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Lines of Practice: A Practice-Centered

Theory of Interest Relationships
a
Flávio S. Azevedo
a
University of Massachusetts , Amherst
Published online: 08 Apr 2011.
To cite this article: Flávio S. Azevedo (2011) Lines of Practice: A Practice-Centered Theory of Interest
Relationships, Cognition and Instruction, 29:2, 147-184, DOI: 10.1080/07370008.2011.556834
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COGNITION AND INSTRUCTION, 29(2), 147–184, 2011
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ISSN: 0737-0008 print / 1532-690X online
DOI: 10.1080/07370008.2011.556834
Lines of Practice: A Practice-Centered Theory

of Interest Relationships
Flávio S. Azevedo
Downloaded by [University of Chicago Library] at 22:00 12 November 2014
University of Massachusetts, Amherst
Based on a three-year-long ethnography of the hobby of model rocketry, I present a practice-centered

theory of interest relationships—that is, the pattern of long-term, self-motivated engagement in open-
ended practices that has been theorized under the concept of individual interests. In contrast to
extant theories of individual interests, in which persistent engagement is pegged to a topic-specific
relationship (e.g., a model rocketeer has an interest in the topic of rocketry, broadly conceived), I
propose that persistence in a practice of interest is best understood in terms of what I call lines of
practice. A line of practice is a distinctive, recurrent pattern of long-term engagement in a person’s
practice participation. Any line of practice entails a set of closely interrelated activities that are defined
by two structural elements: preferences and conditions of practice. Preferences refer to the deep, long-
term goals, values, and beliefs that a person develops in the practice, whereas conditions of practice
refer to the constraints and affordances impinging on the person’s practice (e.g., socioeconomic status
and the norms of practice sites). A line of practice can thus be seen in the distinctive ways that a
person’s preferences are attuned, over the long haul, to specific conditions of practice, and how
preferences cluster to form any single line. I show how persistent engagement can be understood in
terms of the birth, death, and changes to a person’s lines of practice and describe how this formulation
broadens current theories of individual interests.
Educators who seek to increase students’ engagement with classroom activities often approach
the task by designing instruction around students’ long-term interests (e.g., Eisenhart & Edwards,
2001; Hoffman, 2002). Doing so, however, has met with limited success. Problems reported
include difficulties in both grabbing and sustaining student engagement (Edelson & Joseph,
2004; Hidi & Harackiewicz, 2000; Newman, Wehlage, & Lamborn, 1992).
The central implication of this article is that these interest-based approaches to classroom
instruction falter, in one way or another, because they are based (implicitly or explicitly) on
limited theoretical conceptions of individual interests (Hidi & Renninger, 2006; Krapp, 2003;
Silvia, 2006). As a corollary, when these instructional approaches succeed, they do so for reasons
current theorizing does not fully capture or explain.
Correspondence should be addressed to Flávio S. Azevedo, Teacher Education and Curriculum Studies, School of
Education, 105 Furcolo Hall, University of Massachusetts, 813 North Pleasant Street, Amherst, MA 01003-9308. E-mail:
flavio@educ.umass.edu
148 AZEVEDO
To begin arguing these points, let us consider a model rocketeer whom I call David and whose
practice is the focal case study of this article. David first got involved with model rocketry when
he was six years old. With encouragement and help from his father, he began flying simple,
off-the-shelf, low-powered models that required no assembly or design. By the time he was 14,
David flew a variety of low-, medium- and high-powered models, some off-the-shelf and some
requiring substantial design and construction work. As examples of the latter, David was very
fond of his Paper Cup and Shuttlecock rockets—low-powered models built from reused, cheap
materials. As for medium- and high-powered rockets, design and construction took on a different
form. Specifically, David enjoyed and mastered modifying off-the-shelf kits to make them look
more powerful. To do so, he might increase a rocket’s length by attaching a spare body tube to
the original one.

Curiously, sometimes David came to the field but brought no rockets to fly; instead, he opted
to socialize with family and peers. In fact, on some occasions, David seemed more engaged in
activities subsidiary or completely unrelated to model rocketry. For instance, at a certain launch
site, David sometimes stayed after hours to practice target shooting with fellow rocketeers.
MODEL ROCKETRY AND INDIVIDUAL INTERESTS
Psychologists would describe David as having an individual interest (Hidi & Renninger, 2006;
Hidi, Renninger, & Krapp, 2004; Krapp, Hidi, & Renninger, 1992; Silvia, 2001, 2006; Valsiner,
1992) in model rocketry, by which they mean that David has a particular relationship to the
topic or domain (broadly conceived) of rocketry. Indeed, the topic-centered nature of interest
relationships crucially distinguishes individual interests from other motivational phenomena.
Thus, while David may be intrinsically or extrinsically motivated (e.g., Lepper & Cordova, 1992;
Ryan & Deci, 2000) to pursue various classroom activities, these motivations lack the content
specificity of his long-term commitment to model rocketry (Hidi et al., 2004; Krapp, 2003).
Following these theories, individual relationships are enduring, lasting years or perhaps a
lifetime, and they also change over time (Fink, 1991; Hidi & Renninger, 2006; Valsiner, 1992). In
addition, an individual interest has important activity entailments, such as activity preference and
time allotment. Thus, David seeks activities related to rocketry, preferring them to others (say,
art-based activities). And given a choice, David dedicates more time to rocketry-centered than to
other activities (Hidi et al., 2004).
Finally, interest relationships are selectively persistent in that the individual engages only a
subset of all possible interest-related activities (Prenzel, 1992). These activity subsets emerge
from the person’s interactions with interest objects (Fink, 1991; Krapp, 2003; Krapp & Fink,
1992)—for example, rockets, rocket motors and various parts, construction techniques, tools,
methods for calculating rocket stability, and so on—and the larger social environments that the
person encounters.
As we will see, David is indeed deeply committed to a set of activities that are tightly
interrelated and that significantly intersect with model rocketry. However, a close inspection of
his practice raises issues that are not well explained by theories of individual interests. To begin,
David’s persistence in model rocketry seems to be at least in part explained by the rich and
multifaceted social encounters that surround it, not solely by the topic or domain of rocketry.
LINES OF PRACTICE 149
David’s hobby functions as an important arena for cultivating family ties and friendships, and
these social patterns of engagement seem fundamental to his continued pursuit of model rocketry.
To be fair, psychologists agree that these patterns of long-term persistence are complex and
that other “factors” must be involved. For example, the value and positive affect that an individual
nurtures toward an object of interest have been proposed as important factors motivating the
person’s continued engagement with the object (e.g., Hidi, 2006; Hidi et al., 2004; Renninger,
1992, 2000). Yet, how these interacting factors contribute to persistence over time remains to be
explained in detail.
Similarly, how do we understand David’s persistence in model rocketry in light of its interrela-
tion with other practices in which he participates? For instance, suppose we find that tool use and
machining parts occupy much of David’s time in model rocketry, and they also extend into other
practices across different realms of his life. Might tool use and machining be David’s real “inter-
est” and rocketry “simply” a context for engaging these activities? Or might these activities and
model rocketry be distinct individual interests of David’s, and they happen to interact felicitously
across many contexts? How can we be sure? And how might we model these complexities?
A final sticky point concerns the assumption that well-developed interests such as David’s are
richly represented in the individual’s cognitive and affective systems (Hidi & Renninger, 2006;
Krapp, 2003) to the extent that they gain independence from the contexts in which they were
constructed, making an individual interest less dependent on favorable environmental conditions
(Boekaerts & Boscolo, 2002, p. 278). Thus, while an individual interest may need nurturing in
its initial stages, once fully developed it is expected to be autonomous and context-independent.
However, my data suggest that David’s continued pursuit of model rocketry is not context-free,
but rather a highly qualified affair (cf., Schraw & Lehman, 2001). As an illustration, David takes a
very pragmatic approach to rocketry and he never formally calculates the stability of his rockets.
Were such procedures required in the rocketry clubs that he frequents, David would almost
certainly give up on the practice, or at least change it significantly. In fact, as we will see, his
long-term patterns of rocketry participation are constantly shifting, often as a result of changing
contexts of practice. It is far from clear that his hobby would survive the combined change of one
or two “factors” in their contexts of practice.
Sociocultural perspectives concur that people develop long-term dispositions (e.g., Gresalfi,
2009; Gresalfi & Cobb, 2006) to engage certain activities for their intrinsic qualities but, in addi-
tion, stress the inextricably social roots of people’s growing selves (Vygotsky, 1978). Consider:
“Effective learning involves being strongly engaged in activities that capture the learner’s interests
because of their intrinsic qualities as well as participation in communities” (Greeno, Collins, &
Resnick, 1996, p. 26). People’s developing interests, therefore, are not simply influenced by the
social, cultural, and institutional milieu they inhabit, but more fundamentally emerge from “bits
and pieces” of activities that are valued by the communities of practice of which they are mem-
bers (Azevedo, 2006; Engle & Conant, 2002; Greeno & the Middle School Mathematics Through
Applications Project Group, 1998; Herrenkohl & Guerra, 1998; Hickey, 1997, 2008; Hickey &
McCaslin, 2001; Nolen, 2007; Pressick-Kilborn & Walker, 2002, 2004; Walker, Pressick-Kilborn,
Arnold, & Sainsbury, 2004). Thus, the focus of sociocultural theories is not primarily on indi-
viduals’ behavior and pursuits, but on how the immediate and distal environments continuously
afford opportunities for different forms of participation in a practice.
Lave and Wenger’s (1991) influential study of the organization of apprenticeship prac-
tices illustrates this point. Specifically, they describe a mechanism—legitimate peripheral
150 AZEVEDO
participation—whereby newcomers to a community of practice constantly move between pe-

