Narratives of War Veterans:
Implications for Promoting Care and Peace in Our Classrooms
By Sonja Susut
SSTA Research Centre Report #00-06: 42 pages, $11


1. The Allure of the Story: Background

2. Boundaries: The Methodology

3. Odyssey: The Ethic of Care 4. Salvation Through the Fathers: The Research 5. Suffer the Little Children: Peace Education



This report is a summary of a Master’s thesis by Sonja Susut, University of Regina.  The study was designed to explore how a grade four teacher might interpret and re-tell, pedagogically, the lessons told by veterans about war.  The object of the study was to reach a better understanding of how a teacher could make the lives of veterans a meaningful part of the curriculum and use their stories as part of a peace education program for students.  Semi-structured interviews were conducted with ten war veterans. 

Examining the relationship of the ethic of care and peace education, the journey through the youth, military service, and post-war years of the veterans helped the researcher explore a significant source of knowledge to be gained through the use of inter-generational communication.  In the process of seeing history through the eyes of others, the researcher suggests that lessons of peace are seen as the basis for whole earth interdependence, derived from learning to cooperate and cooperating to learn.  The stories of veterans have shown that teachers can use the words of those who have been there, to supplement curricular development that emphasizes social solidarity and shared responsibility in reaching group goals.  It is possible to care, it is possible to change, and it is possible to enjoy peace. 

6. Peace is a Little Bit of Heaven: Reflections of a Listener 

7. References
(Note: The original thesis contains the text of the numerous exerpts from the interview process.)
Back to: Curriculum

The SSTA Research Centre grants permission to reproduce up to three copies of each report for personal use.
Each copy must acknowledge the author and the SSTA Research Centre as the source. A complete and authorized copy of each report is  available from the SSTA Research Centre.
The opinions and recommendations expressed in this report are those of the author and may not be in agreement with SSTA officers or trustees, but are offered as being worthy of consideration by those responsible for making decisions.

1. The Allure of the Story: Background

The whetting of my appetite for oral histories came, I think, after reading the 1689 will of one of my ancestral grandfathers:

Who was Rebecka?  Did those sons take care of her?  Who was the husband who left the detailed will so many generations ago?  Did anyone know?  Did anyone care?

Twenty years ago, during a visit to two wonderfully talkative aunts, one of them mentioned their regret at not listening to their mother who prattled on endlessly about her family and early life in Pennsylvania.  The aunt remarked, “We heard the stories so many times we stopped listening.  Now I wish we had.  I can’t even remember the people she talked about. We must have been such a disappointment to her.”  Those words have remained with me, niggling in my thoughts, adding to my mission as a parent to record the family history.

There have been many rewards in this “data gathering” of mine.  Through trial and error I discovered the most profitable ways to establish rapport and the most unlikely sources that would yield the “gold mines” of information.

Perhaps my greatest inspiration was my grandfather, a wonderful, quiet, transplanted Newfoundlander who, through his stories, created in me a yearning to know more and more about the hardy souls who settled our land and stayed through thick and thin to raise their families and watch the country prosper.  In his tiny house, Grandpa, at the age of 90, began to talk to me.  Ten years later, my pen was still scratching.  I would visit a few times a year, carrying along my notebooks, my typewriter, my two children, and my dog and we would drive out to the prairie fields where he once homesteaded.  While the dog and the kids ran wildly, Grandpa would talk, mystifying my aunts.  “He never talks much,” they’d say.  “He’s always been a quiet loner of a man.”  Perhaps it was my naivety.  Perhaps it was the way I listened.  Perhaps it was the dog.  He would go for hours, nonstop. And, I would scribble.

There were other stories, from aunts, uncles, cousins, and parents.  Validation and credibility occurred without my realizing what was taking place as someone would tell similar stories of the same event.  Perhaps my fascination with the older generation has grown because these are the folks who have the time to talk.  Their families are grown and gone.  They have often lost a spouse.  They are usually tucked neatly into seniors’ housing and are disgruntled at their lack of space.  They are all overjoyed with company and undivided attention.  They also like my dog.  The collections of the experiences of these gentle souls have found their way into my teaching in the classroom.  The students are always eager to hear the stories of those “olden days,” the days of their grandparents’ youth.  They display a new sense of attentiveness and are unaware of the lessons and morals and deeper thought attached to the narratives.

Through my more recent studies of qualitative research, the methodologies have taken on new meaning for me.  There is, indeed, an exciting world of people’s lives and experiences that awaits discovery.  The most meaningful way of knowing is through example and by what other people have done and, it was not until my involvement with the study of interviews and narratives that I began to think about my years of delving into the family oral histories.  Was this interviewing?  Was this narrative?  Were stories being told through conversation?  What had I been trying to learn?  Through my blundering, inexperienced way, a small piece of those lives will be forever preserved.  That was my purpose.  To understand what we have become today, how we live, and why we live as we do, we need only to imagine, through those stories, the laying of the foundation of our personalities, our integrity, and dreams and aspirations.  Often lost in the mad whirl of the postmodern world is the passing of history from generation to generation and the “unfolding of our unique stories within the context of everyday events” (Paley, cited by Carter, 1993, p. 5).

And so, the time came to consider my major study.  A note making a rather graphic impression is from Scheurich (1995, p. 241) who speaks of the “juice of lived experience.”  I knew I wanted “juice.”  The general question formed quickly: Remembrance Day.  For the past twelve years it has been my responsibility to coordinate the annual Remembrance Day program and the visual displays in my school.  Nine years ago, I began a small research project that involved tracing, documenting, and displaying history and photographs of veterans within the families of our student body.  Our Wall has grown to over 240 photos and it creates much interest among the students.  A beneficial addition, however, would the inclusion, in booklet form, of the stories of these veterans and their wives or husbands, to be derived through interviewing, to gain an insight and a sense of worth from the reflection of their experiences and behaviors.  A chance remark made by a veteran two years ago, as he departed from our school program, hastened my resolve to “do something.”  “Thanks for a real nice morning,” he said.  “What is going on here is just great.  I’ll keep coming til I’m dead in my tracks.”  A few months later, Joe passed away.  Because these men and women are becoming older, we lose one or two each year and it is becoming more and more important to retain their thoughts on this portion of their lives, to “rescue the events that would otherwise be lost” (Weiss, 1994, p. 2).

As part of our Remembrance Day program at the school, our veterans who live nearby are invited to participate in the ceremony.  They are presented, with their grandchildren, to the assembled student body and guests.  Although our emphasis, each November, is to express our gratitude to the veterans for the peace we enjoy in our country, there is something missing.  I have sensed that the veterans are trying to convey a part of their past to their grandchildren as they exhibit a protective aura that surrounds the children.  It is as if they see, in their youth, the reason for their journey into the nightmare of war.

As a teacher, I have found great satisfaction in the use of oral histories.  Always well received by the students because the stories are “real,” there is also something intangible about the respect shown to grandparents.  Due to the changing nature of the students in today’s classroom, any strategy that produces positive learning is one to be capitalized.  If my students were more attentive, more introspective, and more willing to acknowledge the lessons and morals found in the narratives of their elders, I consider this to be an ace in the hand of a teacher who is constantly searching for new avenues of teaching strategies.  There is a certain pride in “what my grandma did” or “what happened to grandpa.”  Because it is often difficult for elementary children to comprehend “history,” those narratives of the experiences within their own families are a perfect example of meaningful history.  When Carter (1993, p. 7) writes, “Story is the stuff of teaching,” I am convinced that we, as teachers, must tap into the vast reserves of untouched oral history before the chance is lost.

For educators within our province, we have been blessed with a curriculum that encourages resource-based learning; however, caught up in the technological environment of our culture, we often lose sight of the value of oral histories as resources.  Essential to our teaching is the human element and the meaning we derive from our changing lives.  For me, in my quest to examine the narratives of our veterans, a most important aspect of my research would be to undertand how I, or any teacher, interpret important cultural and historical stories to students and why it is an essential part of our curriculum.  Because children often glorify war and conflict, I saw my role in this gathering of veterans’ stories as a link with my concerns in developing peace education to be used in conjunction with Remembrance Day and continued throughout the year.  It is not the blood and gore that we should remember.  If young children are to be exposed to these images, a teacher must be prepared to discuss the politics of wars, the patriotism of armies, the value of negotiation, peace activism, and the transference of these issues to everyday life

The magnitude of war is incomprehensible to students in this country.  My goal was to impart an understanding of what peace really means and our responsibilities in maintaining that peace.  For the veterans, thoughts may be very clear in this regard, for they have seen the brutality and the senselessness of devastation in conflict.  I needed them to tell me how to portray this to children.  Why should children be exposed to veterans’ stories?  How would I translate these stories and ensure that the children see through the guns and tanks and explosions to the understanding of how to stop such carnage?  What would the veterans see as valuable in making young people want to prevent wars?  How could I make the lives of veterans a meaningful part of the curriculum and use their stories to develop a peace education program for my students that would deal not only with experiences on a battlefield of war but also on the battlefields of the peace-time homefront?  What might the veterans see as important in their past choices and their experiences?  How could I use their answers in helping children understand moral issues?

The veterans have locked away the memories of battle in the recesses of yesteryear.  When we look beneath the surface of the pain of loss and disillusionment, there are stories for teachers to value and there is wisdom for teachers to gain.  I wanted to hear, from the veterans, what is important for peace education, and I wanted to hear, from them, what I should do as a teacher to preserve what they have learned.

Because I have been involved for many years in the collection of stories from my own aging relatives, I have developed a certain fulfilment, as a parent, in what I will leave to my children.  That personal commitment has now become professional.  The hands-on studies of the community in which our students live offer the opportunity to gain an enriched knowledge of the children’s lives that can bring them closer to their heritage as they develop an appreciation for their families’ histories.  Community interaction with the school strengthens the partnership between the two.  Cooperation fosters a mutual respect among teachers, students, parents, grandparents, and the business community as a link is forged between formal and informal education.  The continuity of building connections between the past, present, and future reinforces caring relationships that add support to our roles as educators (Godott, 1996; Morgan, 1991; Noddings, 1991; Tratchenberg, 1995).

