she wanted to be an accountant and had studied accounting at the local TAFE last year. Joseph, a father of three who resettled from South Sudan seven years ago, stressed how important getting a job was to successful settlement: [But] you have to get a certificate first to get a job. Even the job of cleaning—when I came here I was told that somebody has to go to have training in cleaning, to use the different chemicals to clean the ground and all that. But that is just sweeping and cleaning with water—you don’t need the [higher-level] skills. Simple jobs like this, we are not able to get them. In regional Australia, employment opportunities tend to be limited (Fozdar and Hartley); the unemployment rate in Easthaven is twice the national average. Opportunities to study are also more limited than in urban centres, and would-be students are not always eligible for financial assistance to gain or upgrade qualifications. Even when people do have appropriate qualifications, work experience, and language proficiency, the colour of their skin may still mean they miss out on a job. Tilbury and Colic-Peisker have documented the various ways in which employers deflect responsibility for racial discrimination, including the “common” strategy (658) of arguing that while the employer or organisation is not prejudiced, they have to discriminate because of their clients’ needs or expectations. I heard this strategy deployed in an interview with a local businesswoman, Catriona: We were advertising for a new technician. And one of the African refugees came to us and he’d had a lot of IT experience. And this is awful, but we felt we couldn't give him the job, because we send our technicians into people's houses, and we knew that if a black African guy rocked up at someone’s house to try and fix their computer, they would not always be welcomed in all—look, it would not be something that [Easthaven] was ready for yet. Colic-Peisker and Tilbury (Refugees and Employment) note that while Australia has strict anti-discrimination legislation, this legislation may be of little use to the people who, because of the way they look and sound (skin colour, dress, accent), are most likely to face prejudice and discrimination. The researchers found that perceived discrimination in the labour market affected humanitarian settlers’ sense of satisfaction with their new lives far more than, for example, racist remarks, which were generally shrugged off; the students I interviewed spoke of racism as “expected,” but “quite rare.” Most of the people Colic-Peisker and Tilbury surveyed reported finding Australians “friendly and accepting” (33). Even if there is no active discrimination on the basis of skin colour in employment, education, or housing, or overt racism in social situations, visible difference can still affect a person’s sense of belonging, as Joseph recounts: I think of myself as Australian, but my colour doesn’t [laughs] […] Unfortunately many, many Australians are expecting that Australia is a country of Europeans … There is no need for somebody to ask “Where do you come from?” and “Do you find Australia here safe?” and “Do you enjoy it?” Those kind of questions doesn’t encourage that we are together. This highlights another dimension of resettlement: the journey from feeling “at home” to feeling “foreign” to, eventually, feeling at home again in the host country (Colic-Peisker and Tilbury, Refugees and Employment). In the case of visibly different settlers, however, this last stage may never be completed. Whether the questions asked of Joseph are well intentioned or not, their effect may be the same: they position him as a “forever foreigner” (Park). A further dimension of resettlement—one already touched on—is the degree to which humanitarian settlers actively manage their “rebirth,” and are allowed and encouraged to do so. A key factor will be their mastery of English, and Easthaven’s ESL teachers are thus pivotal in the resettlement process. There is little doubt that many of these teachers have gone to great lengths to help this cohort of students, not only in terms of language acquisition but also social inclusion. However, in some cases what is initially supportive can, with time, begin to undermine refugees’ maturity into independent citizens. Sharon, an ESL teacher at one of the schools, told me how she and her colleagues would give their refugee-background students lifts to social events: But then maybe three years down the track they have a car and their dad can drive, but they still won’t take them […] We arrive to pick them up and they’re not ready, or there’s five fantastic cars in the driveway, and you pick up the student and they say “My dad’s car’s much bigger and better than yours” [laughs]. So there’s an expectation that we’ll do stuff for them, but we’ve created that [my emphasis]. Other support services may have more complex interests in keeping refugee settlers dependent. The more clients an agency has, the more services it provides, and the longer clients stay on its books, the more lucrative the contract for the agency. Thus financial and employment imperatives promote competition rather than collaboration between service providers (Fozdar and Hartley; Sidhu and Taylor) and may encourage assumptions about what sorts of services different individuals and groups want and need. Colic-Peisker and Tilbury (“‘Active’ and ‘Passive’ Resettlement”) have developed a typology of resettlement styles—“achievers,” “consumers,” “endurers,” and “victims”—but stress that a person’s style, while influenced by personality and pre-migration factors, is also shaped by the institutions and individuals they come into contact with: “The structure of settlement and welfare services may produce a victim mentality, leaving members of refugee communities inert and unable to see themselves as agents of change” (76). The prevailing narrative of “the traumatised refugee” is a key aspect of this dynamic (Colic-Peisker and Tilbury, “‘Active’ and ‘Passive’ Resettlement”; Fozdar and Hartley; Keddie). Service providers may make assumptions about what humanitarian settlers have gone through before arriving in Australia, how they have been affected by their experiences, and what must be done to “fix” them. Norah, a long-time caseworker, told me: I think you get some [providers] who go, “How could you have gone through something like that and not suffered? There must be—you must have to talk about this stuff” […] Where some [refugees] just come with the [attitude] “We’re all born into a situation; that was my situation, but I’m here now and now my focus is this.” She cited failure to consider cultural sensitivities around mental illness and to recognise that stress and anxiety during early resettlement are normal (Tilbury) as other problems in the sector: [Newly arrived refugees] go through the “happy to be here” [phase] and now “hang on, I’ve thumped to the bottom and I’m missing my own foods and smells and cultures and experiences”. I think sometimes we’re just too quick to try and slot people into a box. One factor that appears to be vital in fostering and sustaining resilience is social connection. Norah said her clients were “very good on the mobile phone” and had links “everywhere,” including to family and friends in their countries of birth, transition countries, and other parts of Australia. A 2011 report for DIAC, Settlement