ripheral and more central forms of participation. Critically, movement between periphery and
center depends on practitioners’ access to various resources in the community, including material
infrastructures and more capable peers.
At shorter timescales, Rogoff, Paradise, Arauz, Correa-Chávez, and Angelillo (2003) describe
a mode of participation characterized by a child’s close observation of collective activity in antic-
ipation of becoming actively involved in shared endeavors. They term this mode of participation
intent and illustrate it with several examples in which children participate informally in mature
activities central to a community’s life.
Common to both Lave and Wenger (1991) and Rogoff et al. (2003) is the idea that people’s
motivation to engage in a practice over the long haul follows from the sense of future imparted
by the practice and the communities that define and enact it. In addition, newcomers can see
the importance of their contributions to the group’s ongoing functioning, and this adds meaning
and further motivates their actions. These observations are important because they shed light on
the tight coupling between the nature of communities and individuals’ participation. However,
they do not address the specifics of individual variability in engaged forms of participation,
short and long term. No two individuals pursue the same long-term trajectories in a practice, nor
do they engage the practice the same way on a moment-by-moment basis. Put differently, the
idiosyncratic character of people’s long-term pursuits is a hallmark of exercising an individual
interest (e.g., Hidi & Renninger, 2006; Krapp, 2003; Renninger, 1992). Indeed, there is as much
variation in model rocketeers’ activities and hobby trajectories as there are similarities. How do
we capture and explain individual differences in engaged forms of participation that occur within
shared, community-sanctioned practices?
To address this question, some researchers have set out to map the structure of long-term,
interest-based participation. Pressick-Kilborn and Walker (2002, 2004; Walker et al., 2004),
for instance, did so by investigating the process through which students’ interests in science
developed from fleeting moments of willful attention to more enduring dispositions. Pressick-
Kilborn and Walker (2002) analyzed a fifth grader’s (Michaela) shifting engagement during a
unit on electric circuits. At first, and in spite of the teacher’s efforts and encouragement, Michaela
actively resisted taking part in the proposed activities. With time, however, she became excited
and applied herself with heart to a “design, make and appraise task” introduced halfway through
the unit (p. 173). Given several project choices, Michaela took on the job of designing and building
an electric torch, a tool that she intended to use in the upcoming “Dads and Daughters” school
camp. She even took the task home and involved her father in rehearsing the construction of the
device.
The authors convincingly show that people’s activities reflexively build on one another’s.
Michaela’s emergent motivation to engage in the artifact design task resulted in her increased
participation in her small group’s work, which in turn transformed the dynamics of the group’s
pursuits. Furthermore, Pressick-Kilborn and Walker highlight how activities often stretch across
sites and communities of practice—that is, the classroom and the home—and this is critical for
sustaining and developing students’ interests.
Similarly, Nolen (2007) investigated students’ growing interests in reading and writing by
following a number of students in language arts classes, as they progressed from grades 1 through
3. Nolen observed several classrooms, making sure to link teachers’ differentially enacted literacy
practices and their effects on students’ growing literacy dispositions and skills. Individual student
interviews across grade levels, teacher interviews, and classroom observations comprise the raw
data of the study.
Nolen found that students developed increasingly more sophisticated motivations to participate
in reading and writing activities. With regard to reading, students in grade 1 appeared to have a
broad, unfocused interest in certain literate genres. By grade 3, however, these same students had
developed a more differentiated, long-term stance toward these genres, including an appreciation
of certain book series, authors, and their writing styles. Moreover, students also developed
additional motivations to read. First-grade students seemed to read to enjoy specific books and
genres. But by grade 3, in addition to genres and specific books, students began nurturing an
interest in particular topics and features of the activity of reading.
Nolen’s work shows that individuals develop multiple reasons to engage an object of interest
continuously—a point we have briefly seen with regard to David’s model rocketry practice.
Similar to Pressick-Kilborn and Walker’s studies, however, Nolen stops short of providing a
theoretical account that can capture and explain patterns in interest-based pursuits, within and
across individuals. What motivations does a person engage in a given activity, and how are these
continuous with other aspects of his/her life? Do these motivations interact? If so, how do we
model these? And how do such motivations systematically interact, over the long haul, with
various aspects of the context in which they are enacted? What is similar and what is different in
patterns of long-term engagement of different people?
THE FOCUS OF THE ARTICLE: PERSISTENCE IN OPEN-ENDED,

SELF-MOTIVATED PRACTICES
To begin addressing these issues, I develop an alternative, practice-centered theory of persistent

engagement (or simply persistence) as it obtains in interest relationships. In doing so, I reify
interest relationships as object of study, treating phenomena characteristic of elective, extended
pursuits in open-ended practices as needing explanation. Indeed, I take it that capturing and ex-
plaining the idiosyncratic character of people’s interest-based pursuits—and therefore accounting
for individual differences that result in the process—is a central task of any theory of persistent
engagement. Because this work has been most prominently the purview of theories of individual
interests, I borrow from their insights and direct much of my comments to that line of work.
At the same time, rather than assuming that interest relationships are essentially and directly
topic-centered, I suggest that persistent engagement emerges from the totality of one’s experiences
in the practice. Understanding persistent engagement in a practice of interest, therefore, requires
uncovering how such a practice is continuously made relevant to a person’s life. In this regard,
my theorizing takes many cues from the sociocultural and ethnographic approaches considered
earlier.
Focusing on model rocketry has been critical to this endeavor. Hobbies are paradigmatic of
elective, self-directed, open-ended practices (diSessa, 2000; Valsiner, 1992), and thus they offer an
excellent window into the multiple and diverse trajectories of participation that individuals carve
for themselves. Within this context, I take a middle ground analytical approach that does justice
to the contributions of individuals and communities, and links the functioning of both to broader
structures of context (e.g., physical and institutional). Additionally, because individual interests
refer to extended patterns of practice participation, I look at individual hobbyist’s practices over
152 AZEVEDO
the very long term. Doing so reveals a more textured phenomenology of interest relationships
and sharpens our understanding of the object of people’s persistence.
The article is structured as follows. In the next section, I describe the theoretical framework
guiding my inquiry, followed by an initial sketch of the methods I used. I then present some data
on the practices of two model rocketry communities, as well as data on David’s instantiation of
the hobby. Next, I work in two broad analytical passes through the data, first introducing my
theory of persistent engagement and then adding details to it. I close by discussing how my theory
begins to improve on extant theories of individual interests, as well as its limitations.
THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK
Although an interest appears first as a curiosity or attraction (Hidi & Renninger, 2006), with time
it evolves and becomes established as a fabric of activities (diSessa, 2000). Framed in this manner,
several strands of social, cultural, and historical approaches to the study of social practices (e.g.,
Cole, 1996; Lave, 1988; Lave & Wenger, 1991; Saxe, 1991; Scribner, 1985; Wertsch, 1985) bear
on my research. For instance, Rogoff (1991, 1995, 1997) advances a framework in which human
development and learning are understood in relation to personal, interpersonal, and community
planes of activity. The developmental processes taking place in each of these planes are named
participatory appropriation, guided participation, and apprenticeship, respectively.
To exemplify with model rocketry, participatory appropriation—that is, the personal/individual
plane of activity—may be observed in a rocketeer’s evolving understanding of rocket motors and
stability, as he/she actively contributes to collective practice. At the interpersonal plane of activity,
guided participation may be seen in rocketeers’ multifaceted exchanges and their role in guiding
practitioners towards more mature forms of participation. Finally, apprenticeship processes are
seen in the evolving norms and values of a rocketry community or club, and the way these frame
collective activity.
One of Rogoff’s key concerns is highlighting the mutuality of events and processes across
the planes that she identifies. Processes occurring at the personal, interpersonal, and community
planes are mutually constitutive, and foregrounding any single plane for analysis requires constant
attention to events taking place in other planes. To use a hypothetical example, changes in the
flight ceiling allowed in a given practice site—a process taking place at the community plane of
activity—might impact a rocketeer’s participation, strengthening some activities in the hobbyist’s
repertoire while diminishing or extinguishing others. By the same token, such changes might
encourage entirely different pursuits, perhaps taking one’s hobby in new directions. A significant
aspect of my project regards uncovering relationships between collective practice and its shaping
of hobbyists’ persistent pursuits.
Beyond this general framing, however, observations on the nature of persistent engagement
in open-ended practices introduce specific analytical and empirical demands (Hall, 2001). In
particular, because my project entails accounting for and explaining the manifest variety across
rocketeers’ pursuits, as well as uncovering how persistence in practice obtains in each case, it is
necessary to document the specifics of individuals’ hobbies and the way these differ. To aid this
task, I borrow selectively from additional theoretical tools and empirical approaches.
Following activity theory (e.g., Engeström, 1987; Nardi, 1996; Wertsch, 1981) and distributed
frames of cognition (Hutchins, 1995, 1998), I focus on the material aspects of hobbyists’ practice
in two specific ways. The first regards the artifact- and tool-mediated character of activities—that
is, the material means through which individuals achieve their practice goals. Specifically, I look
at the tools hobbyists continuously utilize in their practices, and attempt to link tool/artifact use to
hobbyists’ emerging and long-term goals. The second concerns the materiality of people’s goals,
as expressed in the physical and conceptual objects that are important targets of their long-term
practice participation.
This focus on the material aspects of hobbyists’ persistent engagement is further warranted
by an insight from theories of individual interests—that is, that interest relationships are densely
populated with objects of primary, long-term concern to the person. In person-object (P-O)
theories of interest (Fink, 1991; Krapp, 2003), interest objects are regarded as primary “sources”
of energy in topic-centered engagement (Hidi & Renninger, 2006). In model rocketry, for instance,
rockets are often prominent interest objects and play a central role in rocketeers’ practices.
Different from P-O formulations, however, I do not assume that a person’s continued engage-
ment with an interest object is always centrally (or even typically) concerned with the object itself.
Following activity theory, it is possible that interest objects simply mediate several aspects of a
person’s continued participation in the practice and therefore function as vehicles for the person’s
achieving multiple practice goals. As an example, a model rocketeer’s persistent engagement
with low-powered models may be fundamentally tied to advancing social goals, such as making
new friends and strengthening existing relationships. Context is key here: Across situations and
time, interest objects may serve different purposes and function to sustain engagement in more
complex ways than frequently assumed.
Finally, implicit in the arguments thus far is the stance that the best way to understand
human behavior is to follow its development (Vygotsky, 1978). Several approaches have been
proposed for the task. For instance, in Saxe’s (1991, 1992, 1999, 2002) studies of mathematical
activity in- and out-of-schools, shifts in the functions fulfilled by particular cultural forms (say,
currency and graphs) help illuminate the evolving reasoning of individuals. Although here I am
not concerned with form-function shifts, in part my task involves uncovering how cultural forms
(e.g., rockets, methods of calculating rocket stability) prominent in a hobbyist’s practice come to
serve different functions. Tracking changes in a hobbyist’s long-term participation is an expedient
way to understanding the stable, long lasting, and therefore centrally constituent aspects of the
person’s persistence in the practice.
METHODS
The empirical base for the research is a three-year, comparative ethnography of model rocketry
and amateur astronomy hobby practices. For simplicity and depth of treatment, here I focus
exclusively on model rocketeers and their practices. I report on the amateur astronomy data
elsewhere (Azevedo, 2005, 2010).
Following an often-deployed procedure, in my second visit to a model rocketry club I recruited
David as my informant. Soon after, David became a focal subject of the study. In search of
common and idiosyncratic patterns of practice participation, I compared and contrasted David’s
daily and long-term routines to those of additional subjects—most prominently Bill and George,
but also many other rocketeers who also volunteered comments and explanations to me, especially
Allan and Steven. In some important respects, therefore, the research is organized as a series of
154 AZEVEDO
comparisons across dimensions of community and private practice (Hall, 1999); each comparative
dimension may be seen to contribute layers of generalization to my theorizing.
In ethnographic fashion, my role was that of a participant observer (Davis, 1999; Hammersley
& Atkinson, 1995) in two model rocketry communities from June 2000 to August 2003. As
a participant, I built and flew rockets, visited hobby stores and actively interacted with store
personnel, read model rocketry books, magazines and websites, and developed a close relationship
with several members of rocketry communities. As an observer, I recorded communities’ and
individuals’ activities in videotapes and field notes (FN) and, whenever possible, collected artifacts
produced by rocketeers. As a general rule, and given the leisurely nature of hobbies, I opted for
the least intrusive method of data collection on a moment-by-moment fashion.
All videotapes—about 20 hours—were logged for contents at the individual, interpersonal,