Table of Contents

2. Boundaries: The Methodology

Table of Contents

Life History Approach

Sparked by the work of Allan Nevins (Nevins, 1984) fifty years ago, the oral history movement has gained momentum as a complement for the enrichment of traditional historical research.  Although used by three generations of professionals, it remains a young and fresh pursuit, the purpose of which is to establish meaningful connections between individuals and historical events experienced by ordinary citizens.  Through the use of planned, recorded interviews, personal illuminations may be derived for entire eras of the past.  Stucky (1991) says, “To fully understand others is to know something of how these individuals perform themselves in the world, to know not only the facts of their lives, but the feelings as well” (p. 1).  Studying these invisible unknowns, grass-roots history is brought into and out of the community, fostering a more complete knowledge of past events as this storehouse of personal memories produces understanding between generations, an understanding that is lost at death (Allen & Montell, 1981; Dunaway & Baum, 1984; Nelms, 1992; Steinberg, 1993; Stucky, 1995).  Nevins (1984, p. 28) remarks, “...from the grave no letters are sent out to the most anxious inquiries into old history.”

The union of formal history, which offers fact-based “what happened” interpretations, and oral history, which provides a sense of personalized “how I feel about it” participation, can supplement written records and complement documents as well as provide information that otherwise does not exist (Allen & Montell, 1981).  Given today’s frantic lifestyles and runaway technological development, participants in such communication offer young people a view into a world that no longer exists.  In addition, as Kazemak (1985) points out, narratives produce an appreciation and awareness of the “struggle and pain upon which our relatively affluent society is built” (p. 211) while often providing a therapeutic value for the story teller in that past experiences may surface “the resurgence of unresolved conflicts which can now be surveyed and reintegrated” (p. 211) within the family’s belief systems and heritage.

As long as forty years ago, Nevins deplored the technological advancements that usurped the time for written remembrances such as the diaries and journals and letters of yesteryear (Allan & Montell, 1981).  Many past happenings are simply forgotten and will remain so unless the oral history movement continues to flourish.

Table of Contents

The Interview

Throughout recorded human history, stories have been a “way of knowing” (Ornstein, 1995, p. 1) and a process of cooperative inquiry that derives, through language, meaning and a new insight and a sense of worth from a reflection on peoples’ experiences and behaviors.  The qualitative research interview is used in oral history to gather descriptions of the life histories of participants with respect to interpreting meaning of the described phenomena (Kvale, 1991).  Oral historians are able to think like producers of knowledge in their quest and capture of particular evidence.

In recent literature we read of van Manen’s (1990) views about the purposes of the interview.  He describes the study of culture (ethnography), the study of individual’s perceptions of interactions in certain experiences (psychological perception), the study of people’s feelings about particular issues (social opinion), and the conversational interview (hermeneutic phenomenological accounts) that includes personal life histories.  Because dialogue encourages a reflective attitude from the participant, there is a richer understanding of the lived experience.  It is of utmost importance that interviews be conducted with great respect for human dignity and well within the comfort of the narrator (Ritcher, Shulman, Kirkendall, & Birdwhistell, 1991).  Weber (1986) writes of the element of trust and hope between researcher and narrator, in hopes that the research will be of value and hope that the interviewer will not misinterpret the intentions of the story.  “ the very invitation there is a sense of trust and a confirmation of the participant as a human being of importance” (Weber, 1986, p. 67) but being interviewed is “like taking your clothes off in public” (p. 66).

Narrative is the primary way through which humans organize their experiences into temporarily meaningful episodes (Richardson, 1995).  Narrative meaning is created by noting the connections between events and the causality of events.  Connelly and Clandinin (1995) discuss three desires: the desire to tell stories, the desire for relationship, and the desire to reflect.  The argument for the use of narrative is based on the premise that humans are storytelling creatures who lead storied lives and tell stories of those lives.  We begin to know our owns stories better by hearing others’ stories in which we hear echoes or in which we see new shades of meaning, causing us to change practices or to value the knowing.  There are multiple possible meanings to a narrative depending on the secular, personal, or institutional frame placed around the story.  There are common marks such as the search for “voice” in the voice of the partiticpants, the voice of the place, the voice not heard by outer audiences, and the voice of theory (Brown & Gilligan, 1991; Seidman, 1971; Randall, 1985).

The narrative process pertaining to my study is oral history.  Randall (1985) stresses that careful preparation is needed to obtain a quality product.  Questions are formulated after the preparation is completed and should start simply, allowing the participant to “remember.” Better responses may be the result of a clear reason for gathering the information.  Oral history has a flexible format so the interviewer has leeway in choosing technique.  This interviewing allows us to hear about places and settings in which others have lived as well as their perceptions and interpretations of how events affected them personally.  We are given a picture of what actually happened in past events or in areas closed to us (Weiss, 1994).  The eventual written story helps to perpetuate cultural strength and understanding.

For the purpose of my research, the primary function was to focus on the veterans’ narratives as telling an important moral story.  The glorification of war is long gone; two more generations have been produced since the end of the last world war.  Retelling the stories fifty years later provides the historical context necessary to create meaning that links the lessons of yesterday with the practices of life today.  As Seidman (1991) suggests, the goal of the process is to undertand how the participants create worthwhile meaning of their lives.

Table of Contents

3. Odyssey: The Ethic of Care

Table of Contents

The Changing World of Postmodernism

During the last fifty years there has been a major change in the framework of our society as the shift from the homogeneity and predictability of modernity to the irregularity of postmodernity has permeated every social mode of life.  School communities have undergone massive transformations in response to the overwhelming issues children face as they are affected by poverty, violence, apathy, racism, drug abuse, suicide, the AIDS epidemic, and dysfunctional families.  While technological advances race at unprecedented levels, the very basis of our humanity, the simple act of caring for ourselves and others, is in desperate need of repair (Elkind, 1995; Wall, 1996).

According to Lennart Vriens (1996), we are now faced with the loss of the real and natural world.  In the battlefields of poverty and violence, gone is the perception of childhood as a magical time that children should be able to look back upon with great pleasure.  The romantic love of one-mate-for-life and the maternal love of mom-stays-at-home while dad-goes-to-work provided the illusion of security and nurturing for the modern nuclear family.  The value of togetherness of the family unit produced children who were seen an innocent and in need of parental guidance, limit-setting, and protection.  The modern child viewed “family shows” on television and read comforting stories of animals and children.  The sentiments, morals, and values of this modern family have given way to the reality of marital problems, promiscuity, absent parents, children who are viewed as mistakenly able to care for themselves, and adolescents who are mistakenly seen as sophisticated equals to parents in decision-making.  The children of these permeable families watch murder and mayhem on television and, if they read at all, pursue blood and gore.  The family of the 1990s is but a pit stop in the daily whirl of activities were egoism reigns supreme (Elkind, 1996).

Schools, performing the function of in loco parentis, often treat individuals out of context with their expanding environment.  Are we, as educators and pseudo parents, creating a sense of displacement in young people?  Does over-emphasis on “self” leave room for concern about our fellow people?  Is equality and acceptance a myth?  Are we able to embrace the notion of learning to care for others and accept their differences?  We are faced with a contemporary crisis and a breakdown of community (Aronowitz & Girous, 1991; Elkind, 1996; Oyle, 1979; Trotzer, 1989).  As teachers, we relate all too well to the words of Nel Noddings (1984, p. 46): “The strain on one who cares can be great.”

Table of Contents

The Need For Care

Neil Postman (1995) describes his “Spaceship Earth” in which we are all stewards and caretakers of the earth, evoking interdependent cooperation.  If any part of the spaceship is poisoned through racism, oppression, pollution, or hunger, we all suffer.  In a world where there are more choices and options than ever before, we require a higher level of personal autonomy, a responsibility for our choices, values, and actions, and a greater need for self-trust.  As a reaction to the self-centeredness of the free market or in response to the increased violence of the streets, more adults charged with education are struggling to find ways to enable young people to care more fully about themselves and about others.  They need to know how to care for others.  Sharing is not something they do automatically.  Children learn to share by what they have seen and experienced.

Everywhere we hear the complaint, “Nobody cares!”  The image of a caring society includes families, communities, strangers, churches, schools, businesses, and public policies, but how does this caring happen?  As human beings we want to care and to be cared for.  Caring is important in itself.  Paulo Freire (1970) devoted his life to the advancement of the fortunes of the impoverished people of Brazil, saying that every human being, no matter how “ignorant” or “silent,” is capable of looking critically at the world but that he may need to be shown the proper tools to perceive personal and social reality.  Al Condeluci (1995) speaks of disempowered people--the vulnerable and the dependent who lack power due to poverty, inadequate skills, cultural differences, or physical differences.  These people, he says, are devalued in such a way that the system sees very little worth in what they can contribute.  One only cares for something or someone if one has a regard for or inclination toward that something or someone.  To be touched, to have aroused in one something that will disturb the ethical reality, one must see the other’s reality as a possibility of one’s own.  Without nurturing and caring, individual human beings cannot thrive, and violence leads to the breakdown of democracy (Lasley, 1994; Noddings, 1984; Postman, 1995; Schervish, Hodgkinsons, & Gates, 1995; Wade, 1996; Walz & Bleuer, 1992).

Table of Contents

The Ethic of Care Defined

Nel Noddings (1992) says there is a great need to examine the implications of  “a good life” and that we, as educators, have a public responsibility in the development of healthy, competent, happy, and worthy children.  She is adamant that the pursuit of academic excellence cannot be met without first ensuring care and continuity for young people.  What, then, is “care?”  Does it
mean doing good?  Does it mean doing right?  Doing what is “good” would appear to be a matter of fulfilment and satisfaction while doing what is “right” would be a question of morals and conscience.