Outcomes of New Arrivals, found that humanitarian entrants to Australia were significantly more likely to be members of cultural and/or religious groups than other categories of immigrants (Australian Survey Research). I found many examples of efforts to build both bonding and bridging capital (Putnam) in Easthaven, and I offer two examples below. Several people told me about a dinner-dance that had been held a few weeks before one of my visits. The event was organised by an African women’s group, which had been formed—with funding assistance—several years before. The dinner-dance was advertised in the local newspaper and attracted strong interest from a broad cross-section of Easthaveners. To Debbie, a counsellor, the response signified a “real turnaround” in community relations and was a big boon to the women’s sense of belonging. Erica, a teacher, told me about a cultural exchange day she had organised between her bush school—where almost all of the children are Anglo Australian—and ESL students from one of the town schools: At the start of the day, my kids were looking at [the refugee-background students] and they were scared, they were saying to me, "I feel scared." And we shoved them all into this tiny little room […] and they had no choice but to sit practically on top of each other. And by the end of the day, they were hugging each other and braiding their hair and jumping and playing together. Like Uptin, Wright and Harwood, I found that the refugee-background students placed great importance on the social aspects of school. Sisay, the girl I introduced earlier in this paper, said: “It’s just all about friendship and someone to be there for you […] We try to be friends with them [the non-refugee students] sometimes but sometimes it just seems they don’t want it.” Conclusion A 2012 report on refugee settlement services in NSW concludes that the state “is not meeting its responsibility to humanitarian entrants as well as it could” (Audit Office of New South Wales 2); moreover, humanitarian settlers in NSW are doing less well on indicators such as housing and health than humanitarian settlers in other states (3). Evaluating the effectiveness of formal refugee-centred programs was not part of my research and is beyond the scope of this paper. Rather, I have sought to reveal some of the ways in which the attitudes, assumptions, and everyday practices of service providers and members of the broader community impact on refugees' settlement experience. What I heard repeatedly in the interviews I conducted was that it was emotional and practical support (Matthews; Tilbury), and being asked as well as told (about their hopes, needs, desires), that helped Easthaven’s refugee settlers bear themselves into fulfilling new lives. References Audit Office of New South Wales. Settling Humanitarian Entrants in New South Wales—Executive Summary. May 2012. 15 Aug. 2013 ‹http://www.audit.nsw.gov.au/ArticleDocuments/245/02_Humanitarian_Entrants_2012_Executive_Summary.pdf.aspx?Embed=Y>. Australian Bureau of Statistics. 2011 Census QuickStats. Mar. 2013. 11 Aug. 2013 ‹http://www.censusdata.abs.gov.au/census_services/getproduct/census/2011/quickstat/0>. Australian Survey Research. Settlement Outcomes of New Arrivals—Report of Findings. Apr. 2011. 15 Aug. 2013 ‹http://www.immi.gov.au/media/publications/research/_pdf/settlement-outcomes-new-arrivals.pdf>. Brown, Jill, Jenny Miller, and Jane Mitchell. “Interrupted Schooling and the Acquisition of Literacy: Experiences of Sudanese Refugees in Victorian Secondary Schools.” Australian Journal of Language and Literacy 29.2 (2006): 150-62. Colic-Peisker, Val, and Farida Tilbury. “‘Active’ and ‘Passive’ Resettlement: The Influence of Supporting Services and Refugees’ Own Resources on Resettlement Style.” International Migration 41.5 (2004): 61-91. ———. Refugees and Employment: The Effect of Visible Difference on Discrimination—Final Report. Perth: Centre for Social and Community Research, Murdoch University, 2007. Fozdar, Farida, and Lisa Hartley. “Refugee Resettlement in Australia: What We Know and Need To Know.” Refugee Survey Quarterly 4 Jun. 2013. 12 Aug. 2013 ‹http://rsq.oxfordjournals.org/search?fulltext=fozdar&submit=yes&x=0&y=0>. Garcia Marquez, Gabriel. Love in the Time of Cholera. London: Penguin Books, 1989. Harris, Vandra, and Jay Marlowe. “Hard Yards and High Hopes: The Educational Challenges of African Refugee University Students in Australia.” International Journal of Teaching and Learning in Higher Education 23.2 (2011): 186-96. Hugo, Graeme. A Significant Contribution: The Economic, Social and Civic Contributions of First and Second Generation Humanitarian Entrants—Summary of Findings. Canberra: Department of Immigration and Citizenship, 2011. Keddie, Amanda. “Pursuing Justice for Refugee Students: Addressing Issues of Cultural (Mis)recognition.” International Journal of Inclusive Education 16.12 (2012): 1295-1310. Layton, Robyn. "Building Capacity to Ensure the Inclusion of Vulnerable Groups." Creating Our Future conference, Adelaide, 28 Jul. 2012. Milsom, Rosemarie. “From Hard Luck Life to the Lucky Country.” Sydney Morning Herald 20 Jun. 2013. 12 Aug. 2013 ‹http://www.smh.com.au/national/from-hard-luck-life-to-the-lucky-country-20130619-2oixl.html>. Park, Gilbert C. “’Are We Real Americans?’: Cultural Production of Forever Foreigners at a Diversity Event.” Education and Urban Society 43.4 (2011): 451-67. Poulson, Ingrid. Rise. Sydney: Pan Macmillan Australia, 2008. Putnam, Robert D. Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2000. Sidhu, Ravinder K., and Sandra Taylor. “The Trials and Tribulations of Partnerships in Refugee Settlement Services in Australia.” Journal of Education Policy 24.6 (2009): 655-72. Tilbury, Farida. “‘I Feel I Am a Bird without Wings’: Discourses of Sadness and Loss among East Africans in Western Australia.” Identities: Global Studies in Culture and Power 14.4 (2007): 433-58. ———, and Val Colic-Peisker. “Deflecting Responsibility in Employer Talk about Race Discrimination.” Discourse & Society 17.5 (2006): 651-76. Uptin, Jonnell, Jan Wright, and Valerie Harwood. “It Felt Like I Was a Black Dot on White Paper: Examining Young Former Refugees’ Experience of Entering Australian High Schools.” The Australian Educational Researcher 40.1 (2013): 125-37.