and community planes (Rogoff, 1995). At the individual level, logs documented activities that
were obviously hobby-related (e.g., flying rockets or chatting about rocketry), but also those
extending beyond hobby practice (e.g., David’s occasional, after-hours target shooting with
fellow rocketeers). This is in keeping with the theoretical commitment that David’s continued
participation in model rocketry flows organically from its connections to other practices in his
life.
While interacting with rocketeers in the field, I often queried them about specific aspects
of their practices. In addition, following narrative analysis (Labov, 1997), I asked rocketeers to
reconstruct the history of their practice, as well as the history of specific projects (e.g., a given
rocket or flight).
The core of my analytical procedures was the grounded theoretical methodology (Charmaz,
1990, 2001; Corbin & Strauss, 1990; Glaser & Strauss, 1967; Harry, Sturges, & Klingner, 2005;
Strauss & Corbin, 1990, 1994), which outlines a method for systematically developing theories
that are grounded in the data. Central to holding theorizing accountable to data is the method of
constant comparison—a process in which conceptual categories reflecting emergent analytical
codes are iteratively refined in subsequent data collection. To illustrate my treatment of data, let
us briefly look at the evolving coding of a piece of video log.1
6/25/2000
We’re sitting next to David’s father’s van and David is describing his practice. Meanwhile, rockets
are being launched. Bill (David’s friend) sometimes approaches us and offers some comments. He
flew one or two rockets while I chatted with David, but I missed what these rockets were.
David: “I’m building all kinds of stuff now that not even my dad or anyone else can build . . .
shuttlecocks, bottle rockets, and I’ve got a ((unint)) feet rocket there ((points to van)). I
1The following conventions are used for transcribing participants’ talk (adapted from Hall & Stevens, 1995):
... Ellipses show pauses of less than three seconds

:: Extending vowel sound (e.g., No::)
(()) Author’s comments or description of activity
[ Beginning of overlapping talk
unint Unintelligible talk
caps EMPHATIC talk
also found out some good techniques, I mean as in good supplies and stuff. Like a cheap
way to get wadding.”
Flávio: “So it seems like you’re really into building these things.”
David: “Oh yeah, it’s great, it’s very fun . . . yeah, even dealing with glue and everything.”
This excerpt is taken from the activity log of my second encounter with David and is enhanced
with a more detailed transcription of participants’ talk, for the sake of analysis. In the initial,
open coding phase of the process, the piece above was coded as: (1) rockets, (2) construction,
(3) techniques, and (4) materials. Materials itself was a category containing the subcategories of
glue and wadding. In the second, axial phase of coding, codes generated previously were grouped
according to conceptual categories that reflected commonalties among codes. To exemplify,

