International Conference

on
Teacher Training and Teacher Development:
Integration and Diversity

Bilkent University
Ankara, Turkey
December, 1996
Integrating Training and Development: The Role of Research

1. General introduction
I should perhaps point out from the start, for a talk given at a conference on ‘teacher training
and teacher development’, that I am not a teacher trainer by profession, although I have
operated as a teacher trainer on occasions. Neither am I a teacher ‘developer’, although I
have been involved in in-service work with teachers on numerous occasions in a good many
places throughout my career in teaching English as a foreign language. Of course you may in
any case consider the notion of a teacher ‘developer’ to be a contradiction in terms, given the
widespread acceptance of the definition of ‘development’ as something that you can only do
for yourself, and that cannot be done to you by others. But that is an issue I will return to at
the very end.

I am, if anything, a teacher ‘educator’, by which I mean that I earn my salary largely by
teaching academic courses, leading to academic qualifications, for people with the relevant
professional experience who are interested in knowing more about classroom language
teaching and learning. As a university academic, however, I also have a major commitment
to research, and in recent years I have focussed a large part of my research effort on trying to
find a sustainable way in which a research perspective can be brought into play in the
profession, as a driving force for development (incidentally for learners as well as for
teachers, but that important subtopic is well beyond the scope of this presentation).

The procedures so far developed (under the heading of ‘exploratory practice’ - see Allwright
et al., 1994) have been devised mostly in the context of in-service work with experienced
language teachers in Brazil (at the Cultura Inglesa, Rio de Janeiro, to which institution I owe
an enormous debt of gratitude for their support, both ‘moral’ and ‘material’, over the years),
with important extensions being developed independently here in Turkey, at the British
Council’s Teachers’ Centre in Istanbul. It is not yet clear whether or not the procedures so far
devised will also be able to find a place in initial teacher training, but it does seem at least
most likely that the underlying principles and some of the practices will be relevant right at
the beginning of a teacher’s career. I can certainly trace the origins of one of the main

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principles right back to the earliest days of my own career in the teaching of English as a
foreign language. And that is my excuse for moving now to some rather extensive personal
reminiscing.

2. Teaching English as a foreign language: a personal introduction

My own introduction to teaching English as a foreign language took place more than thirty
years ago now in Stockholm, Sweden, over a period of just one month, of which the last two
weeks were mostly taken up with teaching practice. The training I and my fellow trainees
received was based upon the idea that what we most needed was to learn how to use the
teaching materials that the British Centre, the organisation we were about to teach for, had
developed over the ten years that they had been operating in Sweden. The British Centre’s
view was that these materials, and the teaching ideas that went with them (which also took
the physical form of a whole suitcase full of things for us to take from Stockholm to the
towns where we were to work for the next year), represented their best estimate of what was
likely to work well with the Swedish adults who were our clients. We trainee teachers, new
to Sweden and, for the most part, new to language teaching itself, were therefore told that we
should take this initial training as a set of quite precise instructions to follow quite precisely.
That way we would be able to make a confident and probably successful start as teachers of
adults in the Swedish context.

We were also told one other, crucial, thing. This was that although the materials and teaching
ideas (virtually fully worked-out lesson plans in many cases) had been carefully developed
over ten years especially for the Swedish adult evening class context, they might not actually
all work for us. We should certainly follow the teaching instructions the first time around that
we used the materials provided to us, we were told, but if they did not in fact work well for us
on that first occasion we should at least entertain the possibility that it was the materials
themselves that were deficient, not just us. And, if we felt we could devise something more
likely to succeed we should certainly do so, and try the new ideas out the next time the
opportunity arose. And then, if we felt our alternative ideas for any particular lesson, say, had
been more successful than the original ones, we should send them to Stockholm so that they
could be considered for immediate inclusion in the official materials.