It seems clear that people who are deaf ... struggle continually against the meanings that others impose on their experience, and the way that this separates them from others. They struggle for acknowledgement of the way they see their lives and wish to live them, and aspire to connection?with other people, to share and belong. (David Moorhead. Knowing Who I Am. 1995. 85.) Nga Tapuwae and Before I am deaf but, before that part of my life started, I was hearing and worked for many years as a librarian in New Zealand. My first job was in a public library located within a secondary school Nga Tapuwae Secondary College in South Auckland. Its placement was a 1970’s social experiment to see if a public library could work within the grounds of a community college (and the answer was no, it could not). The experience was a great introduction for me to the Maori and Polynesian cultures that I had not previously encountered. Until then, I was wary of both groups, and so it was a revelation to realise that although there were many social problems in the area including low literacy, many of the children and teenagers were bright, talented individuals. They simply did not connect to the Anglo-Saxon reading materials we offered. Years later, my interest in the social dynamics of literacy led to my enrolment in a post-graduate literacy degree in Melbourne. This action may have saved my life because at the end of this course, a minor ailment resulted in a visit to the university doctor who diagnosed me with the life-threatening medical condition, Neurofibromatosis Type 2 (NF 2). NF2 is a late onset genetic condition in which one’s body grows tumours, always on both hearing nerves, sometimes elsewhere as well. The tumours usually cause deafness and can cause death. I was told I needed to have my tumours removed and would probably become fully deaf as a result. This is how my life as I knew it changed direction and I started the long journey towards becoming deaf. Diagnosis and Change Predictably, once diagnosed, friends and colleagues rallied to comfort me. I was told things probably weren’t as bad as they sounded. Helen Keller was mentioned several times as an example of someone who had succeeded despite being deaf and blind. ‘Really,’ my friends asked, ‘how bad can it be? ‘Inside myself however, it couldn’t have been worse. A day later the enormity of it all hit me and I became inconsolable. A friend drove me back to the doctor and she did two things that were to change my life. She referred me to the University’s counselling services where, happily, I was counselled by Elizabeth Hastings who later went on to become Australia’s first Disability Services Commissioner. Secondly, the doctor organised for me to visit the HEAR Service at the Victorian Deaf Society (VDS). Again by happy accident, my friend and I stumbled into the ‘wrong building’ where I ended up meeting John Lovett, who was Deaf and the CEO there, via an interpreter. When I met John Lovett I was distraught but, unlike other people, he made no attempt to stop me crying. He simply listened carefully until I realised he understood what I was saying and stopped crying myself. He said my fears that I could end up alone and lonely were valid and he suggested the best thing I could do for myself was to join the ‘Deaf community’; a community. I had never heard of. He explained it was made up of people like him who used Australian sign language (Auslan) to communicate. He was so engaging and supportive that this plan sounded fine to me. By the time we finished talking and he walked me over to the HEAR Service, I was so in his thrall that I had enrolled for a Deaf awareness workshop, an Auslan class, and had plans to join the Deaf community. Had I stayed on and learned Auslan, my life may well have followed a different path, but this was not to be at that time. Becoming Hearing Impaired (HI) Across at the HEAR service, an alternate view of my potential future was put to me. Instead of moving away from everything familiar and joining the Deaf community, I could learn to lip-read and hopefully use it to stay in the workforce and amongst my hearing friends. I had a cousin and aunt who were late deafened; my cousin in particular was doing well communicating with lip-reading. I discussed this with friends and the idea of staying with the people I already knew sounded far less confronting than joining the Deaf community and so I chose this path. My surgeon was also optimistic. He was confident he could save some of my hearing. Suddenly learning Auslan seemed superfluous. I phoned John Lovett to explain, and his response was that I should do what suited me, but he asked me to remember one thing: that it was me who decided to leave the Deaf Community, not that the Deaf community had not wanted me. He told me that, if I changed my mind, I could always go back because the door to the Deaf community would always be open and he would be still be there. It would be a decade before I decided that I wanted to go back through that door, and around that time this great man passed away, but I never forgot my promise to remember our conversation. It, and a few other exchanges I had with him in the following years, stayed at the back of my mind, especially as my residual hearing sank over the years, and the prospect of total deafness hung over me. When I had the surgery, my surgeon’s optimism proved unfounded. He could not save any hearing on my left side and my facial and balance nerves were damaged as well. The hospital then decided not to operate again, and would only attempt to remove the second tumour if it grew and threatened my health again. Consequently, for close to a decade, my life was on hold in many ways. I feared deafness—for me it signalled that my life as I knew it would end and I would be isolated. Every hearing test was a tense time for me as I watched my remaining hearing decline in a slow, relentless downward path on the graph. It was like watching the tide go out knowing it was never going to come in as fully again. My thinking started to change too. Within a week of my diagnosis I experienced discrimination for the first time. A library school that had offered me a place in its post graduate librarianship course the following year made it clear that they no longer wanted me. In the end it did not matter as I was accepted at another institution but it was my first experience of being treated less favourably in the community and it was a shock. After the surgery my life settled down again. I found work in public libraries again, rekindled an old relationship and in 1994 had a baby boy. However, living with a hearing loss is hard work. Everything seemed tiring, especially lip-reading. My ears rejected my hearing aid and became itchy and inflamed. I became aware that my continual hearing problems were sometimes seen as a nuisance in work situations. Socialising lost a lot of its appeal so my social world also contracted. Around this time something else started happening. Outside work, people started expressing admiration for me—words like ‘role model’ and ‘inspiring’ started entering the conversation. Any other time I might have enjoyed it but for me, struggling to adapt to my new situation, it felt odd. The whole thing reminded me of being encouraged to be like Helen Keller; as if there is a right way to behave when one is deaf in which you are an inspiration, and a wrong way in which one is seen as being in need of a role model. I discussed this with Elizabeth Hastings who had helped me prepare mentally for the surgery and afterwards. I explained I felt vulnerable and needy in my new situation and she gave me some useful advice. She thought feeling needy was a good thing as realising one needs people keeps one humble. She observed that, after years of intellectualising, educated people sometimes started believing they could use intellectualisation as a way to avoid painful emotions such as sadness. This behaviour then cut them off from support and from understanding that none of us can do it alone. She believed that, in always having to ask for help, people with disabilities are kept aware of the simple truth that all people depend on others to survive. She said I could regard becoming deaf as a disability, or I could choose to regard it as a privilege. Over the years the truth of her words became increasingly more evident to me as I waded through all the jargon and intellectualisation that surrounds discussion of both deafness and