because the category techniques referred to aspects of David’s rocket building, it was linked to,
though not conflated with, the category construction.
Pragmatically, new categories emerged across several additional phases of data analysis and
collection and still other categories were abandoned or transformed. As an example of the former,
design—a theme present in the log excerpt above, but prematurely sidelined in the initial coding
phases—revealed itself to be a dominant aspect of David’s practice. Thus, design eventually
became an independent and strong organizing theme in the way David seemed to structure his
hobby.
Continued refinement of conceptual categories led to the identification of patterns in the
idiosyncratic ways in which individuals engage their hobby practices. These patterns reflect the
various motives that a hobbyist develops in the practice and the way these are differentially
attuned to the constraints and affordances offered by the practice. For instance, David’s rocket
designs (which reflect his deep valuing of design activities) are sensitive to such things as the
physical characteristics of flight sites and his practice budget, among others.
I will have much to add to the grounded theoretical process sketched earlier. Before doing
so, however, I present some baseline data on the functioning of model rocketry clubs as well
as David’s instantiation of the hobby. This will familiarize the reader with the larger “space” of
rocketry practice and will aid the understanding of the iterative refinement of analytical categories
that appear in subsequent sections.
THE PRACTICE OF MODEL ROCKETRY
Model rocketry is the practice of flying reduced-scale rockets—one’s own original creations or
versions of commercial, fictional, experimental, and military rockets, among others (e.g., Stine,
1983). In order to fly a rocket one may either build it from scratch or buy a kit from a hobby
store. Kits come in many forms and shapes; some require one to simply attach the motor to the
rocket’s body, whereas others may require simple construction (e.g., sanding parts and gluing)
and still others call for complex building procedures. Kits are labeled with the skill level required
in assembling the model (1, 2, and 3, in ascending order of difficulty).
Rockets are powered by motors, which are widely available in hobby stores. Model rocketry
motors are tagged with a standard code of letters and numbers that describe the motor’s technical
specifications, such as its power and thrust. A motor tag always starts with a letter, which represents
the total impulse delivered by the motor. Lettering convention is somewhat idiosyncratic and
156 AZEVEDO
follows the progression 1/4A, 1/2A, A, and then B, C, D . . . H. More powerful motors also exist,
but were not allowed in the sites I visited regularly.
I followed collective, public launches in two rocketry clubs in the San Francisco Bay Area. Each
club is a self-contained, independent community of practice with its own norms and standards
of practice. The first club, called LocalNAR,2 met every other Sunday, from 2:00 to 5:00 p.m.
Rockets launched at the LocalNAR site may be equipped with motors of, at most, G designation.
However, because of the local geography (i.e., surrounding streets, trees and buildings), many
practitioners tend to fly low-end models in order to avoid losing their rockets. High-flying models
are subject to wind drifts and may land off the launch site or, more commonly, on one of many
adjacent trees.
DistantNAR—so named because of its relative distance from subjects’ homes—is another
chapter of NAR that meets once every month. The DistantNAR site is an ample soccer field
covered with grass and surrounded by almost no trees or other landmarks, and the club sponsors
flights with motors up to H power.3 Because of that and the favorable geography, launches of
higher-powered rockets are much more common at DistantNAR than LocalNAR. The club’s
monthly events are held on a Saturday, from 8:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. Twice a year they run night
launch events, running from 4:00 p.m. to 10:00 p.m., in lieu of their monthly day launches.
Participants
Participants at both LocalNAR and DistantNAR tend to be parents and their children, who may be
as young as four years old. The old-timer rocketeers tend to be almost exclusively males, whereas
younger practitioners are about 35% female. In some cases, parents come with their children,
but many youngsters develop completely independent practices. This is the case of both Bill and
George, both of whom started rocketry with their fathers but have long cultivated a hobby practice
that deeply reflects their identities and material conditions.
Bill is a Caucasian in his early thirties who works in a video rental store. A film aficionado,
Bill uses his job to watch as many movies as possible, many of which relate to rockets, avionics,
and space exploration. As it turns out, Bill is a history buff, particularly as it connects to his
strong identity as an American. Thus, movies and rocketry afford him a way of relating to key
American technological and scientific achievements, as well as to various leisurely aspects of his
life.
George is a Chinese American, also in his early thirties. He is a software engineer with
knowledge of a number of technical and scientific disciplines. George has a very large number
of rockets, capable of flying across a range of motor powers, and he is very active in the practice.
2There are two nationwide rocketry associations. The National Association of Rocketry (NAR) is the largest and
has chapters throughout the country. Tripoli congregates rocketeers who fly very high-powered rockets (i.e., up to J
designation).
3To fly H (or higher) motors, however, one needs to be certified. Briefly, certification requires passing a multiple-
choice test (taken on spot) on model rocketry basics and successfully flying and retrieving a rocket equipped with an H
(or higher) motor. None of the subjects in this study is certified, although George aimed to be so one day.
FIGURE 1 Schema of the LocalNAR site. Inset (a): The rocket inspection desk and the inspector busy at work; Inset
(b): The launch desk; Inset (c): Launch pads.
A Day at the Launch Site
Because all rocketry sites are organized in similar ways, I use the LocalNAR site (Figure 1)
to exemplify the formal and informal routine activities of collective model rocketry practice.
Participants attending LocalNAR events usually drive to the site. Upon arriving, people park their
cars in a single row along one of the edges of the area where launches are held. Once parked,
rocketeers “set camp,” which may mean setting up portable chairs and perhaps a table, or simply
opening the car’s back door or trunk. The area around parked cars functions both as a space for
socializing and as an ad hoc “exhibit” of rockets.
To fly a rocket, one must first subject the model to inspection, performed at the inspection desk
(Figure 1a) by a person formally known as Rocket Control Inspector. Inspection is intended to
detect any problems that might make a model’s launching risky. For instance, a slightly cracked
fin might signal some instability in the model and therefore the risk that it could fly astray. If
any such problem is detected, the inspector may explain the problem to the rocketeer and suggest
possible fixes. Alternatively, the inspector may help the rocketeer fix the problem on the spot.
Small problems, such as a badly folded parachute, are particularly amenable to quick fixes.
Once a rocket has been cleared to fly, its owner may walk toward the launch area, which
serves as a waiting point for rocketeers in the upcoming launch batch. Access to the launch pads
(Figure 1b) is granted after rockets in the current batch have been launched. When the field opens,
practitioners head to the launch pad area and attach their rockets to one of eleven numbered pads.
Although this process is straightforward, practitioners may stick around the launch pad area,
either helping less experienced peers or simply chatting.
Finally, a launch procedure is enacted for each rocket in the pads (Figure 1c). Launches of
individual rockets are preceded by common safety checks, carried out by the launch director.
These checks are meant to catch low flying airplanes or people who may have inadvertently
entered the safety area.
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DAVID: A CASE STUDY IN MODEL ROCKETRY
David was 14 years old when I first met him and has been practicing rocketry since he was 6. At
about that age, David became a member of LocalNAR and has since been participating in their
events. David is also a member of DistantNAR and he attends their launches regularly.
David always comes to the rocketry field with his father, Ervin, who does the driving. David’s
mother (Sandra) and grandfather (Bob) may occasionally join in at LocalNAR events. The more
remote nature of DistantNAR’s site seems to keep the extended family away, and only Ervin
comes along to those events. In the past, Ervin used to participate actively in designing and
building rockets. These days he may help David set up rockets in the launch pad and retrieve
rockets. He occasionally provides David with some technical orientation, inspects the securing
of the motor to the rocket, shares comments on launches, and offers encouragement and support.
Although David’s family is supportive of his model rocketry practice, parental support can
only go as far as the family’s overall conditions allow. In this regard, the family’s socioeconomic
status has placed limits on David’s practice budget. In our very first encounter, his reference to
ways of saving on materials foreshadowed the importance of the issue (LocalNAR, 6/25/00): “I
also found out some good techniques, I mean as in good supplies and stuff. Like a cheap way to
get wadding.” Likewise, David’s embrace of train modeling toward the end of the ethnographic
period provided a reminder of the pervasive and enduring character of this constraint. As it turns
out, train modeling is relatively more expensive than model rocketry. David was fully aware of
the issue and often commented on the high cost of some of his peers’ projects (FN, 10/26/2003).
Partly in response to these conditions, David is a creative, resourceful, and competent rocketeer.
In contrast to the competence and creativity he displays in rocketry fields, however, David has
been diagnosed as learning disabled. I first heard of David’s “disability” through Sandra and
Ervin, some 5 or 6 months into the study. Disability aside, David is a typical teenager. He is shy
and somewhat insecure, but also extremely friendly and agreeable. In particular, his ability and
effort to befriend adults stand in contrast to many youngsters of his age. In addition, in more
than 3 years of study I have never seen David enter into any squabbles with his parents. On the
contrary, David seems quite fond of hanging out with Ervin. Over the years, David has grown
more confident and independent. By 2003, he had finished high school and he planned to enroll
in a community college in the fall of 2005.
An Initial Inventory of David’s Activities
David’s day at either LocalNAR or DistantNAR is divided among some well-patterned activities.
Chatting with peers about all matters related to rocketry is standard—near rocketeers’ cars,
waiting in line for inspection, or in the rocket launch area. Because he is a long-time member
of both rocketry clubs, David has built solid relationships with some rocketeers, as well as
with organizational personnel, especially at LocalNAR. But by far the people with whom David
interacts the most are Ervin and Bill, a long-time model rocketeer and friend. Although Bill and
David met while practicing rocketry, their friendship has extended far beyond the hobby to include,
for example, martial arts practice and social functions. At both LocalNAR and DistantNAR, David
and Bill engage in joint activities, such as helping one another to prepare a rocket for flying (e.g.,
rolling parachutes or setting up a rocket in the launch pad). Between flights, David, Ervin, and
FIGURE 2 Some of David’s rockets. Top row, from left to right: David holds one of his Shuttlecock rockets (LocalNAR,
10/26/03); At LocalNAR (9/10/2000), David stands next to the Launch Control Operator, ready to fly his off-the-shelf,
“helicopter retrieval” rocket (on the launch pad); David sets up the LOC IV on the launch pad at DistantNAR (11/17/02).
Second row, from left to right: David and Bill set up the Spear at LocalNAR (3/25/01); David holds a just-inherited,
2-stage rocket (DistantNAR, 9/15/02); A Mosquito and a Shuttlecock rocket appear inside David’s toolbox (DistantNAR,
7/22/00) while David holds a motor. Bottom row, from left to right: En route to the launch pad, David holds his Lunar
Lander, kit-ready model (LocalNAR, 6/25/00); David’s side and top view sketches of a planned Styrofoam ball rocket
(LocalNAR, 11/24/02); David holds his Ugly Boy after a successful flight (LocalNAR, 4/22/01).
Bill often relax for long periods in their social area. In these moments, their conversations flow
seamlessly between rocketry related topics and topics of deep significance in their lives (e.g.,
films, family life, and current affairs, among others). Indeed, throughout the ethnographic period,
conversations between the three often focused on themes completely extraneous to rocketry.
Flying Rockets. David dedicates a good portion of his time in the fields to flying his rockets.
Over the years, David has accumulated an assortment of models, some of which appear in Figure 2.
For instance, just prior to my meeting him, David had a Bottle rocket—that is, a model made from
a soda bottle fitted with fins and a case to hold a low power motor. He flew the rocket exclusively
at LocalNAR, but eventually it was lost to a nearby roof and David has not built a similar one.
In line with the idea of turning daily objects into rockets, David had made a Paper Cup
rocket (also lost after a number of successful launches) and developed a number of Shuttlecock
rockets. At the end of 2003, David had two fully operational Shuttlecock rockets, each built
with a different type of glue. He had plans for adding other members to the Shuttlecock family,
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including a double stage one. He also planned to scratch-build a Styrofoam-ball rocket, which he
explained was patterned after a well-known, off-the-shelf model called Spudnik.
David also flies a number of off-the-shelf rockets. In this category are included: (1) two
Mosquitoes—small, lightweight, plastic-molded, low-powered, cheap models that disappear from
sight upon launching; (2) a Lunar Lander—a saucer-like, also plastic-molded and low-powered
rocket; (3) a kit-ready model that deploys a helicopter-like retrieval system and is very popular
among newcomers; (4) the Mean Machine—a high-powered model, which David has made taller
by cutting its body tube and attaching to it another body tube; (5) a low- to medium-powered Ugly
Boy; (6) the Spear—a kit-ready model, which David has also made taller; and (7) a high-power
LOC IV kit-rocket that he flies only at DistantNAR. All models take a range of differentially
powered motors, and David enjoys flying his rockets in different motor configurations.
David may bring a number of rockets to the field but fly only a few of them. For instance, at the
beginning of the study David consistently brought his “enhanced” Mean Machine to LocalNAR,
although he never flew the model in the perilous conditions of that site. The design enhancements
he has carried out make it a distinctive rocket, and that is a source of pride for David. His remark
on 6/25/00 (LocalNAR) illustrates this pride: “I’m building all kinds of stuff now that not even
my dad or anyone else can build . . . uh: Shuttlecocks, Bottle rockets, and I got a nice 8-feet
rocket (the Mean Machine) in there (points to his father’s car).”
Occasional Activities in the Field. Although David has no formal role in the organizational
structure of LocalNAR or DistantNAR, occasionally he helps LocalNAR personnel in their
housekeeping duties. For instance, following a request from a rocket inspector, on 4/22/01 David
spent some time sorting that day’s flight cards (i.e., forms containing rocket specifications, which
rocketeers must submit to inspectors prior to flight). I have also seen David help collect isolation
cords, which are used to demarcate launch areas. Participating in community activities provides
additional occasions for David to reaffirm bonds with senior members or to befriend other
practitioners who get involved in similar tasks.
Out of the Fields. David’s model rocketry practice extends beyond club boundaries and
into his home, hobby stores, and so on. David’s rocket design and construction work is done at
home and individually. Although he occasionally collaborates with peers (sometimes due to his
lacking the appropriate tools for a job), collaboration is a nearly muted theme in his practice.
Additionally, David has hobbies other than rocketry that have some similarities but are less
intense. For instance, he had a hovercraft model that he built from a kit, and he reported playing
with the model every so often. Furthermore, toward the very end of the study David had taken up
train modeling and he was extremely excited about it.
A FIRST ANALYTICAL PASS THROUGH THE DATA
Knowing more about David’s practice within and beyond the boundaries of two rocketry commu-
nities, we can now return to the grounded theoretical process sketched previously. The process
is actually nonlinear, and my description of it is significantly simplified. I begin with a roughly
chronological account of the generation and refinement of analytical codes in the data, and then
jump through major analytical decisions leading up to my theory of persistent engagement.