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At the time that mixture of self-confident experience-based top-down prescription and
simultaneous willingness to embrace rapid change initiated from below came as something of
a surprise, and was certainly very difficult to fully believe. Much later, therefore, when I
found myself teaching a lesson for the second time, when the first time had not been very
satisfactory, I simply repeated the old prescription, hoping it might go better this time around.
It was, however, the day of the Regional Director’s periodic visit, and she told me that she
thought that that particular lesson had not been very successful. I countered that I had had
doubts about it myself, but that I had felt it better to keep on trying with the original lesson
plan. Her reply put me firmly in my place: if I had had serious doubts about the likelihood of
the lesson being successful, she said, I should have tried to think of something better. Simply
following instructions was no excuse for a bad lesson. I learned my lesson that day, and soon
had an alternative lesson plan to propose to Stockholm.

That was my introduction to the teaching of English as a foreign language. It was not my
introduction to initial teacher training itself, however. In fact I had already undergone a year
of initial teacher training in England, before I went to Sweden, and had just qualified as a
teacher of French at Primary level. My initial teacher training took the form of a postgraduate
certificate in education, after my BA degree in French itself. That postgraduate year was in
fact memorable for a good many reasons, but the memory which has most relevance here is of
the vast amount of time we seemed to spend on determining what criteria would be most
appropriate for the purchase of a language laboratory. That stuck in my mind because it
occurred to me at the time that, first of all, it was extremely unlikely that I, as a novice teacher
in the British primary school system, would be asked to decide on the purchase of a language
laboratory, and, secondly, I could already imagine that by the time I was senior enough to be
entrusted with such matters the pace of technological change would have ensured that what I
had learned about such things at training college would be hopelessly out of date.

3. So what? What can we learn from such anecdotal material?

The above accounts are personal and probably highly idiosyncratic, but they are potentially
instructive, I believe, for the light they may help us to shed both on the distinction between,
and the optimal relationship between, the notions of ‘training’ and ‘development’ - the two
notions whose integration via research is my central concern in this talk.

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Very crudely put, a straightforward notion of ‘training’ is exemplified for me in one major
part of my Stockholm experience, the part where I was carefully ‘trained’ to use the British
Centre’s teaching materials by following detailed instructions (a little like ‘painting by
numbers’). That notion satisfied one key requirement of an introduction to teaching, that it
should equip novice teachers like me at the time with the means for their ‘immediate
survival’ in the classroom - knowing what they basically should try to make happen there and
knowing that they can in fact expect to be able to make it happen without undue difficulty.

Another key requirement for an introduction to teaching, I believe, is that it should sow the
seeds for professional development, for ‘developing maturity’ as a teacher. This I believe
was well catered for, in an embryonic sense, and in my case at least, both by the British
Centre’s policy of working constantly to improve their materials, and through my Regional
Director’s insistence when I failed to do so for my own classroom, that it was my duty to my
learners, to myself, and lastly to the British Centre as an institution, to think for myself and
try to find ways of making lessons as appropriate as possible to the situation I was teaching
in.

In Stockholm, then, I was helped to get what I needed both for my ‘immediate classroom
survival’ and for my ‘developing maturity’ as a teacher. By contrast, my earlier experience in
England, insofar as the language laboratory purchasing episode was representative,
constituted what you might perhaps call training for ‘instant maturity’, the sort of training that
tries to get you to be, as a beginning teacher, the sort of teacher you will need to be for the
rest of your working life, once you have qualified as a professional. It is a fundamentally
static model, one that implies that all possible development can take place during the initial
training itself, enabling the trainee to emerge ‘fully fledged’ as a mature teacher, not needing
to change further.

Had my experience in Stockholm been limited to the training I got for my immediate
classroom survival it would be important to classify that very positive experience also as
representing a static model, because it would have carried the severe risk, I believe, that I
would have left the course thinking that I had been trained not only for my immediate
classroom survival, but for all time - that I had been taught how to teach, and that was an end

5
to it. I suspect that much initial teacher training around the world takes this risk, and it is a
major concern of mine here to consider how it might best be countered.