the disability arena, compared to the often raw emotion expressed by those on the receiving end of it. At a personal level I have found that talking about emotions helps especially in the face of the ubiquitous ‘positive thinking’ brigade who would have us all believe that successful people do not feel negative emotions regardless of what is happening. The Lie Elizabeth had initially sympathised with my sadness about my impending deafness. One day however she asked why, having expressed positive sentiments both about deaf people and people with disabilities, I was saying I would probably be better off dead than deaf? Up until that conversation I was unaware of the contradictions between what I felt and what I was saying. I came to realise I was living a lie because I did not believe what I was telling myself; namely, that deaf people and people with disabilities are as good as other people. Far from believing this, what I really thought was that being deaf, or having a disability, did lessen one’s worth. It was an uncomfortable admission, particularly sharing it with someone sitting in a wheelchair, and especially as up until then I had always seen myself as a liberal thinker. Now, faced with the reality of becoming deaf, I had been hoist by my own petard, as I could not come to terms with the idea of myself as a deaf person. The Christian idea of looking after the ‘less fortunate’ was one I had been exposed to, but I had not realised the flip side of it, which is that the ‘less fortunate’ are also perceived as a ‘burden’ for those looking after them. It reminded me of my initial experiences years earlier at Nga Tapuwae when I came face to face with cultures I thought I had understood but did not. In both cases it was only when I got to know people that I began to question my own attitudes and assumptions and broadened my thinking. Unfortunately for deaf people, and people with disabilities, I have not been the only person lying to myself. These days it is not common for people to express their fears about deaf people or people with disabilities. People just press on without fully communicating or understanding the other person’s attitude or perspectives. When things then do not work out, these failures reinforce the misconceptions and these attitudes persist. I believe it is one of the main reasons why true community inclusion for deaf and people with disabilities is moving so slowly. Paying for access is another manifestation of this. Everyone is supportive of access in principle but there is continuous complaint about paying for things such as interpreting. The never-ending discussions between deaf people and the wealthy movie industry about providing more than token access to captioned cinema demonstrate that the inclusion lie is alive and well. Until it can be effectively addressed through genuine dialogue, deaf people, hard of hearing people and people with disabilities will always be largely relegated to life outside the mainstream. Collectively we will also continue to have to endure this double message that we are of equal value to the community while simultaneously being considered a financial burden if we try to access it in ways that are meaningful to us. Becoming Deaf In 2002 however all this thinking still lay ahead of me. I still had some hearing and was back living in New Zealand to be close to my family. My relationship had ended and I was a solo mother. My workplace had approved leave of absence, and so I still had my job to go back to in Melbourne if I wanted it. However, I suspected that I would soon need the second tumour removed because I was getting shooting pains down my face. When my fears were confirmed I could not decide whether to move back to Melbourne or let the job go, and risk having trouble finding one if I went back later. I initially chose to stay longer as my father was sick but eventually I decided Melbourne was where I wanted to be especially if I was deaf. I returned, found temporary employment, and right up to the second surgery I was able to work as I could make good use of the small amount of hearing I still had. I thought that I would still be able to cope when I was made fully deaf as a result of the surgery. It was, after all, only one notch down on the audiogram and I was already ‘profoundly deaf’ and still working. When I woke up after the surgery completely deaf, it felt anti-climactic. The world seemed exactly the same, just silent. At home where I was surrounded by my close family and friends everything initially seemed possible. However, when my family left, it was just my seven-year-old son and myself again, and on venturing back into the community, it quickly became clear to me that at some level my status had changed. Without any cues, I struggled to follow speech and few people wanted to write things down. Although my son was only seven, people communicated with him in preference to me. I felt as if we had changed roles: I was now the child and he was the adult. Worse was soon to follow when I tried to re-enter the workforce. When I had the surgery, the hospital had installed a gadget called an auditory brainstem implant, (ABI) which they said would help me hear. An ABI is similar to a cochlear implant but it is attached to the brainstem instead of the cochlear nerve. My cochlear nerve was removed. I hoped my ABI would enable me to hear enough to find work but, aside from clinical conditions in which there was no background noise and the staff knew how to assist, it did not work. My most humiliating moment with it came when it broke down mid job interview and I spent half the time left trying to get it going again in full view of the embarrassed interview panel, and the other half trying to maintain my composure whilst trying to lip-read the questions. The most crushing blow came from the library where I had happily worked for seven years at middle management level. This library was collaborating with another institution to set up a new library and they needed new staff. I hopefully applied for a job at the same level I had worked at prior to becoming deaf but was unsuccessful. When I asked for feedback, I was told that I was not seen as having the skills to work at that level. My lowest point came when I was refused a job unpacking boxes of books. I was told I did not have experience in this area even though, as any librarian will attest, unpacking boxes is part of any librarian’s work. When I could not find unskilled work, it occurred to me that possibly I would never work again. While this was unfolding, my young son and I went from being comfortable financially to impoverished. My ex-partner also decided he would now make childcare arrangements directly with my son as he was annoyed at being expected to write things down for me. My relationship with him, some family members, and my friends were all under strain at that time. I was lost. It also became clear that my son was not coping. Although he knew the rudiments of Auslan, it was not enough for us to communicate sufficiently. His behaviour at school deteriorated and one night he became so frustrated trying to talk to me that he started to pull out his own hair. I calmed him and asked him to write down for me what he was feeling and he wrote down ‘It is like you died. It is like I don’t have a Mum now’. It was now clear to me that although I still had my friends, nobody including myself