Throughout the remainder of the paper, I add details to this initial formulation, thus further
rationalizing my analytical choices and the resulting theory.
Previously, I showed how the initial analysis of David’s data gave rise to themes such as
construction, rockets, glue, sandpaper, and techniques. As is commonly the case with grounded
theoretical studies, my initial coding of data generated many other themes (e.g., Harry et al.,
2005), including: supplies, wadding, toolbox, motors, experiential aspects (“It’s very fun” and
“It was very cool,” as David would say), problem solving, “showing off ,” parachutes, igniters,
inspection desk (with the process of rocket inspection generating many other categories), launch
desk (and associated processes), norms of practice (as seen, e.g., in rocket inspections and ritual
countdowns in launches), and a host of others.

Upon further data collection and analysis, glue and sandpaper were clumped into the category
materials, techniques was eventually subsumed under construction, and rockets evolved into
rocket types, a category that contained low- and high-powered rockets. These subcategories of
rocket types reflected the fact that David adhered to a strict set of flights at LocalNAR and
DistantNAR—at the former he only flew low-powered models (e.g., Mosquitoes, Lunar Lander,
Shuttlecock, and Bottle rocket), whereas at the latter he never flew these rockets, preferring
instead to launch his high-powered models (e.g., the Mean Machine and the LOC IV). I also
added a sites of practice category, which interacted with rocket types in ways that required further
investigation.
As I continued to document David’s activities, additional dimensions of his practice became
apparent, although at first these had questionable status as analytical categories. To exemplify,
design was at least of some concern to David. As he put it during our first conversation (LocalNAR,
6/25/2000): “Well, I really enjoy making and shooting them. I like making my own design of
things. I get an idea of like a soda . . . or something like that or even a paper plate, anything in the
house I figure I can make a rocket of . . . ‘cause I tried I made a rocket of this ((a paper cup)). It’s
a paper plate, I mean a paper cup.” David’s Bottle and Paper Cup rockets were obvious instances
of design work. Yet, in the first three or so sessions at LocalNAR (6/25/00, 7/9/00, 9/10/00)
David almost never flew any of his own designs; instead, he focused on flying his off-the-shelf,
low-powered models, such as the Lunar Lander, Mosquitoes, and helicopter-retrieval rocket.
Furthermore, in comparison to George and others, David did not seem to care as much for
design. In my first few visits to LocalNAR and DistantNAR, I was impressed with the number and
variety of scratch-built, “original” rockets that I saw in the fields. David, however, had relatively
less to show in this regard. His comment on our first DistantNAR encounter (i.e., the third in
the history of data collection) seemed to reinforce my inferences up to that point (DistantNAR,
7/22/2000): “Some I built from scratch, but not a lot of them.”
Meanwhile, construction was a theme unambiguously present in his practice, as prominently
seen in his assembling his models, scratch-built or kit-ready (see Figure 2). In addition, David
appeared to enjoy a number of menial, but common construction-related activities, such as fixing
chipped fins and parachutes, machining parts for best fit and gluing them to perfection, adapting
motors to his rockets, and tending to his tools and toolbox. In analytical terms, then, materials
and techniques were subsumed under the category construction work.
However, with time, visits to DistantNAR helped illuminate more textured aspects of David’s
design work—features that he himself did not initially articulate as design per se. Specifically,
David’s systematic rocket design enhancements—such as extending the Mean Machine and the
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Spear to make them “cool and taller,” in his own words—consumed much of his practice time and
therefore were clearly central to how he experienced the practice. Furthermore, as I listened to
David’s stories, design-related activities seemed to extend beyond model rocketry—for example,
in his work with a model hovercraft and model cars. If design had such a sweeping presence
in David’s life, then it probably had a bearing on his rocketry hobby. Design, then, became
a key theme describing David’s orientation to model rocketry. It suggested that rocketry was
one among many interrelated practices that David organically engaged across realms of his life.
Thus, patterns in David’s model rocketry participation and persistence could not be understood
separately from the organic way that the practice extended into and depended on other practices
in his life.
In addition to design, the social dimension of David’s hobby was obviously critical to him.
David invested considerable time in the field cultivating intimate relationships with his father
and Bill, but also with fellow rocketeers whom he had known for years. Indeed, as we have seen,
David occasionally visited LocalNAR but flew no rockets, preferring instead to “hang out” with
his peers.
In sum, as I “counted” David’s many extended activities within and beyond the fields of model
rocketry, I realized that these were motivated by a variety of long-term goals, values, and beliefs.
I began calling these elements preferences. David has preferences for design, construction work,
and socializing, among others. These preferences recur in his practice over the long haul and
thus represent the deep ways through which he engages model rocketry. David’s persistence in
practice, therefore, did not reside centrally in a topic- or domain-centered relationship to model
rocketry, but rather in his ability to differentially engage diverse preferences across practice time.
Parallel analysis of Bill’s and George’s activities revealed a similar structure to their long-term
pursuit of the hobby. Like David, George dedicated much of his practice time to doing design and
construction work. Stemming from his computer engineering background, however, George had a
preference for incorporating electrical machinery into his rockets. In this regard, he experimented
with video rocketry—that is, installing a camera as rocket payload, to transmit images to a ground
receiver—and he had a fleet of rockets fitted with battery-powered LEDs (and other devices) to
fly in the dark of the night.
The point to observe is that while people’s hobby practices are different, they show a common
long-term, multi-dimensional motivational structure. No single preference seems to explain a
hobbyist’s extended pursuit of rocketry; rather, persistence in practice results from a complex
interaction among many such preferences and their relative satisfaction over time.
Furthermore, any preference in a hobbyist’s repertoire may manifest itself differently across
sites of practice—a candidate analytical category previously put on hold. For instance, David’s
work with low-powered models made of recyclable materials (e.g., Shuttlecocks) and his ex-
tended, high-powered rocket design improvements (e.g., the Mean Machine and Spear) reflect
qualitatively different instantiations of a design preference. The same is true of George and Bill’s
preferences.
To explain this fact, I hypothesized that, over time, preferences interact in systematic ways
with the constraints and affordances (e.g., Greeno and the Middle School Mathematics Through
Applications Project Group, 1998; Norman, 1993) that impinge on the person’s hobby. At that
point, I had unpacked sites of practice into more fine-grained categories describing the sites’
physical and geographical features, the norms and values of the local community, and so on.
The intent was more easily to inspect long-term context sensitivities in hobbyists’ preferences.
For example, David’s original low-powered designs (i.e., Shuttlecocks, Bottle, and Paper Cup
rockets) were a reaction to some key physical aspects of the LocalNAR site, such as trees and
rooftops known to trap. Having lost some rockets, then, David settled on a design and construction
strategy that reduced eventual losses while preserving the fun of building distinctive rockets.
At the same time, those same low-powered designs were also a response to David’s budgetary
constraints. To refer to a set of constraints and affordances of practice beyond those associated with
sites of practice, therefore, I coined the conceptual category conditions of practice. Conditions
of practice subsumes the constraints and affordances of different sites of practice and includes
such things as the material infrastructure available to the practitioner (e.g., rocket kits of varied
assembly complexity), the immediate circumstances of the hobbyist’s life (e.g., the person’s
socioeconomic status and whether or not he/she has easy access to practice sites), the larger
social, cultural and institutional spaces in which the hobby exists (e.g., the availability of hobby
stores), and so forth.
Finally, preferences and conditions of practice not only interact, but they also cluster in
ways that define long-term patterns in a hobbyist’s pursuit of the practice. David’s work with
Shuttlecocks, Bottle and Paper Cup rockets, for example, defined a unique set of activities, which
were themselves motivated by his preferences for design, construction work, low-powered rockets
aesthetics, and his efforts to advance an identity of competence and creativity. These preferences,
in turn, were attuned in specific ways to such conditions of practice as his low practice budget,
low-flight ceiling of LocalNAR, trees and buildings that trap rockets, asphalted landing ground
that chips wood and hard plastic, and so on.
Each unique cluster of preferences and conditions of practice I termed a line of practice.
David’s cheap and wacky rockets line of practice—expressed and materially embodied in his
activities in and around Shuttlecocks, Paper Cup, and Bottle rockets—is one line that he nurtures
in his repertoire. Another of David’s lines is tall and mighty rockets, which refers to his design
transformations to implement rockets that stand out for their mighty appearance (i.e., the Mean
Machine, Spear, and a two-stage rocket he inherited and planned to make into a three-stage
model) and performance (as seen in his adapting the models to fly more powerful motors than
originally intended). In this regard, tall and mighty rockets represent the “clumping” of his
preferences for design, construction work, high-powered rockets aesthetics, and his need to craft