In Stockholm it was countered, as I have already suggested, by the policy of encouraging us to

see the initial classroom prescriptions - our suitcases full of course books and lesson plans -
as no more than that: initial. They represented ways of getting us started on our new careers
as teachers of English as a foreign language. They were ways that were known to have
worked well for other newcomers to the field, and they might work well for us, but they were
not ways that we should allow ourselves to think of as the ‘last word’ on the teaching of
English as a foreign language. We were therefore encouraged to think for ourselves about
what might be better, and, to add to the incentive, we were actually paid, quite generously, per
lesson plan page, on the occasions when our ideas were eventually adopted.

4. Towards an integrated approach

We now have three models to consider for an initial introduction to teaching. The first two of
them, the two ‘training’ models, are inherently ‘static’, implying a career pattern of no
change: the ‘instant maturity’ model of my British training, and the ‘immediate classroom
survival’ model I encountered in Stockholm. The third one is the dynamic ‘developing
maturity’ model I also encountered as a crucial part of my introduction to teaching English as
a foreign language in Stockholm.

The ‘instant maturity’ model is just not helpful and must be discarded, I believe, if only for
the obvious practical reason that is asking far too much of any beginning teacher to expect
him or her to just leap straight into full maturity as a professional. It might well be the most
appropriate model in some circumstances (for the retraining of experienced teachers moving
between curriculum subjects, for example, when maturity as a teacher per se might
reasonably be assumed), but it will never be the most appropriate model for initial teacher
training, virtually by definition.

Having discarded one of our three models, we are left with the other two, a ‘training’ model
and a ‘developmental’ one. But it is probably already clear that I do not believe there is any
need to choose between them. They are both necessary to the notion of an adequate

6
introduction to teaching. It is not going to be enough to equip trainees only for their
immediate classroom survival, especially if that carries with it the message that the way we
teach for our initial survival is a the best possible model for the sort of teacher we can remain
all our working lives. What we can hope to do as mature teachers must surely be very
different from whatever we initially needed to do in order to survive our first professional
years. But neither is it going to be enough to equip people for their developing maturity as
teachers if their immediate survival needs are not properly looked after at the same time. If it
is taken up by itself the ‘developing’ maturity model, it must be said, shares with the ‘instant’
maturity model the unacceptable risk of inducing early disaffection and possibly total ‘burn-
out’ through not providing trainees with the practical means for their immediate classroom
survival, and so leaving them unprepared for what may be an extremely demoralising, and
potentially ultimately unsuccessful, struggle for survival.

What we seem to need, therefore, is a model for an initial introduction to teaching that
somehow manages to achieve a productive combination of the static and the dynamic, of both
the ‘immediate classroom survival’ and ‘developing maturity’ models. In the terms of my
title, we need a model that is capable of integrating training and development.

5. The importance of a dynamic conception of a language teaching career

Before considering how such integration may be achieved, however, it may be helpful to
consider in more detail the very notion of ‘developing maturity’ as a professional teacher of
English as a foreign language. I see Prabhu’s thinking as directly relevant to the concerns of
this paper at this point.

Prabhu (1987:103-4, and see also 1992) writes interestingly of the importance for a teacher of
developing a ‘sense of plausibility’, a sense of what it is plausible to think it will be worth
doing in a language classroom to best help learners learn effectively there. Helping a teacher
develop his or her sense of plausibility is, in Prabhu’s view, the best that someone working
with teachers can hope to do, the most valuable contribution anyone can hope to make. And
part of this process, I believe, can be captured in the notion of a ‘sense of curiosity’. Without
a fundamental sense of curiosity there is probably not going to be sufficient reason for a
teacher to bother to develop his or her sense of plausibility. Why should a teacher not hope to

7
find a practical way of surviving as a professional and simply spend the rest of his or her
working life teaching that way? What is so wonderful about ‘development’, after all? That is
a question that deserves serious attention, I believe, if only because it seems so often to be
taken for granted nowadays that it is not necessary to consider even for a moment the
possibility that a static approach to professional life and work is a tenable one.