In 1962, Martin Heidegger described care as the “very being of human life” (cited by Noddings, 1992, p. 15).  Milton Mayeroff (1971) described caring as helping another person grow and actualize himself.  Ned Noddings (1992) stressed the inter-relationships between the “carer” and the “recipient of care.”  This follows quite naturally the idea that basic human need is the desire to be cared for and to be seen as a worthwhile individual.  Noddings sees ethics and moral education intertwined with the love and caring shown in the relationship of carer and care-giver (1992) and she suggests that caring is the “very bedrock of all successful education” (1992, p. 27) and that the “nurturance of the ethical ideal is primary” (1984, p. 6).  Others have drawn the same conclusions to support the notion of maintaining and enhancing caring in education.  Chaskin and Rauner (cited by Wade, 1996) contend that caring involves a mutual connection based on relationships and action.  Years earlier, Carol Gilligan (1982) described the morality of caring as a network of relationships focused upon the recognition of needs, relation, and response in the construction of a sense of responsibility to one another.  Finally, Marshall, Patterson, Rogers, and Steele (1996) define caring as a responsibility to others rather than a fidelity to rights or rules.

Table of Contents

The Feminine Perspective

The relationship-oriented qualities of women sugest that men and women differ in their approach to caring and the sensitivity to the needs of others as well as their views on moral life.  Jane Martin uses the terms “productive” and “reproductive” to describe the respective masculine and feminine contributions to the processes of society (Martin, 1987).  As long ago as 1902, Jane Addams claimed that “social progress depended on the unique moral insights of women” (cited by Bebeau & Brabeck, 1987, p. 190).  Many years later, we hear women speak of “not being heard.”  Society’s construction of the differences in the masculine and feminine genders have resulted in the necessity for women to form female networks and organizations with each other in order to “speak out,” to enhance their sense of identity, and to assist them in overcoming the oppression in which their differences have been viewed as inferiorities (Delworth & Seeman, 1984).  Belenky, Clinchy, Goldberger, and Tarule refer to this as “the roar which lies on the other side of silence when ordinary women find their voice and use it to gain control over their lives? (1986, p. 4).  Noddings (1984) explores further differences between men and women when she writes, Noddings continues by saying that our current curriculum cannot be aimed at producing “good people” when we are producing a culture of violence (1987).  To combat the centuries of male dominated voice and experience, there is now emerging a new voice of women concerned with the responsibility for the ethic of care (Gilligan, 1977).  Our educational institutions, founded by men, for men, and based on male values and theories, give scant attention to the feminine perspective.  Ever mindful of the special capacities for the maternal attributes of family relationships involving love, kindness, compassion, tenderness, and constancy, the curriculum of our school system should consider the feminine mother model as well as the masculine warrior
model (Noddings, 1987).  Through the development of self knowledge and critical thinking programs that promote and maintain the caring ethic, this possibility is feasible.  The differences between men and women and their ethics and moral approaches are not intended, as Nodding specifies, “to divide men and women into opposing camps.  They are show...the chasm...that divides us” (1984, p. 6).  To better the lives of both men and women and to develop more equity in self-identity, we would do well to combine the strengths of both genders.  A little of each would go a long way. Madeleine Grumet’s “dark night of the soul” (1988, p. xi) for women need not exist if men and women cooperate in establishing a world for children that is rich and more accessible, where

Table of Contents

Caring in Schools

Given the levels of unprecedented violence among school children living in a society where materialism flourishes and bewildered children are bearing children, it may be obvious that they are in need of caring as well as learning how to care.  This feeling of love and kindness for all others shows one is ready to help and to serve others.  Care-givers are tolerant and serve to protect or defend others; they recognize the worthiness in each for honor and care and kindness (Katz, 1993; Noddings, 1995).

In a community structure that is split in two, wounds are being inflicted on those who care and those who do not.  There is a search for the “straight path” of Richard Katz (1993), a path for all people, a common link among people.  The necessity for sharing in the survival of the human community is increasingly evident. Katz and St. Denis (1986) believe “the teacher as healer” is a guide to make things whole, fostering connections and collaboration between the individual, the school, and the community.  “Probably the most caring avenue for enhancing caring in children is through their relationships with others in the classroom and school” (Eisenberg, 1992, cited by Wade, 1996, p. 19).

We are now faced with asking ourselves what we really want for these children we are educating.  Why must we be concerned with raising academic standards and dwelling on liberal arts when it is obvious society needs to focus on the care and competency of its children

The time is ripe for change in education and it is imperative not to create a new fad that will arise and vanish within the same decade.  While schools are often seen as ineffective and unable to address the present day problems, they are also portrayed as the saviour of our youth, for they are the one community institution that influences every child’s life (Goodman, Sutton, & Harkavy, 1995).  However, providing difficulty in the development of caring in schools is simply the devastating social conditions of the community and its young people.  Most pervasive is poverty, followed by low self-esteem.  The epidemic of behavior problems faced by teachers does not originate in the school building.  Consideration, love, and kindness are not easy to instil in children hardened to the realitites of life where there are more and more unwanted children and disinterested parents.

This leads to the issue of the scope of the professional demands placed on teacher and the resulting impossibility for teachers to become true care-givers in the sense that every child will be treated as an individual.  The carers become overwhelmed and overburdened by their responsibilities--to the point where they lose their emotional energy and require care themselves (Noddings, 1984).  Unfortunately, there is rarely a school that envisions long-range goals for the cultivation of human caring and concern.  If models of caring are to be instituted within our curricula, there must be opportunity for caring to occur--time for teachers to tend to the needs of children as well as their colleagues and time to recapture and develop the rituals, routines, and ceremonies we have lost over the years.  Teachers who suffer “burnout,” the inability to summon emotion and energy needed to continue teaching, often blame themselves for their failures and doubt their abilities, commitment, and original love of the profession (Noddings & Shore, 1984).  There is even less chance for care to exist in the classroom when the teacher is in need of a care-giver.

In addition to the difficulties in coping with behavior, and a diverse set of academic and physical problems of students, there is the challenge of relating to students with “attitudes” who have no intention of responding to caring efforts.  Sympathy comes from Noddings (1992, p. 42) who states:

As difficult as it may be, we must remember Epp’s encouragement, “Surely there is room within the pedagogical realm for the concept of care” (1995, p. 95).

Table of Contents

The Caring Teacher

Besides affecting the enjoyment of curriculum being taught, the issues of care deeply influence the teachers’ love of teaching and learning.  The two overlapping roles are at the very center of education, bringing with them a mission.  The caring teacher envisioned by Noddings (1984) allows the student to experience through her eyes; the caring teacher promoted by van Manen (1986) sees into the soul of each student; the caring teacher described by Grumet (1988) develops a look that passes between teacher and student as similar to the look shared by mother and child.  Surely all three researchers are coreect, for this pedagogy of child-watching suggests again the feminine influence on achieving van Manen’s “wholeness” of the school day for children (van Manen, 1986).  In response to the perceived decline of society, there is renewed emphasis on values and morality (Cohen, 1995).

Through our caring and our expectations for children to develop morality, we educators must be ever congnizant of the fact that we are the role models who set the examples.  Jacque Benninga (1991) refers to this as the most powerful step in nurturing character.  In teaching children to be caring, teachers must live the ethic of caring.  Teachers, being the “brokers of caring in schools” (Bosworth, 1995, p. 687) bridge the partners in education.  The school, then, must provide the basis for the growth of relational virtues.  Unfortunately, many of today’s students often lack the early beginnings of moral life usually found between parent and child.  The first step for the school is to explore and promote the value of caring by searching for ways in which to provide it within the environment and activities of the students.  The second step requires that working partnerships be established to recognize shared interests and responsibilities for children between school, home, and community.  Last, heartfelt motivation, inspiration, leadership, and commitment must be summoned from the school (Chaskin & Rauner, 1995; Epstein, 1995; Schervish et al., 1995).  Wuthnow likens learning to care with learning to walk; van manen (1986) encourages educators to retain a life commitment for hope.  Noddings (1992) has the last word when she advises that we act as wise parents of our large family and ask what we envisin for each and for all of them.

Table of Contents

The Ethic of Care and Peace Education

The negative conditioning of our western culture is bombarding our youth from every direction as their daily exercises produce exposure to global acts of terrorism, domestic violence, high unemployment, racism, sexual harassment, killer diseases, poverty, excessive consumption, suicide, abuse, fear, oppression, dysfunctional families, uncaring institutions, environmental destruction, the violation of human rights, and the “slick sick media images’ (Hammon & Collins, 1993, p. 11).  Teachers are worrying about the unpeaceful conditions of their schools and the aggressive, disruptive nature of the students who turn against each other in their haste to elevate themselves to visions of power and prosperity.  One researcher (Molnar, 1992) gives us no choice: Despite the advent of culture, humankind continues to practice violence.  In fact, Wahlstrom (1991) feels our culture imprisons us and, because we do not see the bars, we cannot shake them.  If, according to Darwin’s evolutionary theory, peace in our societies is not a natural state, war would then remain a permanency of our life, merely altered over time by the variances of social systems.  Yet, if we regard war as being completely biologically determined, we will never end it.  War, defined in the Oxford Dictionary (1959, p. 946) is “a quarrel between nations or parts of a nation conducted by armed force...hostile relations between persons.”  In the latter part of this century, the distinction between hostilities involving armies and civilians has often become difficult to perceive.  The technological advances in the development of weapons now offers lethal toys for the war of choice: “total war, war by proxy, cold war, armed conflict, nuclear war, liberation struggles, and terrorism” (Yarwood & Weaver, 1988, p. 87).  Yarwood and Weaver identify four reasons they feel are the basis of justifying declaration of war: The authors expand their thoughts on the untold military spending and the use of force in the bloody 20th century of 120 million war deaths and 120 wars since 1945, now followed by westernized “peacetime” violence.  The costs of war are great: armaments, deaths, casualties, refugees, re-building, and waning morale.  Despite the notion that some wars do have a purpose if, like Yarwood and Weaver (1988) contend, peace is established and freedom is defended, our patterns of thinking and living have been shaken to the core by wars.