knew what to do. I realised I had to find someone who could understand my situation and I knew now it had to be a Deaf person. Fortunately, by this stage I was back learning Auslan again at La Trobe University. The week after the conversation with my son, I told my Auslan teacher what had happened. To my relief she understood my situation immediately. She told me to bring my son to class, at no cost, and she would teach him herself. I did and my life started to turn around. My son took to Auslan with such speed and application that he was able to not only converse with her in one month but immediately started using Auslan with me at home to get the things he wanted. We were able to re-establish the mother/son relationship that we both needed. I was also able to help my son talk through and deal with all the changes that me becoming deaf had foisted upon him. He still uses Auslan to talk to me and supplements it using speech, copious finger spelling, notes and diagrams. More than anything else, this relationship has kept me anchored to my long-term goal of becoming a clear signer. Encouraged by my son’s success, I put all my energy into learning Auslan and enrolled in a full time TAFE Auslan course. I also joined a chat group called ‘Here to Hear’ (H2H). The perspectives in the group ranged from strongly oral to strongly Deaf but for me, trying to find a place to fit in any of it, it was invaluable. Almost daily I chatted with the group, asking questions and invariably someone responded. The group acted as a safety net and sounding board for me as I worked out the practicalities of living life deaf. The day of my fateful interview and the ABI humiliation, I came home so shaken that I used the Irish remedy of a couple of swigs of whisky, and then went online and posted an account of it all. I can still remember the collective indignation of the group and, as I read the responses, beginning to see the funny side of it . . . something I could not have done alone. I also made use of easy access to Deaf teachers at TAFE and used that to listen to them and ask advice on situations. I found out for example, that if I instructed my son to stand behind me when people in shops insisted on addressing him, they had no alternative but to talk to me; it was a good clear message to all concerned that my son was the child in this relationship. About this time, I discovered the Disability Discrimination Act (DDA) that Elizabeth Hastings had worked so hard on, filed my first DDA complaint, and received my first apology at the mediation session that followed. My personal life also improved, relationship by relationship as everyone adjusted. Slowly the ice melted in most of my relationships; some relationships faded and were replaced with new ones with signing people, and eventually hearing people again. My life moved forward. Through a member of ‘Here to Hear’, I was invited to apply for my first post deaf job—covering holiday leave at a Deaf sports organisation. I practically finger-spelt my way through the interview but not only did they offer me the job, they were delighted to have me. I was able to buy a few things with the money I earned, and suddenly it felt as if everything was possible again. This acceptance of me by Deaf people had a profound impact on me. I mixed with people more, and it was not too long before I was able to use my basic signing skills to use Auslan interpreters and re-enter the workplace. I have discovered over time that living in silence also has advantages—no more noisy parties or rubbish trucks clanging at dawn and in its place a vastly heightened visual awareness that I enjoy. Before I was deaf I thought it would be lonely in the silence but in fact many of life’s best moments—watching rain hit and then run down a window, swimming in the sea, cooking and being with good friends—do not rely upon sound at all; they feel the same way they always did. Sometimes I have felt somewhat of an outsider in the Deaf community. I have sometimes been taken aback by people’s abruptness but I have learned over time that being succinct is valued in Auslan, and some people like to come straight to the point. At crisis points, such as when I asked for help at the Victorian Deaf Society and my Auslan class, it has been a huge relief to talk to Deaf people and know immediately that they understand just from reading their eyes. Having access to an additional world of deaf people has made my life more enjoyable. I feel privileged to be associated with the Deaf community. I can recall a couple of Christmases ago making dinner for some signing friends and suddenly realising that, without noticing, everything had become alright in my world again. Everyone was signing really fast – something I still struggle with; but every now and then someone would stop and summarise so I felt included. It was really relaxed and simply felt like old times, just old times without the sound thrown in. Le Page and Tabouret-Keller, two ethnographers, have this to say about why people communicate the ways they do: The individual ... creates for himself the patterns of his linguistic behaviour so as to resemble those of the group or groups with which from time to time he wishes to be identified, or so as to be unlike those from whom he wishes to be distinguished ... . We see speech acts as acts of projection; the speaker is projecting his inner universe, implicitly with the invitation to others to share it ... he is seeking to reinforce his models of the world, and hopes for solidarity from those with whom he wishes to identify. (181) This quote neatly sums up why I choose to communicate the ways I do. I use Auslan and speech in different situations because I am connected to people in both groups and I want them in my life. I do not feel hugely different from anyone these days. If it is accepted that I have as much to contribute to the community as anyone else, becoming deaf has also meant for me that I expect to see other people treated well and accepted. For me that means contributing my time and thoughts, and advocating. It also means expecting a good level of access to interpreters, to some thought provoking captioned movies in English, and affordable assistive technologies so I can participate. I see this right to participate and engage in genuine dialogue with the rest of the community as central to the aspirations and identity of us all, regardless of who we are or where others think we belong. References Le Page, R.B., and Andree Tabouret-Keller. Acts of Identity: Creole-Based Approaches to Language and Ethnicity. London: Cambridge University Press, 1985. Moorhead, D. “Knowing Who I Am.” In S. Gregory, ed., Deaf Futures Revisited. Block 3, Unit 10, D251 Issues in Deafness. Open University, 1995.

Positive biases dominate much leadership research by focusing on the attributes of the desired leader. In reality, many leaders misbehave and cause significant harm to the organization. This study aims to determine the role of mental health mediation on the relationship between destructive leadership and job performance in public sector organizations, using the JD-R theory approach. The data collection used a questionnaire distributed online, with a total of 218 respondents. The hypothesis was tested using PLS-SEM. The results of this study show that destructive leadership has a positive and significant effect on employee mental health but does not affect job performance. Mental health does not mediate the relationship between destructive leadership and job performance. The practical implication of this research is for management to periodically evaluate the behavior of leaders in their organizations so that the organization’s health is maintained, namely having high performance and the mental health of its employees is maintained.