an identity of competence and creativity. Conditions of practice to which these preferences are
most prominently attuned include the high-flight ceiling of DistantNAR, the favorable geography
of that site, and DistantNAR community’s active encouragement of high-powered flights.
Synthesizing: Lines of Practice and the Study of Persistence
Lines of practice are so called because they capture long-term continuities in the person’s pursuit
of an open-ended practice, such as a hobby. These continuities span a number of dimensions,
including psychological, physical, material, cultural, communal, and institutional. In lines of
practice theory, elements in a person’s psychology are called preferences, whereas elements in
all other dimensions are named conditions of practice. The clustering and attunements between
preferences and conditions of practice define the long-term formations of lines of practice—that
is, the deep patterns of engagement in the person’s long-term relationship to the hobby. Put
simply, lines of practice represent that which really matters for the person in his/her extended
engagement with the hobby.
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FIGURE 3 A schema showing two lines of practice in a practitioner’s repertoire within the larger practice of a hobby
(the enclosing arrow).
In general, at any given point in time an individual pursues multiple parallel lines of practice.
Figure 3 schematizes this idea. In the figure, lines of practice 1 and 2 are portrayed as arrows
because they always change and evolve. The larger, enclosing arrow represents the equally
evolving conditions of practice in which a person’s hobby exists. Intersections between lines of
practice may be interpreted according to the “space” the figure is seen to represent. For instance,
because lines of practice reflect elements of a person’s psychology, intersections between lines
represent preferences common to both lines. Thus, David’s preference for construction work is
differentially instantiated across his cheap and wacky rockets and tall and mighty rockets lines,
as well as others.
Likewise, if the figure is drawn in “knowledge space,” then intersections show knowledge
and learning that cross line boundaries. For example, David’s knowledge of gluing techniques
bears across both his design-related and kit-ready lines of practice. In the next section, I explain
how the specialized knowledge that a hobbyist develops in the practice can be linked to his/her
preferences.
Within this scheme, persistent engagement can be understood in terms of the overall dynamics
of change in a hobbyist’s lines of practice. For instance, the birth of one or more lines of practice
in a person’s hobby routines signals his/her emerging preferences in the practice, and the death of
some of his/her lines of practice points to decaying ways of practice participation. More generally,
changes in the ways in which one engages his/her lines of practice point to shifting preferences,
in their dynamic interaction with conditions of practice. It is by tracking these changes that we
come to understand how persistent engagement is achieved both in a moment-by-moment and
long-term fashion.
Knowing, Learning, and Lines of Practice
Members of a community of practice develop both extensive and intensive knowledge of the
practice (e.g., Gee, 2003). Extensive knowledge regards knowledge of the practice as a whole,
including its organization and the roles played by different participants, as well as content
knowledge within its immediate purview. Intensive knowledge, on the other hand, refers to
specialized knowledge regarding aspects of the practice with which the person is most often
involved.
Lines of practice refer most prominently to intensive knowledge. That is, because a hobbyist’s
lines reflect his/her preferences in the practice, the person is likely to develop detailed and
idiosyncratic knowledge in association with the specifics of each of his/her lines. Consider Bill’s
practice as an example. Bill never engages in rocket design activities. As he readily stated in
our first encounter (LocalNAR, 6/15/2000): “I don’t do any design of my own.” Instead, Bill
focuses exclusively on building off-the-shelf, high-powered models. Moreover, because he has
been cash-strapped for some time, Bill has only two operating high-powered models.
Interestingly, Bill has a knack for the history of aviation and rocketry. As such, he frequently
volunteers stories about how models (his own and others’) resemble real commercial, military or
experimental rockets. While doing so, Bill invariably gets into technical or historical details of
such real rockets. The following exchange, which followed Bill’s description of the high-powered
Mirage model he was putting together at the time, illustrates this point (LocalNAR, 12/10/2000).
1 Bill: I also really digged it when uh the sp . . . the shuttle astronauts went up uh the first
time in 81[
2 Flávio: [right
3 Bill: Uh the space shuttle . . . always love it when they show the shuttle launch off of Cape
Canaveral on TV and later the shuttle can . . . comes flying back in[
4 Flávio: [That’s that’s the part I like the best
5 Bill: Yeah, when it comes in?
6 Flávio: Yeah, it seems it seems like it’s rea::lly slow, right?
7 Bill: Well, it seems like[
8 Flávio: [How come something that big uh uh::: just sort of floats in the air?
9 Bill: I don’t know. I’m . . . it’s actually basically coming down as a glider.
10 Flávio: Yeah, how can it glide so: ((inaudible, 2s)) huge stuff?
11 Bill: Yeah, this . . . the thing is like 125 feet long. It’s . . . I think it’s it’s definitely taller,
it’s taller than a 747.
12 Flávio: Oh yeah?
13 Bill: Yeah, it’s . . . it’s a HUGE thing and it’s the fastest fixed wing vehicle . . . vehicle
and it goes . . . In outer space, it’s going about seventeen thousand five hundred
miles per hour . . . even faster than that. I think it . . . I think it does about Mach
. . . something like Mach 3. When it, when it comes in. It it slows down eventually
to about to about uh: maybe about Mach 2. I’m not I’m not sure exactly how fast
it’s coming when it lands . . . at least uh: four hun . . . at least three hundred and
forty maybe three hundred and fifty miles per hour when uh: the fastest airplane
((inaudible)) maybe it’s not an airplane but . . . in terms of a fixed wing aircraft it
holds the world record.
14 Flávio: It’s amazing.
15 Bill: It is. It . . . and of course because it’s coming down so fast it needs the longest runway
available[
16 Flávio: [uh huh
17 Bill: You would . . . they could never land it on a commercial airport. There’s . . . they just
don’t have an airport they’re gonna ((inaudible)) so you fl . . . so it lands at Edwards
Air Force base or a special launch pad at Cape Canaveral uh: a special landing strip.
I even have a book uh: the dream is alive about uh: about that uh: Imax film I got to
see uh over at Paramount Great America in 86 and that that’s a spectacular movie.
Starting on turn 1, Bill had already steered the conversation into the realm of real rockets. And,
when allowed relatively uninterrupted time for talking (starting on turn 11), Bill proceeds to
add more or less accurate information to the story he initiated. Details regarding comparisons
166 AZEVEDO
across fixed-wing aircrafts and their relative sizes, flying speed of aircrafts, and runway length all
qualify in this category. Note, also, that on turn 17 a preference for real rocketry appears to have
great significance to other aspects of his life. As it turns out, Bill is a film aficionado, so enjoying
rocketry by going to movies is a natural extension of his preferences.
In sum, this excerpt illustrates the personal relevance of the knowledge that a hobbyist de-
velops in relation to his/her lines of practice. It also shows the idiosyncratic character of such
knowledge—throughout the ethnographic period, no two rocketeers showed the same pattern
of knowledge in and about the hobby. From the perspective of developing the theory of lines
of practice, making the link between preferences and knowledge/learning helped explain the
idiosyncratic nature of people’s lines of practice, as well as the mechanisms whereby these
idiosyncrasies come to exist.
A Basic Typology of Preferences and Conditions of Practice
As I attempted to pin down how a hobbyist’s preferences “selected” for specific conditions of
practice, it became clear that some of these structural elements were more influential than others.
This suggested that both preferences and conditions of practice could be classified along functional
types. To begin, global preferences and conditions of practice are those that are manifest across
diverse aspects of a hobbyist’s overall practice, and therefore, across several of his/her lines of
practice. David’s preference for doing design work and his limited practice budget exemplify this
point.
Local preferences and conditions of practice, on the other hand, are specific to the immediate
context of one or few lines of practice. For instance, David’s preference for low-powered rockets
is tied to a specific site of practice (LocalNAR) and thus to the two lines of practice associated
with such a site. Similarly, a specific physical feature of that site (i.e., trees and roofs that trap
high-flying rockets) strongly, but locally, impinges on David’s lines of practice.
Preferences and conditions of practice can be further categorized according to their relative
weight in defining a line. Primary preferences or conditions of practice are those that give the
line its distinctive flavor—that is, they deeply define a line of practice. For example, two primary
preferences defining David’s cheap and wacky line are his efforts to develop an identity of
competence and his love of design work. In interaction with David’s global budgetary constraints,
these are the preferences that lend the line its unique “being competent and having fun designing
wacky rockets within budget constraints” stance.
Within David’s cheap and wacky line, we may find additional preferences attaching oppor-
tunistically and sporadically to individual projects. Thus, for example, a Bottle rocket may be
further motivated by a concern with recycling materials, whereas a Shuttlecock rocket probably
has no such motivation. Within the context of a single line of practice, preferences that flavor the
dominant character of the line are called secondary. Functionally, secondary preferences fine-tune
one’s activities within the larger patterns of practice participation expressed in lines of practice.
ANOTHER PASS AT THE DATA:

SATURATING CONCEPTUAL CATEGORIES
As preferences and conditions of practice emerged as stable analytical themes, my job turned
to providing detailed descriptions and copious examples of these conceptual categories across
rocketeers’ practices. This process of theoretical sampling—that is, sampling meant to check and
refine analytical constructs—would further saturate existing conceptual categories and corrobo-
rate (or not!) their fit as adequately descriptive of the data (Charmaz, 2001; Corbin & Strauss,
1990; Strauss & Corbin, 1994). As I combed through large amounts of data, however, I came
to further understand variations within these categories and refined my understanding of how
preferences and conditions of practice interact. Specifically, sampling rocketeers’ preferences
and hypothesizing about their lines of practice led to considerations on how to optimize and
formalize the identification of these elements in the raw data. I turn to this topic now and then I
consider David’s preferences and lines of practice.
Principles for Identifying Preferences and Conditions of Practice
Certain contexts in the data—that is, specific passages in a rocketeer’s comments, narrative
reconstructions of practice, and field activities—are relatively more promising than others in
pointing to preferences and conditions of practice. This observation raises some obvious questions:
How might we best identify preferences and conditions of practice in a person’s hobby? How
can one best attain precision in inferences regarding a person’s preferences and the conditions of
practice to which these are attuned? In addressing these questions, I compiled thirteen heuristic
principles for identifying these elements in any hobbyists’ practice. Each principle may serve
both in initially identifying preferences/conditions of practice and in iteratively refining them. No
single principle stands on its own, but when used together and across multiple iterations of data
analyses, principles help align inferences about hobbyists’ patterns of practice participation and
increase the likelihood that the descriptions that follow adequately cover the data.
Note that the principles are grounded in the data and reflect my analytical judgments during the
process of research. At the same time, and departing from grounded theoretical methodology, I
sometimes referred to the specialized literature to help focus the analysis of preferences/conditions
of practice from the perspective of interest-based phenomena (e.g., the clustering of persistent
engagement around certain material forms, such as David’s low-powered, original designs of
Shuttlecock rockets). In addition, some of the principles stem from well-known, general heuristic
strategies, including searching for negative cases (Becker, 1998, p. 87; Harry et al., 2005),
accounting for variation within categories, and filling in poorly developed categories (Charmaz,
2001; Harry et al., 2005). As I describe each principle below, I provide short data excerpts from
various rocketeers’ practices to further rationalize these analytical decisions.
(P1) Principle of the continuity of (hobby) practice contexts. If a theme appears across several
distinct contexts in a person’s hobby, it is likely a global preference or condition of practice
in the hobbyist’s practice. For instance, George designs and builds rockets of low-, medium-
and high-power nature and flies them in different sites and under very different conditions (e.g.,
day and night launches). Thus, design is a strong candidate for a global preference in George’s
rocketry practice.
As for conditions of practice, one’s socioeconomic status is a constraint that likely cuts across
his/her practice, and therefore it is a global condition of practice in the person’s hobby. David’s
budgetary constraints are a case in point, as they impinge in various ways across his full repertoire
of rocketry lines of practice. Empirically, global preferences and conditions of practice are almost
guaranteed to function as primary in one or more lines in a person’s repertoire.
168 AZEVEDO
(P2) Principle of spanning practices. If a preference theme appears in a person’s hobby as well
as across several realms of his/her life (say, work and home affairs), then the preference is likely
influential in the person’s rocketry practice. For instance, if a preference for construction work
is expressed in one’s model rocketry but also in everyday affairs (such as home repair), other
hobbies and/or professional practice, then construction work is likely a global preference in the
context of rocketry. This is the case of David and George, both of whom had a habit of fixing
things around their residences.
(P3) Principle of material/conceptual cluster. Following the observation that interest rela-
tionships “cluster” around repeated engagements with specific reference/interest objects (Krapp,
2003), activities in a hobbyist’s practice show prominent common material attributes and these
may be expressions of one or more orienting preferences and conditions of practice. In David’s
case, designing and building cheap, low-powered models made from reusable materials (i.e.,
shuttlecocks, paper cups, and bottles) reflect his preferences for design, construction work, and
aesthetic appreciation of low-power rocketry. Checking these preference candidates in light of
P1 helps define whether each preference theme is local to a single line of practice or global to the
hobby practice.
Care must be taken in applying this judgment, however, because readily available, shared
dimensions of activities may hide more fundamental patterns of behavior. For instance, a rocke-
teer’s continuous pursuit of multi-stage rockets may not be centrally concerned with multi-stage
rocketry per se, but rather with specific building techniques that the rocketeer cherishes and that
are afforded by multi-stage rocketry. To probe data for enduring preferences and conditions of
practice, therefore, we must attend to more essential patterns of participation that are visible only
in the long haul.
(P4) Principle of historical continuity. Themes centrally appearing in a person’s past practice
and continuing in current activities are strong candidates for preferences and conditions of
practice. Discontinuities between previous and current practice can be used to raise hypotheses
about changing or emerging preferences or conditions of practice. As an example, in our very first
conversation, Bill could not recall a model that he had built from scratch in the recent past. This
trend continued throughout the study period and strengthens the inference that kit-ready models
are one of his preferences.
(P5) Principle of counter theme. The obvious complement to looking into activity continuities is
to inquire into what the person could be doing in immediate relation to a hypothesized preference,
yet does not do. Again, suppose a rocketeer specializes in two-stage rockets, never showing any
desire to build and fly three-stage models. In this case, probing what the person finds unattractive
about three-stage rockets might inform the preferences/conditions of practice underlying his/her
engagement with two-stage models.
(P6) Principle of reportability. Informed by the notion of “the most reportable event” in
narrative analysis (Labov, 1997), a person’s reconstructions of his/her hobby (e.g., the history of
a particular project or his/her description of joining a club) tend to focus on aspects of experience
that the person judges worthy of mention. Themes that appear prominently across a hobbyist’s
many “stories” thus point to preferences and conditions of practice. To illustrate, time and again,
David’s comments and elaborations on his original designs emphasized his abilities as a competent
and creative rocketeer, as in the following passage (LocalNAR, 10/26/03): “And a lot of people
have built Birdies ((Shuttlecocks)) too, because they got the idea from me.” Over time, these
narratives were used to build a profile of the kind of identity David actively strived to achieve.
(P7) Principle of envisioned future. In line with the idea that practice participation is in
part forward-looking (Lave & Wenger, 1991; Wenger, 1998), rocketeers often mention activi-
ties they wish to pursue in the future, including joining new hobby communities, buying tools,
achieving particular material goals (e.g., building a new rocket), and so on. These future ac-
tivities reflect themes of current practice that are deeply meaningful to the person and that
the hobbyist intends to keep pursuing. For example, David’s plans to continue designing and
building Shuttlecocks, including multi-stage ones, point to one or more continued themes in his
practice.
Conversely, discontinuities between envisioned projects and current practice point to pref-
erences/conditions of practice, both emergent and long-standing. George, for instance, began
constructing video rockets but found the resulting quality of the recordings disappointing. As
he explained (DistantNAR, 9/22/02), the problem could only be solved with more expensive
cameras, which were beyond his means. This helped illuminate, for example, the way economic
constraints were a primary condition of practice in the context of his video rockets line, but were
virtually absent from his other lines of practice.
(P8) Principle of intentionally contrastive stance. A hobbyist’s explicit contrast between his/her
practice and that of other people is likely to emphasize aspects of practice judged to be of special
importance. Such contrasts often point to preferences and/or conditions of practice. For instance,
throughout the research period, David often commented on the distinctiveness of his designs
by contrasting them to others’ and highlighted how his models improved on existing ones.
The following passage, which took place immediately following the Launch Control Operator’s
announcement of the launching of someone’s Mean Machine (LocalNAR, 11/24/02), illustrates
this point.
39:53 David: I have that rocket, except mine is bigger now and now it flies on an E ((i.e., a motor
more powerful than the one used in the original kit)).
Flávio: Yeah, I remember that.
David: Mine goes VOOM:: ((left thumb up, swings left arm up fast))((laughs))
By systematically highlighting how his practice improves on those of others’, David indirectly
alludes to points of pride in his hobby.
(P9) Principle of invariance. A previously identified preference theme is likely to appear, in
some form, in all implicated contexts (diSessa, 1993, pp. 124), unless a plausible reason exists to
rule out such an option. Take Bill’s practice as an example. Bill has a preference for off-the-shelf,
construction-intensive, high-powered rockets, in particular those that have counterparts in real
rockets. Following the principle of invariance, new investments that he makes in the hobby are
likely to be spent on similar kinds of rockets. Indeed, on 12/10/00 (LocalNAR), Bill showed me
a high-powered Mirage rocket he had just acquired. He commented that it took him three days of
intensive work to put the rocket together and went on to volunteer facts about real life rockets as
they related to technical details of his Mirage.
(P10) Principle of corroborating informants. Data provided by people other than a focal subject
may help shed light on the subject’s orientation towards his/her practice. For instance, a parent
or friend’s intimate knowledge of a hobbyist’s practice is often useful in uncovering his/her
major orientations toward the practice, as well as the conditions that impinge on practice. As we
170 AZEVEDO
have seen, Ervin, Bill, and David are natural corroborating informants on each other’s hobby.
LocalNAR and DistantNAR personnel, especially oldtimers, are often corroborating informants
on technical aspects of members’ practices.
(P11) Principle of depth of knowledge. Generally, knowledge that is strongly linked to pref-
erences is deep and elaborate. Given the open-ended and leisurely nature of hobbies, the depth
of this knowledge is not necessarily related to the scientific underpinnings of the hobby; instead,
knowledge tied to a hobbyist’s preferences is most likely to appear in technical and practical
details that the person weaves when describing personal projects.
(P12) Principle of specialized knowledge. Reflecting the highly personal significance of lines
of practice, individual hobbyists are differentially knowledgeable. For instance, David is very
knowledgeable about different types of glues, a specialization connected to his preference for
rocket construction. In contrast, George prefers electronic gadgets (stemming mainly from his
professional work with computers and his engineering background), and therefore toys with
attaching electronics to rockets. Specialized knowledge, then, is an important clue to people’s
preferences.
(P13) Principle of spanning knowledge. A hobbyist’s knowledge of aspects of practice that
extend beyond the immediate hobby may point to his/her preferences. To exemplify, consider
a rocketeer who is knowledgeable about tool use. Consider, further, that the person applies this
knowledge across many other practices in his/her life (e.g., tool-centered problem solving at work
and in home repair). In this scenario, tool use is a candidate preference in the person’s repertoire.
This is the epistemic equivalent of the principle of spanning practices.
David’s Preferences
In this section, I briefly describe David’s multiple preferences and their bearing on his model
rocketry practice—in order: his passion for design, a preference for doing construction work, his
efforts to advance an identity of creativity and competence, some aesthetics specific to rocketry
practice, and a socializing preference.
Design. Design is the most extensively illustrated preference in David’s repertoire. It is