From an early age, children become accustomed to violence without simultaneously learning the consequences.  For young people, life is rampant with the idea that conflict and aggressiveness lead to adventure, achievement, and group solidarity.  The global media bombardment depicting images of power and strength through stories, movies, television, videos, and toys gives youth the impression that success depends on winning.  While our educational system includes sexist and militarist overtones found in the promotion of competition, authoritarianism, hierarchical policy making, gender inequity, ability tracking of students, law and order discipline techniques, and employment expectations, a culture of peace arises from the influence of women and their traditional roles and experiences.  Birgit Brock-Utne (1989) suggests that women are more peace oriented than men, inclined to seek equal resources for all, to reduce military spending, and to promote nonviolence.  She asks if peace education might have a different flavor if influenced by feminists.  Her next argument is that, in addition to military aggression, peace education must address other feminist perspectives that include gender power distribution, liberalism’s unfair discrimination of women, socialism’s gender and class oppression, racism, and, also, the problems of radical feminism.  In other words, education for peace is the value of sharing and cooperation rather than competition and domination.  Simply because nations are not at war does not presuppose the conditions of love.  As long as people fear the values that promote violence and oppression, there is no “peace,” and as long as these conditions exist, teaching the values of caring and sharing will not make much headway.

Table of Contents

4. Salvation Through the Fathers: The Research

Table of Contents

The Research Topic

In the search for answers to what I should include in a peace education program for grade four students, thoughts had always simmered on the backburners of my mind.  Would I rely solely on literature research?  If I merely isolated pacifism how would I address the issues of conflict management and nonviolence facing me in the classroom and on the playground?  How would I
draw a parallel between the battles of wartime and the battles of peace time?  My initial plan was to focus on the prevention of war between nations and who better to question than those who have experienced the battlefield?  The more I pondered where I was headed, the more I became convinced that war veterans could provide insight to many of my questions.  Children love stories.  Why could we not also apply the lessons and morals from the veterans’ narratives to our everyday problems?  My questions eventually revolved around these issues: As part of answering these questions I would focus one aspect of my study on the early educational experiences of the veterans.

Table of Contents

Review of the Literature

After I began talking to the participants, I realized that the foundation of the study appeared to center on one theme: care.  It was, first, care for the loss of stories of a most intriguing group of individuals.  It then became an appreciative caring for the service the veterans gave to their country during a time of war. Following this, I began to consider the care for the enlisted men who did not return from battle.  What, also, of my thoughts on the changing lives of society’s children?  I care about them, too.  Initially, I wanted my students to understand that by caring for the veteran’s contributions, they might learn to care about the promotion of peace for their own generation.

And so I began to read, beginning with Nel Noddings, a guiding authority on the ethic of care.  Her work led to a ballooning examination of work centered on the need for care, the very definition of care itself, the foundations necessary for care, and the feminine perspective of caring.  The reading then shifted to care for students, care in the schools, and how to begin the building of such care.  When switching gears to the theme of peace and peace education, it was satisfying to discover how closely related these ideas are to the ethic of care.  The deeply personal peace activism of Birgit Brock-Utne opened the doors to a study of militarism and education for peace as well as education about peace.

Table of Contents

Research Technique Selection

From the list of “school veterans,” those who participate annually in the Remembrance Day program in my school, eight participants were chosen for in-depth, semi-structured interviews where procedures are organized in advance.  Questions were scheduled but open-ended plans would allow for flexibility and an opportunity to probe or to reinforce or to receive unexpected data.

Contact with the participants was made personally, beginning with a letter introducing the study (Appendix A) followed by a preliminary in-person chat or a phone call prior to the actual interviews.  The initial discussion established a sense of worth in the participant, a chance for the mutual choice of site, an opportunity for the participant to consent to become part of the study, the discussion of informed consent, the assessment of whether or not the participant was appropriate for the study, the ease in which the meetings would be scheduled with the participant, and the best times, places, and dates for the interviews.  Early in the organization of the interviews, an expected bonus came my way in that two additional veterans, related to one of my chosen participants, agreed to become part of the study.  Adding to the rapport was the annual Remembrance Day inter-relationships with the veterans.

For the purpose of the study, the veterans (World War Two, Korea, Vietnam, Peacekeeping) were identified by initials.  Their training had placed them as follows: mechanic, tank driver, telephone operator, airframe technician, salvage operations, tank gunner, radio operator, postal services, Medical Corps, Personnel and Records, and artillery.  Ethnic backgrounds included English, Scottish, Ukrainian, French, and Aboriginal ancestry.  Service ranged from two years to thirty years in the military.  During all but four of the interviews, the wives of the veterans were present and part of the interview process.  Two wives in particular made exceptional contributions with narratives of the “homefront.”

Table of Contents


Ethics determine the necessity of signed consent for in-depth interviewing due to the possibility of sensitive issues being raised, the fact that interviews will be recorded, and the possible vulnerability of the participant as the interviews progress.  Great care would be taken to be sensitive to material the participants might find uncomfortable.  The application for approval of research procedures was made to the university’s Ethics Review Committee (Appendices A & B).

Table of Contents


A set of initial questions was prepared (Appendix C).  It would be important to provide flexibility in order to listen to what each participant was saying, to listen to the inner voice that outer audiences do not hear.  My task would be to determine what is public, personal, and private in a participant’s life experiences, although they might decide for themselves what is private.  I would also be prepared to accept issues like death or illness.  If a participant risked mentioning a painful topic, I would acknowledge it but take care with approaching personal complexities that might be difficult to handle.  It would be my job to explore and not to probe too deeply.  I would have to listen more, talk less, and avoid leading questions.  I would ask open-ended questions, follow-up and not interrupt, keep the participants on topic, avoid reinforcing their responses, follow my instincts, risk asking a difficult question, and learn to tolerate silence.

It was my hope that my participants would feel a sense of self-reliance, a sense of lessening the pressure.  Perhaps they would make sense of something, personally, by relating their experiences to me.

Table of Contents

The Data

Beginning with a pilot of the proposed study, the series of interviews were conducted over a period of four months, with a total of 67 hours of conversation recorded.  Written notes, journals, and photographs were also collected.  I expected to be consumed by the research but I was careful in organizing the material, storing consent forms safely, labeling tapes accurately, noting the decision points in the process, being able to trace interview data readily, and to avoid in-depth analysis until all interviews were complete.

Table of Contents


Although taped recordings produce reliable transcript, I was overwhelmed by the many hours required to transcribe the 90-minute tapes: six hours per tape.  My written notes became my mainstay, particularly to include the nonverbal signals.  With a sum total of 358 pages of transcript, I found myself abandoning my original idea of re-writing the texts, choosing instead to proceed directly to a thematic classification of the material.

Table of Contents

Validity, Ethics, and Reliability

In doing the kind of research I had chosen, there would be the necessity of being aware of the following challenges: interviews where emotions and human experience might be neglected, interviews in which I might not draw on existing research or theory, interviews during which I would be merely collecting quotes rather than the telling of a story, and interviews that could produce trivial rather than worthwhile data.  I had to be prepared for interview errors where the participant might be unmotivated, lack the information I wished, or may simply wish to please me.  I also had to be prepared not to allow my own opinions to surface and I planned not to dwell on preconceived notions of what to expect.  It was important that I had explained my study adequately.

Table of Contents


When the exhilaration of the interviews had diminished, the seriousness of dealing with the pages and pages of data led to the realization that there was ample material for even more projects associated with community-school collaboration.  My task, at the moment, was to examine what I had learned about my delightful veterans.

We began each interview session with stories and remembrances of youthful days and I smiled at the antics of these folks.  School, of course, was a favorite topic. Of interest for the children of the 1990s, the discipline demonstrated by teachers years ago seemed to produce a sense of respect from the children.  The school was also held in high esteem by parents.  Teachers were the ultimate authority and were questioned by no one.  I wondered, as I listened, if the structure and systematic teaching of those days made it easier to recruit and train troops for war.  I thought, also, of the work ethic instilled in these youngsters as they were given an education essential for life in their community.  With specific stories to hear, what an opportunity for our students to make real-life comparisons between the two systems of education.  In addition to the discipline at school, my participants talked of the rules at home, and the variation between the feminine and masculine influences.  It made me think of the male image of the warrior code.  Was it the feminine influence that ignited the caring in these young men?  Given the present age of the participants, their childhood encompassed a time when everyone worked together to keep the family unit running smoothly.  Families were large.  Leisure time was not what it is today.  I heard several stories of the long days of physical work, yet the structure of those days produced responsible community members.

As we progressed through the memories of life as a child, we broached the subject of war, the fascination it holds for young people, and the simple gullibility of youth.  As I listened to the stories, I wondered what the parents of these teenagers had thought and I remembered an excerpt from Broadfoot (1975) where one of his narrators talks of waiting in line to get into a war so he could get himself killed.  For some of my veterans, the words and advice of parents are still with them, 55 years later.

When the initial shock of Basic Training had worn off, the enlisted boys discovered a comradship and a strength as they grew in leadership skills and maturity.  Men in war love the company of men, writes Griffin (1992), almost as if they share a secret.  The sense of community established by the military accomplishes insurmountable tasks.  Could we learn from this, in our schools?  Have we lost our community?  Do we, as teachers, take care of our own, as the soldiers did?

For the Vietnam veteran, the military family became caught in the middle of political wars, and disillusionment set in.  For those in the Second World War, however, the mood was different.  It was a world war and, in the minds of some historians, one of those “necessary wars.”  This raises issues that even grade four children are able to question.  What causes wars?  Which wars are justified and which wars are not?  Are any?  Regardless of the reasons for war, the process itself robs society of its youth and it robs the youth of their innocence.  And then, of course, there was the destruction, one of the major evils of war.  There was an uneasiness among all the veterans as we spoke of the cruelty of the weapons and the refugees with nowhere to turn.

The most difficult subject for the veterans to discuss was that of the children in the war-torn countries.  Children are the most innocent victims who are drawn into something over which they have no control.  Because I have observed the love and care my grandparent veterans show toward their young grandchildren in our elementary school, it was understandable that this subject would produce considerable emotion.  I sensed that, for the soldiers, fighting other soldiers was in the game.  Harming the innocent was not in the plan when they joined up.