Introduction The academic area known as food studies—incorporating elements from disciplines including anthropology, folklore, history, sociology, gastronomy, and cultural studies as well as a range of multi-disciplinary approaches—asserts that cooking and eating practices are less a matter of nutrition (maintaining life by absorbing nutrients from food) and more a personal or group expression of various social and/or cultural actions, values or positions. The French philosopher, Michel de Certeau agrees, arguing, moreover, that there is an urgency to name and unpick (what he identifies as) the “minor” practices, the “multifarious and silent reserve of procedures” of everyday life. Such practices are of crucial importance to all of us, as although seemingly ordinary, and even banal, they have the ability to “organise” our lives (48). Within such a context, the following aims to consider the influence and significance of an important (although largely unstudied) professional figure in rural and regional economic life: the country food preparer variously known as the local chef or cook. Such an approach is obviously framed by the concept of “cultural economy”. This term recognises the convergence, and interdependence, of the spheres of the cultural and the economic (see Scott 335, for an influential discussion on how “the cultural geography of space and the economic geography of production are intertwined”). Utilising this concept in relation to chefs and cooks seeks to highlight how the ways these figures organise (to use de Certeau’s term) the social and cultural lives of those in their communities are embedded in economic practices and also how, in turn, their economic contributions are dependent upon social and cultural practices. This initial mapping of the influence and significance of the rural and regional chef in one rural and regional area, therefore, although necessarily different in approach and content, continues the application of such converged conceptualisations of the cultural and economic as Teema Tairu’s discussion of the social, recreational and spiritual importance of food preparation and consumption by the unemployed in Finland, Guy Redden’s exploration of how supermarket products reflect shared values, and a series of analyses of the cultural significance of individual food products, such as Richard White’s study of vegemite. While Australians, both urban and rural, currently enjoy access to an internationally renowned food culture, it is remarkable to consider that it has only been during the years following the Second World War that these sophisticated and now much emulated ways of eating and cooking have developed. It is, indeed, only during the last half century that Australian eating habits have shifted from largely Anglo-Saxon influenced foods and meals that were prepared and eaten in the home, to the consumption of a wider range of more international and sophisticated foods and meals that are, increasingly, prepared by others and eaten outside the consumer’s residence. While a range of commonly cited influences has prompted this relatively recent revolution in culinary practice—including post-war migration, increasing levels of prosperity, widespread international travel, and the forces of globalisation—some of this change owes a debt to a series of influential individual figures. These tastemakers have included food writers and celebrity chefs; with early exponents including Margaret Fulton, Graham Kerr and Charmaine Solomon (see Brien). The findings of this study suggests that many restaurant chefs, and other cooks, have similarly played, and continue to take, a key role in the lives of not only the, necessarily, limited numbers of individuals who dine in a particular eatery or the other chefs and/or cooks trained in that establishment (Ruhlman, Reach), but also the communities in which they work on a much broader scale. Considering Chefs In his groundbreaking study, A History of Cooks and Cooking, Australian food historian Michael Symons proposes that those who prepare food are worthy of serious consideration because “if ‘we are what we eat’, cooks have not just made our meals, but have also made us. They have shaped our social networks, our technologies, arts and religions” (xi). Writing that cooks “deserve to have their stories told often and well,” and that, moreover, there is a “need to invent ways to think about them, and to revise our views about ourselves in their light” (xi), Symons’s is a clarion call to investigate the role and influence of cooks. Charles-Allen Baker-Clark has explicitly begun to address this lacunae in his Profiles from the Kitchen: What Great Cooks Have Taught Us About Ourselves and Our Food (2006), positing not only how these figures have shaped our relationships with food and eating, but also how these relationships impact on identities, culture and a range of social issues including those of social justice, spirituality and environmental sustainability. With the growing public interest in celebrities, it is perhaps not surprising that, while such research on chefs and/or cooks is still in its infancy, most of the existing detailed studies on individuals focus on famed international figures such as Marie-Antoine Carême (Bernier; Kelly), Escoffier (James; Rachleff; Sanger), and Alexis Soyer (Brandon; Morris; Ray). Despite an increasing number of tabloid “tell-all” surveys of contemporary celebrity chefs, which are largely based on mass media sources and which display little concern for historical or biographical accuracy (Bowyer; Hildred and Ewbank; Simpson; Smith), there have been to date only a handful of “serious” researched biographies of contemporary international chefs such as Julia Child, Alice Waters (Reardon; Riley), and Bernard Loiseux (Chelminski)—the last perhaps precipitated by an increased interest in this chef following his suicide after his restaurant lost one of its Michelin stars. Despite a handful of collective biographical studies of Australian chefs from the later-1980s on (Jenkins; O’Donnell and Knox; Brien), there are even fewer sustained biographical studies of Australian chefs or cooks (Clifford-Smith’s 2004 study of “the supermarket chef,” Bernard King, is a notable exception). Throughout such investigations, as well as in other popular food writing in magazines and cookbooks, there is some recognition that influential chefs and cooks have worked, and continue to work, outside such renowned urban culinary centres as Paris, London, New York, and Sydney. The Michelin starred restaurants of rural France, the so-called “gastropubs” of rural Britain and the advent of the “star-chef”-led country bed and breakfast establishment in Australia and New Zealand, together with the proliferation of farmer’s markets and a public desire to consume locally sourced, and ecologically sustainable, produce (Nabhan), has focused fresh attention on what could be called “the rural/regional chef”. However, despite the above, little