Two arguments in favour of a dynamic conception of teaching seem to me to be worth

advancing here. First of all there is the probably very familiar argument that, whether we like
it or not, the world is constantly changing around us, and therefore, even if all we want to do
is to adopt a static approach, to simply ‘stand still’, we shall have to move continuously to
even stay in the same place.

This argument is plausible enough for many people in many situations, but not plausible
enough for all, in my experience. There are still many people (teachers who see teaching as
just a ‘job’) who do in fact find that they can manage well enough by ‘repeating’ themselves,
by teaching the same things in the same way every academic year, rather than by constantly
‘renewing’ themselves. For such people a different argument is needed, and my second
argument is in any case a generally more attractive one, I believe, whatever the circumstances.
It starts from the perception, from experience, that teachers who do actually simply and
unthinkingly repeat themselves year after year are not actually having a great deal of ‘fun’ in
so doing, at least not during lessons (although of course I should acknowledge that they may
be having a lot of fun using their spare time very productively writing novels, or digging in
their garden, in all the valuable time they might otherwise be spending preparing new
lessons). My second argument, then, is simply that teaching can be a lot more personally
rewarding (a lot more fun, in short) if it is imbued with a sense of curiosity. And, I wish to
contend, this sense of curiosity can suffice to lead to a developing and dynamic sense of
plausibility even in circumstances where outside pressures do not force change upon teachers.

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6. The diagnosis, and some examples of how a sense of curiosity might be encouraged
My diagnosis, then, is that we need a model for initial teacher training that integrates the two
notions of ‘training’ and ‘development’. How this is to be achieved I see in terms of
appealing to the idea that teaching can be intellectual ‘fun’, and harnessing for the purpose the
notion of a sense of curiosity. I want, in short, to see the sense of curiosity as the driving
force for professional development. But how might this be done? Some examples may help
to clarify the position.

My experiences in Stockholm showed one way: not allowing us novice teachers to hide
behind the materials, however well worked out they were, and then rewarding us for
responding to problems by thinking for ourselves, having ideas of our own. But that
experience did not include any direct attention to the issue of systematically developing my
sense of curiosity about what might work in the language classroom. It is to that aspect of the
problem that I now turn, by considering in more depth the notion of a sense of curiosity.

In my introduction I said that I was looking for “a sustainable way in which a research
perspective can be brought into play in the profession, as a driving force for development”,
and now I am using the same phrase ‘as a driving force for development’, in connection with
‘a sense of curiosity’. For me it is a very short step conceptually to go from talking about the
development of a ‘sense of curiosity’ to talking about the adoption of a ‘research perspective’,
because what is research if it is not the systematic pursuit of our curiosity about things? The
step is simply to go from something that can be casual (we do talk sometimes of ‘idle’
curiosity) to something that is by definition ‘systematic’. But changing the words we use not
solve any practical problems. What can we actually do, whether we call it research or not,
about people who seem to have no sense of curiosity? Is a sense of curiosity something that
can be acquired?

My own experience suggests that sometimes it can be. Whenever I have felt that I have
succeeded in helping someone develop a sense of curiosity that seemed previously to be
missing, it has come about, I think, because I have encouraged (possibly even pushed)
someone to think harder than they had ever thought possible about something they previously
took for granted. Another way of putting it is to say that I have exhibited unusually low

9
tolerance of superficiality, and by pushing someone to dig beneath the surface I have helped
them find something interesting, curious, that they had thought tediously obvious, or not
thought about at all.

One striking example of the latter was the time I asked a group of initial trainees I was
working with as academic supervisor to look at the classes they were observing (taught by
very experienced professionals) for examples of ‘language teaching as a public insult’ (my
own visits to these classes had given me serious cause for concern in this respect). The
assignment baffled them for a long time, and when they initially came together again to talk
about their observations they had almost nothing to say, but the next week, since I had not
been willing to abandon the idea, they came back with stories of teachers who couldn’t
pronounce the names of their students, or who used textbook materials they hadn’t previously
checked out properly, and so got into linguistic ‘hot water’ half way through the lesson, and
so on, and they had obviously learned to notice things that had previously passed completely
unnoticed.