There was, too, the long haul of battle when the innocent recruits became hardened young men forced to accept whatever lay in their paths.  Their emotions were dulled; they became immune to death and destruction.  Regardless of the desensitization and the on-going drudgery of the war, there were times when fear managed to rise to the surface.  As we talked of these experiences, the veterans were often quiet and pensive, somewhat lost in a time when life may have ended in a heartbeat.  In the midst of trying to keep themselves safe, there was always the added psychological warfare of the propaganda machine, made clearer to me when a veteran of the Italian campaign showed me one of the samples of German propaganda he had kept.

Although these grandfathers spoke of other armies and other countries, they still feel that the Canadian boys were the most respected. This pricked my mind and I searched for thoughts of how we might approach this in school, and how we might arrive at conclusions for the behaviors of armies.  What wonderful history lessons this could involve.  It appears, too, that wars are often won by the armies with the most effective effort at the appearance of power, so I listened to the king-of-the-hill stories of weaponry.  The worst, of course, was yet to come in our interviews.  I did not know if I wanted to hear about the liberation of the concentration camps.  No one can ever forget the carnage inflicted upon humans by other humans.  The liberation of an entire country was quite different, and the jubilation is one of the brightest memories of my storytellers.

Coming home was not always everything the young veterans imagined.  There were changes.  And, there were the nightmares and the memories.  Thoughts of the damage inflicted overseas still plague war veterans half a century later. There were those who returned home knowing they would never again volunteer to go to war.  And, there are those who have developed thoughts about the war-makers themselves.

While the words continued to flow, my mind grappled with the images created by these participants who reached into their past for me, a past of another world where boys had become men overnight.  The soul-searching and personal growth they experienced produced new perspectives for the listener in me as I began to look for commonalities and themes in these personal histories.  The next stop was to correlate those reflections in the search for the peace education values underlying the stories.

Table of Contents

5. Suffer the Little Children: Peace Education

Table of Contents

Peace Education Defined

Traditionally, education has been associated with the young, while peace has been the responsibility of their elders; however, the unleashed power of technological development has produced threats to mankind’s very survival, resulting in new ways of thinking no longer concerned with simple armies and weapons.  New images like “nuclear winter, radiation
fallout, and nuclear meltdown” remind us that both war and peace are largely controlled by political, military, and industrial leaders and that the process of education for peace now rests on society as a whole (Lawlor, Prucell, & Stutt, 1987).  No longer does peace address violence alone.  It must now recognize indirect or structured violence.  War, being a conflict of values between two factions, is explained rather well by Howard Parsons when he explains In the long and respectable history of peace education, the work of the United Nations initiated much discussion about the connection between education and peace and the use of schools in the early part of the century as initiators of militaristic programming.  The mid 1950s saw the end of the Korean conflict and the publication of the work of peace researcher Theo Lentz (1961) who pointed out the value of peaceful cooperation as well as the prevention of war.  The 1960s ushered us through Cold War politics, “developing countries,” the fears of nuclear holocaust, and the beginnings of domestic unrest on the home front--as well as the setting up of peace research institutes in Norway, Canada, and India, and the provision of peace programs in many American universities.  During the early 1970s, while the focus on nuclear armament overshadowed the growing rich-poor gap among nations, the formation of the International peace Research Association began to enlighten educators about issues dealing with peace, justice, and human rights.  The emergence of Norways’s peace researcher John Galtung, and Brazil’s peace activist, Paulo Freire, led to the ideas of positive peace and human coexistence in the politically conservative 1980s.  Underlying structured and social conditions of human interaction became the foundation of the “one world, or none” approach of peace education.  As disenchantment with changing governments and economics of the postmodern world led to the new global expression of “holism,” or universal change, the emphasis shifted among peace educators to the concern for personal peace.  The end of the Cold War, the fading influence of communist power and ideology in Eastern Europe, and the changing economic relationships between countries worldwide have forever changed our view of the world (Burns & Aspeslagh, 1996; Haverluck & Bilon, 1990; Prasad, 1984; Vriens, 1990).

As the politically influential mass organization of pacifism is losing ground, Vriens warns that, while people may assume the work is done, there is continuing concern to address the peace issues of our time.  The 1990s have addressed the “hidden curriculum” or making society a safe place to exist, to battle the invisible enemies of poverty, family violence, unemployment, and racism.  Content has become less important than who is educated, by whom, and for what reason, argue Burns and Aspeslagh (1996), a thought shared by Vriens (1996) who believes that peace education can contribute to creating a better world.  He (1990) insists that we must truly understand the implications of moral peace education standing for a really humane life that respects the creative, cooperative, and spiritual life for every human being who will pass on those ideas to future generations.

To answer the mighty question of, “What is peace education?” there are a multitude of valuable alternatives offered by dedicated international peace researchers who have advised us to be aware of the task we face.  Ake Bjerstedt (1990) has compiled an impressive summary which might be condensed to the following:

It is reduced to one common element: caring for other people.

Table of Contents

Peace Education and Social Responsibility

According to Noddings (1992) and Reardon (1993), women do not believe that war is biologically programmed in mankind; women do not believe that aggressive behavior is evolutionary; women do not believe that war is caused by instinct.  Women do believe that people can invent peace just as people invented war; women do believe that responsibility for ourselves and for others are connected to caring for the environment.

How does all this apply to education?  Noddings (1987) believes we need to include feminine interpretations of history in our curriculum.  In addition, we lack attention to self-knowledge.  We must include, through critical thinking programs, studies to understand the manipulation of people into doing evil to other people.  Students need to critically examine the warrior model in order to use its merits to promote a less violent way of living with others.

Table of Contents

Peace Education and the Curriculum

In our ever changing relationships with multicultural issues, we sense the gamut of emotions ranging from confusion, reluctance, fear, antagonism, sympathy, patronization, tolerance, respect, to acceptance.  Global education is meant to enlighten students with knowledge of other people and their cultures, to reduce misunderstanding, stereotyping, and the fear of strangers (Noddings, 1992).  In all societies, foreigners have fewer rights and, with increasing globalization there will be more of this problem because “foreigners” are common everywhere.  The reality is that race is important to people but it can no longer be identified with any one place.  Do we affirm or reconstruct it?  Should we be working toward an integrated society where race does not matter or should race help form a kind of resistance to loss of heritage?  We live in a society in which our identities are racialized.  Cultural identity is an embodied thing, and color is part of it.  The history of formal education of minorities involves the socialization, assimilation , and acculturation of people who suffer from negative feelings about their culture (Pauls, 1996).  The result is often an absence of self-esteem and identity with anything positive.  Noddings (1992) suggests that solidarity can grow simply by studying together the histories of our cultures.

Multicultural studies and experiences must be incorporated throughout the educational curriculum rather than marginalizing a study to produce pieces.  We tend to freeze things in terms of other cultures and create a “thing” rather than trying to keep it alive.  The accompanying danger is that we point to a certain group of people as victims.  What is it that our children are really learning?  What is it like to be a minority?  What is it like to be privileged by the color and accident of your birth?  Who are we in our own country?  How we view power, responsibility, and esteem plays a big part in who we are.  Recent developments in society point to increased levels of racism interwoven throughout the conflicts of our culture (Stomfay & Hinitz, 1996).  The appreciation, respect, and tolerance for cultures may be an impossible dream in many schools where parental and community attitudes foster misconceptions and stereotyping.  Martin Luther King, Jr. once stated, “We have flown in the air like birds and swum the sea like fishes, but have yet to learn the simple act of walking the earth as brothers and sisters” (cited by Stomfay & Hinitz, 1996, p. 4).

The legacy of war and militarism has left us with the task of peace education, conflict resolution, and violence prevention in today’s culturally diverse schools and society.  Working and living together in peace and mutual respect is the ultimate challenge for multicultural education.  “When we were young, it was perhaps reasonable to limit education to the three Rs, but today all children need exposure to a fourth R: (social) Responsibility,” warn Hammond & Collins (1993, p. 11).  The concern is voiced that children must learn the skills necessary to overcome the oppression that often appears to be a given norm within society.  Nel Noddings (1992) talks of the issues that motivate children to do the things they must be able to do in order to live productive and acceptable lives.  The scheme, she says, must draw attention to attitudes and concerns about care for self, others, and nonhuman life, as well as human-made objects and ideas.  Noddings prefers shared living, development, and responsibility as we respect our children and the lives they will lead as adults.  She believes students and teachers need each other to complete the circle of care.  Suggestions for programs and teaching skills in peace education should include the following (Fletcher, 1986, p. 40):

After considering the issues of what a peace education curriculum should include, Colman McCarthy raises an important question: Stephen Lewis, at the United Nations, supported this point when he said:

Table of Contents

6. Peace is a Little Bit of Heaven: Reflection of a Listener

Table of Contents

No Choice But To Care

The advantage for me, in determining my position as a teacher, is that I have many years from which to draw upon--many years that have continued to shape my evolution as a teacher.  There is a never-ending bond with that first year and those first students but the professional innocence and naivety are long gone.  Many classes have come and gone; many theories have set and curdled; many personal traumas have arisen and departed.  Today, rather than finding myself with one sole hypothesis of teaching, I have discovered that the profession requires us to continually change to meet the increasing needs and demands of a fast-changing society.  No longer is that “teaching manual” as effective as it once was.  Today, I know I am a far more comprehensive, competent, and holistic teacher.  Experience and the passage of time have forced me to accept a new way of thinking, a new brand of students, a new means of parenting, a new era of administrators, and a rational ethical thinking that goes beyond personal beliefs and values.

Moving from the early theoretical prescriptions of teaching methods toward the experiential, hands-on theory of today’s classroom has cemented an underlying core within me.  Always, regardless of the changing external influences, I have believed my goal is to develop in every child a love of learning and a desire to give his or her best effort.  There is no boundary of how good you can be.  Taking risks brings the joy of doing what you think you cannot do.