attention has focused on the Australian non-urban chef/cook outside of the pages of a small number of key food writing magazines such as Australian Gourmet Traveller and Vogue Entertaining + Travel. Setting the Scene with an Australian Country Example: Armidale and Guyra In 2004, the Armidale-Dumaresq Council (of the New England region, New South Wales, Australia) adopted the slogan “Foodies thrive in Armidale” to market its main city for the next three years. With a population of some 20,000, Armidale’s main industry (in economic terms) is actually education and related services, but the latest Tourist Information Centre’s Dining Out in Armidale (c. 2006) brochure lists some 25 restaurants, 9 bistros and brasseries, 19 cafés and 5 fast food outlets featuring Australian, French, Italian, Mediterranean, Chinese, Thai, Indian and “international” cuisines. The local Yellow Pages telephone listings swell the estimation of the total number of food-providing businesses in the city to 60. Alongside the range of cuisines cited above, a large number of these eateries foreground the use of fresh, local foods with such phrases as “local and regional produce,” “fresh locally grown produce,” “the finest New England ingredients” and locally sourced “New England steaks, lamb and fresh seafood” repeatedly utilised in advertising and other promotional material. Some thirty kilometres to the north along the New England highway, the country town of Guyra, proclaimed a town in 1885, is the administrative and retail centre for a shire of some 2,200 people. Situated at 1,325 metres above sea level, the town is one of the highest in Australia with its main industries those of fine wool and lamb, beef cattle, potatoes and tomatoes. Until 1996, Guyra had been home to a large regional abattoir that employed some 400 staff at the height of its productivity, but rationalisation of the meat processing industry closed the facility, together with its associated pet food processor, causing a downturn in employment, local retail business, and real estate values. Since 2004, Guyra’s economy has, however, begun to recover after the town was identified by the Costa Group as the perfect site for glasshouse grown tomatoes. Perfect, due to its rare combination of cool summers (with an average of less than two days per year with temperatures over 30 degrees celsius), high winter light levels and proximity to transport routes. The result: 3.3 million kilograms of truss, vine harvested, hydroponic “Top of the Range” tomatoes currently produced per annum, all year round, in Guyra’s 5-hectare glasshouse: Australia’s largest, opened in December 2005. What residents (of whom I am one) call the “tomato-led recovery” has generated some 60 new local jobs directly related to the business, and significant flow on effects in terms of the demand for local services and retail business. This has led to substantial rates of renovation and building of new residential and retail properties, and a noticeably higher level of trade flowing into the town. Guyra’s main street retail sector is currently burgeoning and stories of its renewal have appeared in the national press. Unlike many similar sized inland towns, there are only a handful of empty shops (and most of these are in the process of being renovated), and new commercial premises have recently been constructed and opened for business. Although a small town, even in Australian country town terms, Guyra now has 10 restaurants, hotel bistros and cafés. A number of these feature local foods, with one pub’s bistro regularly featuring the trout that is farmed just kilometres away. Assessing the Contribution of Local Chefs and Cooks In mid-2007, a pilot survey to begin to explore the contribution of the regional chef in these two close, but quite distinct, rural and regional areas was sent to the chefs/cooks of the 70 food-serving businesses in Armidale and Guyra that I could identify. Taking into account the 6 returns that revealed a business had closed, moved or changed its name, the 42 replies received represented a response rate of 65.5per cent (or two thirds), representatively spread across the two towns. Answers indicated that the businesses comprised 18 restaurants, 13 cafés, 6 bistro/brasseries, 1 roadhouse, 1 takeaway/fast food and 3 bed and breakfast establishments. These businesses employed 394 staff, of whom 102 were chefs and/cooks, or 25.9 per cent of the total number of staff then employed by these establishments. In answer to a series of questions designed to ascertain the roles played by these chefs/cooks in their local communities, as well as more widely, I found a wide range of inputs. These chefs had, for instance, made a considerable contribution to their local economies in the area of fostering local jobs and a work culture: 40 (95 per cent) had worked with/for another local business including but not exclusively food businesses; 30 (71.4 per cent) had provided work experience opportunities for those aspiring to work in the culinary field; and 22 (more than half) had provided at least one apprenticeship position. A large number had brought outside expertise and knowledge with them to these local areas, with 29 (69 per cent) having worked in another food business outside Armidale or Guyra. In terms of community building and sustainability, 10 (or almost a quarter) had assisted or advised the local Council; 20 (or almost half) had worked with local school children in a food-related way; 28 (two thirds) had helped at least one charity or other local fundraising group. An extra 7 (bringing the cumulative total to 83.3 per cent) specifically mentioned that they had worked with/for the local gallery, museum and/or local history group. 23 (more than half) had been involved with and/or contributed to a local festival. The question of whether they had “contributed anything else important, helpful or interesting to the community” elicited the following responses: writing a food or wine column for the local paper (3 respondents), delivering TAFE teacher workshops (2 respondents), holding food demonstrations for Rotary and Lions Clubs and school fetes (5 respondents), informing the public about healthy food (3 respondents), educating the public about environmental issues (2 respondents) and working regularly with Meals on Wheels or a similar organisation (6 respondents, or 14.3 per cent). One respondent added his/her work as a volunteer driver for the local ambulance transport service, the only non-food related response to this question. Interestingly, in line with the activity of well-known celebrity chefs, in addition to the 3 chefs/cooks who had written a food or wine column for the local newspaper, 11 respondents (more than a quarter of the sample) had written or contributed to a cookbook or recipe collection. One of these chefs/cooks, moreover, reported that he/she produced a weblog that was “widely read”, and also contributed to international food-related weblogs and websites. In turn, the responses indicated that the (local) communities—including their governing bodies—also offer some support of these chefs and cooks. Many respondents reported they had been featured in, or interviewed and/or photographed for, a range of media. This media comprised the following: the local newspapers (22 respondents, 52.4 per cent), local radio stations (19 respondents, 45.2 per cent), regional television