Another striking example was the Peace Corps volunteer, also in initial language teacher
training, who told me he had never thought a minimal pair drill could be so technically
demanding to devise. But this was only after I had got him to spend far longer on the task
than he had thought it was worth. And eventually he had seen the complexities and begun to
find them interesting.

A further example of the potential value of ambitiously taking things beyond the superficial is
Ramani’s (1987) use of videotaped lessons from which teachers (experienced but not
necessarily trained ones in this case) were led to develop their own personal professional
theories (their own senses of plausibility, in Prabhu’s terms, as we have already seen).

To return to my own personal experiences with language teachers, I recall asking a small
group of British EFL teachers in Japan (again experienced professionals) to tell me what
puzzled them about what happened in their language classes. For what seemed an eternity (it
was in reality about twenty minutes) they sat in almost complete silence, but eventually one of
them came up with a really intriguing puzzle that it was well worth waiting for: why was it,
the teacher asked, that Japanese adult learners allowed British EFL teachers to get them to do

10
things that they would never be willing to do in classes run by Japanese teachers? This was
readily agreed by all of the members of the group to be very puzzling. What was curious to
me at the time, sitting there with the group, was that it took so long for it to emerge, but once
it had emerged it seemed to encourage a more enquiring attitude in the group, and it
encouraged me to believe even more strongly that pushing beyond the superficial, even at the
risk of long embarrassing silences, was likely in the end to be very rewarding.

As I mentioned right at the beginning, in the last five or so years I have been developing such
thoughts into a model for integrating research and pedagogy which I have called ‘exploratory
practice’ (for the earliest published statement see Allwright and Bailey, 1991, Chapter 11).
The work so far has been almost exclusively with experienced teachers, but the ideas, the
underlying principles and some of the practices involved, may have wider applicability and so
I will briefly set them out here before I try to identify the implications for introducing novice
teachers to the world of English as a foreign language.

7. Making it systematic: the notion of ‘exploratory practice’

The most important point to make about ‘exploratory practice’, at the outset, is that it is not
intended, perhaps surprisingly, as a set of principles and procedures for getting research
done. I do not believe that research and pedagogy can be integrated successfully if the
research element retains a fully separate identity. It needs to be subordinated to the pedagogy,
turned into a properly contributing part of it. So I see ‘exploratory practice’ as a way of
getting language teaching (and learning) done in such a way that it not only fosters language
learning itself but also fosters our understanding of what happens in the language
classroom. The key term here for my purposes is ‘understanding’, since this provides the
connection with the notions of a ‘research perspective’, and of ‘a sense of curiosity’. The
value of a sense of curiosity, when applied systematically via a research perspective, is
precisely that it offers a hope of enabling us to develop our understanding, both of teaching
and of learning, and this surely is central to development itself.

Experience with ‘exploratory practice’ suggests that this development of understanding can
best be initiated by inviting teachers (and/or learners) to identify things that ‘puzzle’ them
about what happens in their lessons. ‘Exploratory practice’ then suggests ways in which the

11
resultant puzzles can be investigated, within the classroom, without interfering with the
pedagogy, by the use of already familiar classroom activities as the investigative tools. This
is precisely what I mean by subordinating the research to the pedagogy.

To give a practical example: if a teacher is (as many teachers are, it seems) puzzled by the
way that learners seem unable to resist the temptation to resort to their mother tongue when
operating in small groups, then one way of investigating this would be to invite the learners to
use their next small group discussion session to discuss this very issue. The result might well
be (and has been already in Brazil) that the teacher not only gets to understand better the
learners’ difficulties in staying exclusively with the target language, but also that the learners
themselves understand the situation better, and try harder to stay with the target language
thereafter.