The foundation of my own love of learning is the never-to-be-forgotten teachers of my earlier school years who demonstrated their enjoyment of what they taught and, in doing so, lit the fire within me.  Now it is my turn to pass the torch.  I have learned to develop my own comfort perimeters and I have learned to appreciate a gentle, caring, and safe atmosphere.  A sense of personal values has surfaced time after time as I have tried to share my thoughts about ethical thinking in order that the students might lead morally responsible lives together as a class.  Knowing what ethics is all about develops concerns about right and wrong, what is good, and what kind of person is a good person.  As society has changed and families no longer provide the stability of years ago, teachers now have a responsibility to become parents to their students--in loco parentis--and, in doing so, to offer the nurturing and guidance and love often missing at home, and to aid in the development of moral judgments that will tell them what to do and what not to do.  These kids belong to someone.  There is a mom or a dad who has placed trust in me to do the right thing for their child.  Every child as an instrinsic worth and we have a duty to accord them the same kind of treatment we would expect someone to accord a child of ours.  I want the children in my classroom to like themselves, to be self-confident, to have great hopes and to feel that nothing is impossible.  Ruth Viguers expresses this most effectively when she says, “Children are not born knowing the many opportunities that are theirs for the taking.  Someone who does know must tell them” (Miller, 1994, p. 306).

Unfortunately, much of what we see in schools today often makes it difficult to love those kids.  The disrespect, the verbal language, the low self-esteem, the inappropriate behavior, the disinterest in school, the apathy of teachers and administrators, the helplessness and ineffectiveness of parents, the media bombardments...all contribute to extreme stress for me as well as my colleagues.  We have become psychologists, social workers, counsellors, policemen, and, most of all, parents.  As Beatrix Potter wrote, “I am worn to a raveling” (cited by Miller, 1994, p. 244).

Hearing a small exerpt from Socrates has made me realize that the challenge of teaching has always been “playing the cards we are dealt.”  Socrates wrote, “Children today are tyrants.  They contradict their parents, gobble their food and tyrannize their teachers” (Friesen, 1996).  How refreshing to know they have not really changed.  Like birds, we must puff up our feathers to exclude the cold and over-demands.  I have learned that I cannot be an island unto myself.  I have to be part of the continent, willing to ask for help and willing to learn to receive.  Grumet (1988) warns, “None of us knows alone” (acknowledgments).  She goes on to advise:

Through critical reflection I have revisited my beliefs about schooling.  It should mean growth; it should focus on the learner as an experienced individual; it should develop individual differences in students; it should be concerned with the needs and interests of the “whole child;” it should foster cooperation; it should mean behavior is a shared responsibility; it should mean teachers are guides and advisors.

There comes a time when many teachers feel a need to examine their beliefs and theories and daily practices.  When considering revision in classroom teaching, it is wise to remember that not only is a teacher part of a team but also that positive alternatives for one teacher may contribute toward the good of the entire school.  The development of the discipline of group dynamics is the core of cooperative learning.  It focuses on the forces operating in a group that affect the individual behavior of the group and how individual behavior affects the group.  Changes must be accepted as reality. Teachers must learn to anticipate change, to manage it, and to adjust to its process.  The ways in which this is resolved can be critical to the effectiveness of any attempt to solve problems.  Unless an individual is motivated and ready to change, very little change will occur.  Because the typical response to change is to resist the process, the status quo is usually defended and maintained.  Protecting obsolete or nonfunctional social systems promotes additional conflict and tension that transfers to personal and social stability.

With these thoughts in mind, I set out to weave my way through the stories of the war veterans, the minefields of new ideas and ways for dealing with children.  It seemed only natural to consider the resources in the community and who better than our elders to offer insight into the years or change.  Knowing and understanding family narratives can help students understand the histories of their families as well as the complexity of every-changing communication patterns.  In addition, there is the opportunity for children to learn to care.  Because of my past interest in oral history, and my sense of obligation to preserve the wisdom of the grandparents who are presently a part of our school program, my aim was to discover what these men and women could contribute to the development of the ethic of care and, with that, what might be done to address the issue of peace.  Focusing on peace education meant, initially, the prevention of war.  It then blossomed into the study of how to use the knowledge of pacifism to affect changes at a more personal level within the environments of school, home, and community.

As a teacher, I cannot create caring human beings simply by telling them we will learn to care.  Lessons and values from grandparents can become a very powerful means of enabling children to examine their own young lives, to promote ethical action and to foster caring attitudes.  I wanted to hear, from “my veterans,” what was important for peace education and I wanted to hear, from them, what I should do as a teacher to preserve what they have learned.  I wanted to hear, from them, if their stories offered a meaningful way to initiate a study of the ethic of care.  I wanted to hear, from them, what they have learned about caring for themselves and each other.  I wanted to hear, from them, their motivations, their reflections, their interpretations, and their feelings.

Table of Contents

A Clearer View of Yesterday

During the hours of listening to the stories of the veterans, both narrator and researcher often became caught in the magic of the reflections, and original time-guidelines were lost.  Many an evening found us parting company in the wee hours of the morning and, as I drove home, the scenes of long ago lingered in my mind.  Several stories brought laughter and I immediately thought of the fun and enjoyment my students would have if they could see these on paper.  Each story might trigger differing emotions among the children but the sparks could be kindled toward new levels of understanding of self and others.

“There is a strong need to come to terms with our identity, our past, and our legacy so that our children might better understand their heritage,” writes Marmor (1995, p. 151).  Grumet (1996) speaks of the loss of identity and of the “longing” or the sense that “something is missing” when she asks how we can bring back the sense of community and communion to our schools.  The simple act of visiting and hearing the narratives of the aging war veterans reinforced my notions of reaching into the community to find the undiscovered part of ourselves.  My research became a personal  journey as I thought of coming to terms with my own feelings.  Am I concerned with the ethic of care because of some new direction my life is taking?  It it my age?  Is the feminine part of me that seeks to nuture?  Goodson & Walker (1991) discuss the “stations” of life or the stopping places in life which are “a point at which one stands to take a view” ( p. 45).  That is where I am, I think.  At a station.  My research is a way of choosing how to direct my path beyond this stage but, I cannot care by habit.  I must learn from others, as I have been doing from the veterans.  They are the teachers; I am the pupil.  As Mayeroff (1971) has written, “Caring becomes my way of thanking for what I have received.  I thank all the more for my appropriate others and the conditions of their existence” (p. 62).

As my narrators and I talked together, we found a new respect and security for our own worth.  They trusted me with a part of their life, knowing I would use it in my plans for human harmony in the classroom.  It is a legacy of leadership to which we, as teachers, are committed.  Griffin (1992) mentions “a beauty that tears one open” (p. 318).  That is what many of the stories have done.  It was often long after an interview had ended before I heard the “voice” and I found myself seeing history from a human position as I heard the anger, the anguish, and the excitement.

Table of Contents

Conflict Resolution

In 1943, Stanford University published an education guide that recommended reconstruction of the educational program to suit the demands and restraints of wartime.  Interestingly, the authors suggest working in close harmony with the community and that the focus of the classroom should be group learning where the teacher merely acts as leader.  How fitting that we are once again hearing the same advice to combat the societal war of oppression in our late 20th century.  Given the nature of children’s lives today, it is not surprising to hear Neil Postman (1995) proclaim that our biggest problem is that our children have no “gods” to serve.

We cannot allow threats to children’s inner peace that promote fear and failure in our schools.  While I may be a researcher, I am also an educator, and my work must reflect a desire to fight the wars against poverty and racism and chauvinism and disease.  I want my students to know, as John Dewey suggested in 1902, how to learn through doing and how to solve problems rationally and peacefully.

Table of Contents

Assault of the Community

While reading the work of Ruth Fletcher (1986), I was most impressed by the organization of her thoughts on the development of peace skills.  She outlines the structured violence of our society, the prejudice, discrimination, gender inequities, and poverty, and offers suggestions for inclusions to curricula that might address these issues.  By teaching students to think for themselves, as we are attempting in our behavior management programs, we hope to gain peace on the playground.  What of our peace at home?  In the community?  In our country?  In the future?  One reason I embarked on this study of mine was to gather the missing theory and the background necessary for children to understand that their problems have not germinated overnight.  The task then becomes a transference of theory into practice.  If we understand the choices we make, we must accept responsibility for them.  The key word, in my mind, is understand.  It is not something children do too easily in their skirmishes.

Table of Contents

From Whence Cometh Racism

Reading and categorizing the many pages of transcripts of interviews produced pleasant surprises in that I had forgotten how many tangents and offshoots we had travelled during the process.  The subject of cultural differences and racism popped up more than once and I knew there was value in the words I was reading.

In a collection of work gathered about the Holocaust, racism at its extreme, it is written that “education with ethics can become an instrument of power” (Bialystok, 1995, p. 137).  If the goal of hatred is to portray a group as inferior, even the most educated society can self-destruct (Mock, 1995) as we saw in Nazi Germany.  Children have to learn to become more sensitive to stereotyping, to prevent the simmering of racism.

Table of Contents

Whole Earth Independence

The development of a global awareness involves many areas of the economy, of human rights, and of the environment.  Coexistence is the responsibility of every human being but children need to be taught the skills of interdependence.  We cannot leave them to flounder on their own.  The self-indulgence of the western world has created a need that overshadows the understanding of our lives.  Our Spaceship Earth is suffering.  In our relationships with others, we often appear to have forgotten basic human rights.

Table of Contents

Where to From Here?

With the conclusion of my research interviews, the time had come to think seriously of the grade four peace education program I would be writing during the following months.  Plans were to prepare a year of lessons that, through the use of literature, writing, music, games, drama, and film, would follow the school year and provide links to the themes of the existing curricula.  The object was to produce an interwoven product showing the relationship between the concepts of care and peace.  On the road to peaceful co-existence would be the teaching of the skills of peacemaking, as we learn what kids can do for peace, what they have done, and what they are doing.  Throughout the various strands of the study of peace, I planned to make provisins for the elders of the community to participate with their oral histories and their narratives.  Despite the domestic problems and the lack of family harmony faced by many of the students, there is a definite sense of respect for grandparents.  I felt that, through my research with the war veterans, I had discovered a fountain of wisdom for the children in my classroom.

My journey with the veterans took me on a search for something that may have started when I was young and listening to my father’s stories.  Perhaps I have now developed an inner peace or a sense of knowing where I am going from here.  The ideas that have grown out of my research have answered many questions about the ethic of care and the development of values.  Years ago, values were taken for granted and supported by the home.  Today, we must actively think about what we are doing.