stations (11 respondents, 26.2 per cent) and local websites (8 respondents, 19 per cent). A number had also attracted other media exposure. This was in the local, regional area, especially through local Council publications (31 respondents, 75 per cent), as well as state-wide (2 respondents, 4.8 per cent) and nationally (6 respondents, 14.3 per cent). Two of these local chefs/cooks (or 4.8 per cent) had attracted international media coverage of their activities. It is clear from the above that, in the small area surveyed, rural and regional chefs/cooks make a considerable contribution to their local communities, with all the chefs/cooks who replied making some, and a number a major, contribution to those communities, well beyond the requirements of their paid positions in the field of food preparation and service. The responses tendered indicate that these chefs and cooks contributed regularly to local public events, institutions and charities (with a high rate of contribution to local festivals, school programs and local charitable activities), and were also making an input into public education programs, local cultural institutions, political and social debates of local importance, as well as the profitability of other local businesses. They were also actively supporting not only the future of the food industry as a whole, but also the viability of their local communities, by providing work experience opportunities and taking on local apprentices for training and mentorship. Much more than merely food providers, as a group, these chefs and cooks were, it appears, also operating as food historians, public intellectuals, teachers, activists and environmentalists. They were, moreover, operating as content producers for local media while, at the same time, acting as media producers and publishers. Conclusion The terms “chef” and “cook” can be diversely defined. All definitions, however, commonly involve a sense of professionalism in food preparation reflecting some specialist knowledge and skill in the culinary arts, as well as various levels of creativity, experience and responsibility. In terms of the specific duties that chefs and professional cooks undertake every day, almost all publications on the subject deal specifically with workplace related activities such as food and other supply ordering, staff management, menu planning and food preparation and serving. This is constant across culinary textbooks (see, for instance, Culinary Institute of America 2002) and more discursive narratives about the professional chef such as the bestselling autobiographical musings of Anthony Bourdain, and Michael Ruhlman’s journalistic/biographical investigations of US chefs (Soul; Reach). An alternative preliminary examination, and categorisation, of the roles these professionals play outside their kitchens reveals, however, a much wider range of community based activities and inputs than such texts suggest. It is without doubt that the chefs and cooks who responded to the survey discussed above have made, and are making, a considerable contribution to their local New England communities. It is also without doubt that these contributions are of considerable value, and valued by, those country communities. Further research will have to consider to what extent these contributions, and the significance and influence of these chefs and cooks in those communities are mirrored, or not, by other country (as well as urban) chefs and cooks, and their communities. Acknowledgements An earlier version of this paper was presented at the Engaging Histories: Australian Historical Association Regional Conference, at the University of New England, September 2007. I would like to thank the session’s participants for their insightful comments on that presentation. A sincere thank you, too, to the reviewers of this article, whose suggestions assisted my thinking on this piece. Research to complete this article was carried out whilst a Visiting Fellow with the Research School of Humanities, the Australian National University. References Armidale Tourist Information Centre. Dining Out in Armidale [brochure]. Armidale: Armidale-Dumaresq Council, c. 2006. Baker-Clark, C. A. Profiles from the Kitchen: What Great Cooks have Taught us about Ourselves and our Food. Lexington: UP of Kentucky, 2006. Bernier, G. Antoine Carême 1783-1833: La Sensualité Gourmande en Europe. Paris: Grasset, 1989. Bourdain, A. Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly. New York: Harper Perennial, 2001. Bowyer, A. Delia Smith: The Biography. London: André Deutsch, 1999. Brandon, R. The People’s Chef: Alexis Soyer, A Life in Seven Courses. Chichester: Wiley, 2005. Brien, D. L. “Australian Celebrity Chefs 1950-1980: A Preliminary Study.” Australian Folklore 21 (2006): 201–18. Chelminski, R. The Perfectionist: Life and Death In Haute Cuisine. New York: Gotham Books, 2005. Clifford-Smith, S. A Marvellous Party: The Life of Bernard King. Milson’s Point: Random House Australia, 2004. Culinary Institute of America. The Professional Chef. 7th ed. New York: Wiley, 2002. de Certeau, M. The Practice of Everyday Life. Berkeley: U of California P, 1988. Hildred, S., and T. Ewbank. Jamie Oliver: The Biography. London: Blake, 2001. Jenkins, S. 21 Great Chefs of Australia: The Coming of Age of Australian Cuisine. East Roseville: Simon and Schuster, 1991. Kelly, I. Cooking for Kings: The Life of Antoine Carême, The First Celebrity Chef. New York: Walker and Company, 2003. James, K. Escoffier: The King of Chefs. London and New York: Hambledon and London, 2002. Morris, H. Portrait of a Chef: The Life of Alexis Soyer, Sometime Chef to the Reform Club. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1938. Nabhan, G. P. Coming Home to Eat: The Pleasures and Politics of Local Foods. New York: W.W. Norton, 2002. O’Donnell, M., and T. Knox. Great Australian Chefs. Melbourne: Bookman Press, 1999. Rachleff, O. S. Escoffier: King of Chefs. New York: Broadway Play Pub., 1983. Ray, E. Alexis Soyer: Cook Extraordinary. Lewes: Southover, 1991. Reardon, J. M. F. K. Fisher, Julia Child, and Alice Waters: Celebrating the Pleasures of the Table. New York: Harmony Books, 1994. Redden, G. “Packaging the Gifts of Nation.” M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2.7 (1999) accessed 10 September 2008 http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9910/gifts.php. Riley, N. Appetite For Life: The Biography of Julia Child. New York: Doubleday, 1977. Ruhlman, M. The Soul of a Chef. New York: Viking, 2001. Ruhlman, M. The Reach of a Chef. New York: Viking, 2006. Sanger, M. B. Escoffier: Master Chef. New York: Farrar Straus Giroux, 1976. Scott, A. J. “The Cultural Economy of Cities.” International Journal of Urban and Regional Research 212 (1997) 323–39. Simpson, N. Gordon Ramsay: The Biography. London: John Blake, 2006. Smith, G. Nigella Lawson: A Biography. London: Andre Deutsch, 2005. Symons, M. A History of Cooks and Cooking. Urbana and Chicago: U of Illinois P, 2004. Tairu, T. “Material Food, Spiritual Quest: When Pleasure Does Not Follow Purchase.” M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2.7 (1999) accessed 10 September 2008 http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9910/pleasure.php. White, R. S. “Popular Culture as the Everyday: A Brief Cultural History of Vegemite.” Australian Popular Culture. Ed. I. Craven. Cambridge UP, 1994. 15–21.