There is a lot more to say about ‘exploratory practice’, but much of it has already been said a
good many times elsewhere (see the Bibliography). My concern here is to argue that
‘exploratory practice’ perhaps offers a principled and practical proposal for how an initial
introduction to the teaching of English as a foreign language could foster a sense of curiosity
and so manage to integrate the two notions of ‘training for immediate classroom survival’ and
‘development for professional maturity’.

8. But am I not falling into the old trap of expecting far too much of novice teachers?
I am indeed asking for novice teachers to somehow be helped to learn, right from the
beginning, that classroom language teaching is not something you just do, once you’ve been
told how to, but something it is appropriate, and rewarding, to try to understand, not once
and for all, but gradually, as you do it, and as you develop maturity both as a teacher and as a
person. Perhaps that is too much to ask, and perhaps it is asking too much of novice teachers
to expect them to be able, as ‘exploratory practice’ suggests, to manage classroom language
learning activities both for their learning potential and for their investigative potential - to get
small-group discussion going and to have it at the same time deal with a classroom puzzle
rather than a neutral topic like ‘pollution’.

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It is not entirely obvious to me, however, that that is too much to ask, and in any case it is,
surely, an empirical matter, not one that can be decided on in the abstract. It is also worth
reminding ourselves that a less ambitious possibility exists, via the sadly neglected notion of
‘monitoring’.

9. The potential contribution of monitoring.

By ‘monitoring’ I mean to refer to whatever a teacher can do to become and stay aware of
what is happening during a language lesson. Novice teachers surely need to be trained to
teach in such a way that they are not so frantically busy in the classroom that they are quite
unable to notice what is going on. And if they can be trained to teach so that they are not
frantically busy just doing the teaching then perhaps they can use their ‘free time’ in class not
just to catch their breath but to pay attention to what the other people there are doing. And for
that they may need to develop their ‘monitoring’ techniques - ways of attending to the class.
These may include such things as the old trick, during group work, of sitting near to one
group but actually attending mentally to what is going on in another one, because the group
you are sitting nearest to will probably believe you are attending especially to them and so be
inhibited.

It would take me well outside my scope here (and my current competence) to try to list here a
comprehensive set of monitoring techniques. I shall have to content myself with hoping that I
have argued persuasively for the notion that monitoring could represent a significant step in
the right direction towards enabling beginning teachers to pursue systematically whatever
puzzles them about what happens in their language classes.

10. Concluding comments

My title promised that I would propose a role for research in the integration of teacher
training and teacher development. In my argument I have taken the notion of ‘research’ back
to its roots in a sense of curiosity, aligned it with Prabhu’s ‘sense of plausibility’, added the
notion of systematic enquiry (via my own concept of ‘exploratory practice’) and insisted upon
the centrality of working for the dynamic development of understanding. In this way I have
tried to establish the value of setting up the fostering of a sense of curiosity during initial

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‘training’ as the driving force for lifelong professional ‘development’. I am also keen to
establish that the working for understanding that can come from a developed sense of
curiosity is not something that you can afford to just switch on whenever (if ever) you get a
chance to take time off for further study, and then switch off again the moment you get back
into the classroom. Rather, I am arguing, it is something that can be fully integrated into a
language teaching life, on a daily and continuous basis.

As an aside, it may be worth noting that language teachers are especially fortunate because
they can legitimately use class time to talk about language learning puzzles, whereas the
situation is not nearly so clear for teachers of other subjects, who are more likely to be limited
to using monitoring techniques, rather than pedagogic activities themselves, for their attempts
to develop their understandings of the classroom. Learners in a language class can get
valuable language learning opportunities from talking to each other, and to their teacher, in
the target language, about classroom language learning, but learners in a geography class, for
example, cannot get much in the way of valuable geography learning opportunities if they
stop talking about geography and start talking about learning processes instead.