It was with great reluctance that I had to end the research, for it gave me a great feeling of loss.  Because I felt that my adventure had just begun, I found myself planning how to use additional stories in building lessons that enable us to see the value in oral histories.  Without a doubt, I have a new sense of appreciation for learning to cooperate and cooperating to learn.  In developing good pedagogy, Max van Manen (1991, p. 8) says teachers “need to know how to hand over this world to the child so that he or she can make it his or her world.”  Later, he adds, “We cannot be pedagogically responsible to children if we refuse to acknowledge that we are co-responsible for the world in which we live.”  Co-responsible is the answer.  The humanistic elements of education found in good pedagogy are essential in this ever-changing world we live in where students will need to learn to think and to solve problems.

Teachers hold the power to provide a nourishing school and classroom environment that provides positive interaction between the myriad of students from various cultural, racial, and ethnic backgrounds who must work together to overcome their differences through the link of self-discipline, critical thinking, and academic skills.  Educational priorities are changing to meet the needs of this generation in the workforce where essential skills will involve cooperation, peer support, and problem solving.  We can develop these through interdependence of cooperative learning which emphasizes social solidarity and shared responsibility in reaching group goals.  The world is changing and we have the power to help our students prepare to meet their furture.  We can use the words of those who have been there.  With their stories, I want my students to know that it is possible to care.  I want them to know it is possible to change.  And, I want them to know it is possible to enjoy peace.

Table of Contents

The Aftermath

As my thesis research ended, there came the new task of developing the program of studies I intended to include in my general classroom curricula.  Oddly enough, the ideas correlated readily as the suggestions of the veterans led to a clearer view of what I hoped to achieve.  Reviewing literature and research from others concerned with similar goals, I focused on a year long program of 180 lessons that would include all the “matters of the heart” that had sent me off on the original search.

When hearing the words of a wonderful little veteran who, when asked what peace really is, said to me, “Peace is a little bit of heaven, don’t you think?” I knew exactly what to title my new project.  Included in the daily lessons are quotes, poems, cartoons, messages, music, affirmations, vocabulary, and activities based on peace.  Photos, veteran narratives, the study of world peacebuilders, cooperative games, and relaxation exercises (caring for self) are also on the agenda.  The program, piloted in my classroom last year and, presently being introduced throughout the entire school, is organized as such:

What I do in my classroom works.  And, it works because of the commitment between teacher and students.  Based on the ethic of care and the human touch of history, the teacher in me is simply trying to give the students a vehicle in which to learn how to live together peacefully.  Reflection on our experiences teaches us a great deal.  The veterans’ reflections helped me to use their intergeneratinal values and advice to shape a whole new aspect of what I do in the classroom.

My personal opinion is that we can teach children about peace but it must begin in kindergarten and grade one.  However, I also feel that individual teachers must take the initiative to choose a program that best suits their teaching style but a program they will use on a daily basis.  In addition, there must be a genuine passion for the idea.  Merely dumping another curriculum on a teacher is not going to produce quality or results.  The initiating factor is the administration and their commitment to a better school climate and support for teachers who wish to risk new ideas.  I was fortunate in that my administrator encouraged me to include my program in my regular time table and expressed continued interest in my progress.

There is a need to behave more responsibly.  There is a need to feel good about ourselves.  There is a reason to learn of peacebuilding processes and where hatred can lead us.  There are systematic ways of thinking about conflict and strategies of response.  There is value in sharing and cooperating.  There is a way to review and celebrate our friendships and good feelings.

At the end of each day, I want my students to know one thing: violence is an unacceptable way to solve problems.  And, if there is a pleasant thought for each of us to take home, let it be these words: Peace is a little bit of heaven.

Table of Contents

7. References

(The full bibliography used in the research study is found in the thesis.)

Allen, B., & Montell, W. (1981).  From memory to history: Using oral sources in local historical review.  Nashville, TN: American Association for State and Local History.

Aronowitz, S., & Giroux, H. (1991).  Postmodern education: Politics, culture, and social criticism.  Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.

Bebeau, M., & Brabeck, M. (1987).  Integrating care and justice issues in professional moral education: A gender perspective.  Journal of Moral Education, 16(3), 189-203.

Belenky, M., Clinchy, B., Goldberger, N., & Tarule, J. (1986).  Women’s ways of knowing: The developing of self, voice, and mind.  New York: Basic Books.

Bennet, B., Rolheiser-Bennett, C., & Stevahn, L. (1991).  Cooperative learning: Where heart meets mind.  Toronto: Educational Connections.

Benninga, J. (1991). Moral, character, and civic education in the elementary school.  New York: Teachers College Press.

Bialystok, F. (1995). Holocaust: Pedagogical considerations.  Canadian Social Studies, 29(4), 137-139.

Bjerstedt, A. (1990).  The difficulties of peace education. Peace Education Miniprints, 17. (ERIC Document No. ED345962).

Bosworth, K. (1995).  Caring for others and being cared for: Students talk caring in school. Phi Delta Kappan, 86(9), 686-693.

Brink, A. (1991).  An act of terror.  London: Martin Secker and Warburg Ltd.

Broadfoot, B. (1975).  Ten lost years 1929-1939: Memories of Canadians who survived the depression.  Don Mills, ON: PaperJacks.

Brock-Utne, B. (1985).  Educating for peace: A feminist perspective.  New York: Pergamon Press.

Brock-Utne, B. (1989).  Feminist perspectives on peace and peace education.  New York: Pergamon Press.

Brock-Utne, B. (1995).  Educating all for positive peace: Education for positive peace or oppression?  International Journal of Educational Development, 15(3), 321-331.

Brown, L., & Gilligan, C. (1991).  Listening for voice in narratives of relationship.  New Directions for Child Development, 54(Winter), 43-62.

Burns, R. & Aspeslagh, R. (1996).  Peace education and the comparative study on education. In R. Burns, & R. Aspeslagh (Eds.), Three decades of peace education around the world: An anothology (pp 3-24).  New York: Garland Publishing.

Burns, R., & Aspeslagh, R. (Eds.). (1996).  Three decades of peace education around the world: An anthology.  New York: Garland Publishing.

Canfield, J., & Hansen, M. (1993).  Chicken soup for the soul.  Deerfield Beach, FL: Health Communications.

Canfield, J., Hansen, M., Rogerson, M., Rutte, M., & Clauss, T. (1996). Chicken soup for the soul at work.  Deerfield Beach, FL: Health Communications.

Carson, T. (1986).  Closing the gap between research and practice; Conversation as a mode of doing research.  Phenomenology and pedagogy, 4(2), 73-78.

Carter, K. (1993).  The place of story in the study of teaching and teacher education.  Educational Researcher, 22(1), 5-12.

Chaskin, R., & Rauner, D. (1995a).  Toward a field of caring: An epilogue.  Phi Delta Kappan, 76(9), 718-719.

Chaskin, R., & Rauner, D. (1995b).  Youth and caring: An introduction.  Phi Delta Kappan, 76(9), 667-674.

Cohen, P. (1995).  The content of their character: Educators find new ways to tackle values and morality.  Curriculum, Spring, 1-8.

Cohen, S. (1986).  Historical culture: On the recoding of an academic discipline.  Berkely, CA: University of California Press.

Condeluci, A. (1995).  Interdependence; The route to community.  Winter Park, FL: G R Press.

Connelly, F., & Clandinin, D. (1995).  Teachers’ professional knowledge landscapes.  New York: Teachers College Press.

Covey, S. (1997, October).  The seven habits of highly effective people and highly effective families.  Paper presented at the Annual Conference of the Saskatchewan Council for Exceptional Children, Regina, SK.

Crean, P., & Kome, P. (Eds.).  (1986).  Peace: A dream unfolding.  Toronto: Lester & Orpen Dennys.

DeBoer, A. (1989).  The art of consulting.  Chicago: Arcturus Books.

Delworth, V., & Seeman, D. (1984) The ethic of care: Implications of Gilligan for the student services profession.  Journal of College Student Personnel, November, 489-492.

Donnelly, P. (1997).  Diana: A tribute to the people’s princess.  North Vancouver, BC: Whitecap Books.

Drew, N. (1987).  Learning the skills of peacemaking: An activity guide for elementary-age children for communicating, cooperating, resolving conflict.  Rolling Hills Estates, Ca: Jalmar Press.

Dunaway, D., & Baum, W. (Eds.).  (1984).  Oral history: An interdisciplinary anthology. Nashville, TN: American Association for State and Local History.

Elkind, D. (1995).  Scholl and family in the postmodern world. Phi Delta Kappan, September, 8-14.

Epp, M. (1995).  Implementing an ethic of care in schools: Feasible or not?  The Administrator, 28(1), 57-65.

Epstein, J. (1995).  School/family/community partnerships: Caring for the children we share. Phi Delta Kappan, 76(9), 701-712.

Fletcher, R. (1986).  Teaching peace: Skills for living in a global society.  Cambridge, MA: Harper & Row.

Freire, P. (1970).  Pedagogy of the oppressed.  New York: Seabury Press.

Freire, P. (1992).  Pedagogy of hope.  New York: Continuum Publishing.

Friesen, D. (1996, Intersession).  Instruction: Theory and practice.  Class presented at the University of Regina, Regina, SK.

Gadotti, M. (1996).  Pedagogy of praxis: A dialectical philosophy of education.  New York: State University of New York Press.

Gadotti, M. (1994).  Reading Paulo Freire: His life and work.  Albany, NY: State University of New York Press.

Gilligan, C. (1977).  In a different voice: Women’s conceptions of self and morality.  Harvard Educational Review, 47(4), 481-517.

Gilligan, C. (1982).  In a different voice: Psychological theory and women’s development. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.

Gilligan, C., Ward, J., Taylor, J., & Bardige, B. (1988). Mapping the moral domain: A contribution of women’s thinking to psychological theory and education.  Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.

Glesne, C., & Peshkin, A. (1992).  Becoming qualitative researchers: An introduction.  White Plains, NY: Longman.

Gorbachev, M. (1987).  Perestroika: New thinking for our country and the world.  New York: Harper & Row.