Because this work for understanding, in a language class, is something that can be integrated
into the pedagogy itself, it therefore makes even more sense, I believe, to try to help language
teachers, right at the beginning of their careers, to realise that fact, and to learn how to make
the best possible use of it, to build upon it for their own professional development throughout
their careers. I am suggesting, then, that ‘development’, contrary perhaps to those who would
have it as something that by definition one can only do for oneself, something that is
inherently non-hierarchical in nature, is at least something that it is worth using the inevitably
hierarchical situation of initial teacher training to introduce. It may not make semantic sense
to say something like ‘I will develop you’, but it may make perfect sense to say that I will do
my best to make sure that you know, right at the beginning of your career, while you are still
in training, what you can do to further your own development, and that, following Prabhu, I
will if necessary push you to think harder than you ever thought possible so that you have an
opportunity (at least) to see how much fun it might be, how much more stimulating and
rewarding your working life might be, if you let your interest in understanding what you are
doing as a teacher, and what your learners are doing as learners, become a normal part of how
you spend class time.

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To me, the above represents a very modest and uncontroversial proposal, so modest and
uncontroversial that there may well be a strong temptation to dismiss it as essentially trivial. I
hope not, naturally, and for two reasons. Firstly, I am not convinced that initial teacher
training does routinely succeed in enabling beginning language teachers to see the value of a
developmental perspective on their careers, and to see the special opportunities available to
language teachers specifically for this. And, secondly, the problem that I have whenever I
start talking about ‘monitoring’ - that very few teachers seem to recognise instantly what I am
taking about, however ‘well-trained’ they are - suggests that initial teacher training is
currently failing to help people develop even this basic level of awareness of the possibility of
using class time to try to understand better what is happening there, during lessons. We
therefore need, if the diagnosis is right, to do a lot more work to devise appropriate practical
procedures for classroom investigations, procedures that will be manageable by novice
teachers. I can only hope that the principles and practices of ‘exploratory practice’, so briefly
described here, will ultimately prove helpful in making the integration of training and
development a practical possibility right from the very beginning of people’s careers in the
teaching of languages. In retrospect I think I was very lucky to have even the ‘weak mixture’
of training and development that featured in the introduction to language teaching that was
provided for me by the British Centre in Stockholm in 1965 and now, thirty-one years later,
very belatedly you may think, I would like to be able to help move things on a little bit
further, to strengthen the mixture and make it more widely available.

Dick Allwright

REFERENCES AND INTRODUCTORY BIBLIOGRAPHY FOR ‘EXPLORATORY

PRACTICE’

Allwright, D. 1991a. Exploratory Teaching, Professional Development, and the Role of a

Teachers Association. Invited paper for Cuban Association of English Language Specialists,
Havana, Cuba. Lancaster University: CRILE Working Paper Number 7.

Allwright, D. 1991b. ‘Understanding Classroom Language Learning’. Plenary talk given at XI

ENPULI, São Paulo, Brazil. In Anais do XI Encontro Nacional de Professores Universitários
de Lingua Inglesa, 14-27. Also available from Lancaster University as CRILE Working Paper
Number 8.

15
Allwright, D. 1991c. ‘Exploratory Language Teaching’. A description and report on a mini-
course conducted at xi Enpuli, São Paulo, Brazil. In Anais do XI Encontro Nacional de
Professores Universitários de Lingua Inglesa, 160-170. Also available from Lancaster
University as CRILE Working Paper Number 9.

Allwright, D. 1992a. Understanding Classroom Language Learning: an argument for an

'exploratory' approach. Paper for the British Council Conference, Milan, April. Lancaster
University: CRILE Working Paper Number 14.

Allwright, D. 1992b. ‘Exploratory Teaching: bringing research and pedagogy together in the
language classroom’. Plenary talk for the first Encontro em Ensino das Linguas Estrangeiras,
Viseu, Portugal, May. Published in Revue de Phonétique Appliquée, Vol. 103-104: 101-117.

Allwright, D. 1993. ‘Integrating 'Research' and 'Pedagogy': appropriate criteria and practical
possibilities’. In Edge and Richards (eds) Teachers Develop Teachers Research. Oxford:
Heinemann, pp: 125-135.

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