Greene, M. (1988).  The dialectic of freedom.  New York: Teachers College Press.

Griffin, S. (1992).  A chorus of stones: The private life of war.  New York: Doubleday.

Grumet, M. (1988).  Bitter milk: Women and teaching.  Amherst, MA: University of Massachusetts Press.

Grumet, M. (1996, August).  Restaging the civil ceremonies of schooling.  Paper presented to the Human Science Research Conference, Nova Scotia College of Art and Design.

Hammond, M., & Collins, R. (1993).  One world, one earth: Educating children for social responsibilities.  Gabriola Island, BC: New Society Publishers.  (ERIC Document No. ED373862).

Haverluck, B., & Bilon, L. (1990).  Peace: Perspectives on peace/conflict.  Winnipeg, MA: Peguis.

Katz, R. (1993).  The straight path: A story of healing and transformation on Fiji.  Menlo Park, CA; Addison-Wesley.

Katz, R., & St. Denis, V. (1991).  Teacher as healer.  Journal of Indigenous Studies, 2(2), 23-26.

Kazemek, F. (1985).  Stories of our lives: Interviews and oral histories for language development. Journal of Reading, 29(3) 211-218.

Kegan, R. (1982).  The evolving self: Problem and process in human development.  Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.

Lasley, T. (1994).  Teaching peace: Toward cultural selflessness.  Westport, CT: Bergin & Garvey.

Lawlor, W., Purcell, L., & Stutt, H. (Eds.).  (1987).  Guest editorial: Peace studies and education. McGill Journal of Education, 22(3), 186-188.

Lentz, T. (1961).  Toward a science of peace: Turning point in human destiny.  New York: Bookman Associates.

Lewis, S. (1987).  The role of Canada in world peace.  McGill Journal of Education, 22(3), 191-196.

Marmor, M. (1995).  The Holocaust: A personal encounter. Canadian Social Studies, 29(4), 150-153.

Marshall, C., Patterson, J., Rogers, D., & Steele, J. (1996).  Caring as career: An alternative perspective for educational administration. Educational Administration Quarterly, 32(2), 271-294.

Martin, J. (1987).  Transforming moral education.  Journal of Moral Education, 16(3), 177-188.

Mayeroff, M. (1971).  On caring.  New York: Harper & Row.

McCarthy, C. (1992).  Why we must teach peace.  Educational Leadership, 50(1), 6-9.

McCarthy, F.  (1996).  Values are part and parcel of education: In the school system of Newfoundland and Labrador.  Prism, 5(1), 9-10.

McNiff, J. (1988).  Action research: Principles and practice.  London: Macmillan Education.

McNiff, J. (1993).  Teaching as learning.  London: Routledge.

McNiff, J. (1995).  Action research for professional development.  Bournemouth, Dorset: Hyde Publications.

Miller, C. (1994).  Bright words for dark days.  New York: Bantam.

Mock, K. (1995).  Combating racism and hate in Canada today: Lessons of the Holocaust, Canadian Social Studies, 29(4), 143-146.

Molnar, A. (1992).  Too many kids are getting killed.  Educational Leadership, 50(1), 4-5.

Morgan, J. (1991).  From artifacts to archives: Digging into a community’s past.  Journal of Geography, 90(4), 179-181.

Nelms, G. (1992).  The case for oral evidence in composition historiography. Written Communication, 9(3), 356-384.

Nevins, A. (1984).  Oral history: How and why it was born.  In D. Dunaway, & W. Baum (Eds.), Oral history: an interdisciplinary anthology (pp 27-36).  Nashville, TN: American Association for State and Local History.

Noddings, N. (1984).  Caring: A feminine approach to ethics and moral education.  Berkely, CA: University of California Press.

Noddings, N. (1986).  Fidelity in teaching, teacher education, and research for teaching. Harvard Educational Review, 56(4), 496-510.

Noddings, N. (1989).  Women and evil.  Berkely, CA: University of California Press.

Noddings, N. (1989, March).  Developing models of caring in the professions.  Paper presented at the Annual Meeting of the American Educational Research Association, San Francisco, CA.  (ERIC Document No. ED308594).

Noddings, N. (1991a).  Stories in dialogue: Caring and interpersonal reasoning.  In C. Witherell & N. Noddings (Eds.), Stories lives tell: Narratives and dialogue in education (pp 157-170).  New York: Teachers College Press.

Noddings, N. (1991b).  The gender issue.  Educational Leadership, 49(4), 65-70.

Noddings, N. (1993a).  For all its children.  Educational Theory, 43(1), 15-22.

Noddings, N. (1993b).  Humanism and unbelief.  Educational Foundations, 7(2), 5-18.

Noddings, N. (1993c, May).  Pedagogical neutrality and themes of caring.  Paper presented at University of Alberta, Edmonton, AB.

Noddings, N. (1995a).  A morally defensible mission for schools in the 21st century.  Phi Delta Kappan, 76(5), 365-368.

Noddings, N. (1995b).  Teaching themes of care.  Phi Delta Kappan, 76(9), 675-679.

Noddings, N., & Shore, P. (1984).  Awakening the inner eye: Intuition in education.  New York: Teachers College Press.

Ornstein, A. (1995).  Beyond effective teaching.  Peabody Journal of Education, 70(2), 2-23.

Oyle, I. (1979).  The new American medicine show: Discovering the healing connection.  Santa Cruz, CA: Unity Press.

Parsons, L. (1960).  Some human roots of inhuman war.  In R. Ginsberg (Ed.), The critique of war: contemporary, philosophical exploratives (pp 56-76), Chicago, IL: Henry Regnery.

Pauls, S. (1996).  Racism and native schooling: A historical perspective.  In M. Alladin (Ed.), Racism in Canadian Schools (pp 22-40).  Toronto: Harcourt Brace.

Postman, N. (1995).  The end of education: Redefining the value of school.  New York: Alfred A Knopf.

Prasad, D. (1984).  Peace education or education for peace.  New Delhi, India: Gandhi Peace Foundation.

Priestley, R.  (1995, August).  Creative problem solving.  Presentatin at the Teachers Leading Change Summer Institute, Saskatchewan Teachers’ Federation, Saskatoon, SK.

Randall, M. (1985).  How to do oral histories or testimonies. Testimonies: A guide to oral history.  14-17.

Reardon, B. (1988a).  Comprehensive peace education: Educating for global responsibility. New York: Teachers College Press.  (ERIC Document No. ED368599).

Reardon, B. (1988b).  Educating for global responsibility: Teacher designed curricula for peace education., K-12.  New York: Teachers College Press.

Reardon, B. (1993).  Women and peace: Feminist visions of global security.  Albany, NY: State University of New York Press.

Reardon, B. (1996).  Militarism and sexism: Influences on education for war.  In R. Burns, & R. Aspeslagh (Eds.), Three decades of peace education around the world: An Anthology (pp 143-160).  New York: Garland Publishing.

Reason, P. (Ed.). (1994).  Participation in human inquiry.  London: Sage.

Reimer, D. (Ed.). (1984). Voices: A guide to oral history.  Victoria, BC: Ministry of Provincial Secretary and Government Services, Provincial Archives of British Columbia.

Richardson, L. (1995). Narrative and sociology.  In M. van Manen (Ed.), Representation in Ethnography (pp 198-221).  California: Sage.

Ritcher, D., Shulman, H., Kirkendall, R., & Birdwhistell, T. (1991).  Interviews as historical evidence: A discussion of new standards of documentation and access.  History Teacher, 24(2), 223-238.

Schervish, P., Hodgkinson, V., & Gates, M. (1995).  Care and community in modern society. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.

Scheurich, J. (1995).  A Postmodernist critique of research interviewing. Qualitative Studies in Education, 8(3), 239-252.

Seidman, I. (1991).  Interviewing as qualitative research.  New York: Teachers College Press.

Steinberg, S. (1993).  The world inside the classroom: Using oral history to explore racial and ethnic diversity.  The Social Studies, 84(2), 71-73.

Stomfay, A., Hinitz, B. (1986, April).  Integration of peace education into multicultural education/global education.  Paper presented at the annual conference of the American Educational Research Association, New York.  (ERIC Document No. ED396816).

Stucky, N. (1995).  Performing oral history: Storytelling and pedagogy. Communication Education, 44(1), 1-14.

Trachtenberg, B. (1984).  Using oral histories to elicit reflective writings: The experience of being an immigrant adolescent in the urban United States.  Multicultural Review, 4(2), 28-37, 62-63.

Trotzer, J. (1989).  The counselor and the group: Integrating theory, training, and practice. Muncie, IN: Accelerated Development Inc.

van Manen, M. (1986).  The tone of teaching.  Richmond Hill, ON: Scholastic.

van Manen, M. (1990).  Researching lived experience: Human science for an action-sensitive pedagogy.  London, ON: Althouse Press.

Vriens, L. (1990).  Peace education in the nineties: A reappraisal of values and options.  Peace Education Miniprints, 4.  (ERIC Document No. ED340664).

Vriens. L. (1996).  Postmodernism, peace culture, and peace.  In R. Burns, & R.Aspeslagh (Eds.), Three decades of peace education around the world: An anthology (pp 341-358).  New York: Garland Publishing.

Wade, R. (1996).  Prosocial studies.  Social Studies and the Young Learner, 8(4), 18-20.

Wahlstrom, R. (1991).  Peace education meets the challenges of the cultures of militarism. Peace Education Miniprints, 11.  (ERIC Document No. ED345958).

Wall, J. (1996).  Delivery of educational and social services through school system.  Social Work in Education, 18(3), 135-144.

Walz, G. (Ed.).  Research and counselling: Building strong school counselling programs. Alexandria, VA: American Association for Counselling and Development.

Weber, S. (1986).  The nature of interviewing.  Phenomenology & Pedagogy, 4(2), 65-72.

Weiss, R. (1994). Learning from strangers.  New York: The Free Press.

Yarwood, R., & Weaver, T. (1988).  War.  In D. Hicks (Ed.), Education for peace: Issues principles, and practice for the classroom (pp87-101).  New York: Routledge.

Table of Contents

Back to: Curriculum