most readily seen in the two main classes of rockets that David conceives and builds—his
modified designs intended to produce mighty-looking models (embodied in his Mean Machine
and Spear) and his whimsical, low-powered, cheap models, such as the Paper Cup, Shuttlecock,
and Bottle rockets (principle of material/conceptual clusters; principle of continuity of practice
contexts)—and the significant time he spends in these activities. The design theme has dominated
David’s practice for the last ten years (principle of historical continuity) and David anticipates
continuing to pursue design in the future (principle of envisioned futures). Design appears across
several realms of David’s life (principle of spanning practices), pointing to the overall importance
of design activities for his developing self. For example, his recent embrace of train modeling was
partly motivated by the delicate designs that he observed in the field (again, principle of spanning
practices), as well as a goal to produce such designs in the future (principle of envisioned future;
principle of invariance).
Construction Work. David is extremely fond of many material aspects of model rocketry, in
particular those related to the processes of building rockets from scratch and assembling kit-based
models, as well as the constant (if minor) fixing of damaged models (principle of continuity of
practice contexts). This is most readily seen in the time he dedicates to engineering his full fleet of
rockets, from the menial work of cleaning rockets and fixing parachutes (principle of continuity
of practice contexts), to sanding parts for best fit, carrying out sturdy gluing jobs (say, of fins),
precision-fitting parts for correct flights, and so on (principle of continuity of practice contexts;
principle of material/conceptual clusters). As an example, consider David’s remarks on his use
of different types of glue to build two Shuttlecock rockets (LocalNAR, 10/26/2003). Note his
curiosity to experiment with glue types, as well as the knowledge he has developed about them
(principles of depth of knowledge and specialized knowledge).
8:58 Flávio: So so tell me again the the thing about the different glue types that uh::[
David: [Well, this ((Shuttlecock 1)) was made with Epoxy
Flávio: Uh huh
David: And uh: the other one with hot glue and uh: the . . . Epoxy is actually a lot stronger
than hot glue, but since the hot glue can flex an:d it . . . it’s also really strong
against like plastic and stuff ((points to the Shuttlecock’s plastic body)) I thought
well maybe just let me try because it sets up just like that ((snaps fingers)).
Flávio: Oh really?
David: YEAH! And so I tried it and it worked just as well. It worked great.
The preference for construction work is also clearly embodied in David’s relationship to his tools
and toolbox (principle of material/conceptual clusters), and it extends into many other realms of
his life (e.g., helping fix things at home; principles of spanning practices and historical continuity).
Finally, both Bill and Earl have independently commented on his enjoyment of the tool-based
aspects of the hobby (principle of corroborating informants). Given its pervasiveness in David’s
practice, construction work is a global preference in his hobby.
Developing an Identity of Competence and Creativity. Model rocketry is clearly a

practice through which David builds an identity of competence and creativity for himself and
his immediate social world. This is most easily seen in two contexts. The first is pride in his
practice, as exemplified in his proud assertion after people cheered his launching of a Shuttlecock
(LocalNAR, 4/22/2001; principle of reportability): “Yeah, I created everything.” The second is his
systematic and explicit highlighting of his achievements (e.g., design enhancements) by setting
his practice apart from those of others (principle of intentionally contrastive stance), as illustrated
by the following exchange (LocalNAR, 11/24/02):
45:28 David: See that orange one ((rocket)) right there in the launch pad? The orange one on the
pad right there ((points to rocket on the launch pad))?
Flávio: Uh huh.
David: I have one of those ((referring to the Spear)) but I extended mine by 7 FEET!
Developing an identity of competence and creativity is a global preference in David’s model

rocketry practice. It appears across multiple of his lines of practice (principle of continuity of
172 AZEVEDO
practice contexts) and realms of life (principle of spanning practices). For instance, David’s
first comment about his joining a train modeling group revolved around the leading role he had
been given in orienting newcomers to the club (principle of reportability; principle of spanning
practices; principle of invariance).
Aesthetics. Aesthetics refers to a set of rocket- and rocketry-specific features that arouse
affective or contemplative responses from model rocketeers and that clearly underlie their pursuit
of the hobby. For instance, some hobbyists dedicate a good chunk of their time to embellishing
their models for the sheer beauty of the resulting product—say, by elaborately painting rockets.
Others find pleasure in making distinctively colored or shaped parachutes meant to add visual
appeal, and still others revel in the rumble of high-powered motors. David’s aesthetic preferences
in model rocketry run the gamut (principle of continuity of practice contexts) from appreciating
the fuel type burned by different motors, to marveling at aspects of the design of both his own
and others’ rockets, and admiring material aspects of models. This latter point is illustrated by
his short remark on his Lunar Lander (FN, 7/9/00): “It’s very light, it’s made of Styrofoam. Isn’t
that amazing?”
Aesthetic judgments also motivate things that David does not do in the practice (principle of
counter theme). Thus, although he was a long-time owner of an Ugly Boy, he flew it only once
throughout the ethnographic period. Asked why he did not fly the model more often, he answered
(LocalNAR, 4/22/01): “Well, it’s ugly.”
Aesthetic judgments are preferences global to David’s model rocketry. This is true by definition,
as aesthetics are domain-specific and therefore cut across all hobby-related activities with which
the rocketeer engages.
Socializing. The social dimension of David’s practice is very prominent, and it critically
frames how David engages his hobby. Model rocketry often appears as a key vehicle for main-
taining his friendship with Bill and others and for bonding with his family, most prominently his
father. This is not necessarily true of every rocketeer (principle of counter theme). For instance,
George is a relatively reserved person who rarely seeks social contact in the field (although he
certainly does not reject or avoid contacts). In fact, George spends little idle time in field practice,
preferring instead to fly as many rockets as possible.
Socializing is a global preference in David’s model rocketry practice, as it is observed across
most of his lines of practice (principle of continuity of practice contexts).
David’s Lines of Practice
The process of describing a hobbyist’s lines of practice consists in unpacking how long-term
patterns of practice participation can be explained in terms of the interactions between multiple
preferences and conditions of practice. In David’s case, five lines of practice make up his repertoire
in model rocketry—cheap and wacky rockets, tall and mighty rockets, high-powered rockets,
low-powered rockets, and a social line of practice. For each line of practice, I array its component
preferences and their interactions with conditions of practice.
Cheap and Wacky Rockets. David’s cheap and wacky rockets line of practice refers to
his systematically transforming everyday, cheap or free materials into model rockets, which
he then flies exclusively at LocalNAR. In this category, we find his Paper Cup, Bottle, and
Shuttlecock rockets, as well as plans for future additions (Shuttlecock multi-stage ones, and
perhaps a Styrofoam Ball rocket). Cheap and wacky rockets affords David the opportunity to get
involved with various aspects of rocket design and construction, as well as to engage his aesthetic
appreciation of low-powered models. Importantly, by creating rockets that stand out for their
distinct design, David is often recognized by his peers as a competent and creative rocketeer.
Component preferences (Primary): Design; construction work; advancing an identity of com-
petence and creativity; and an aesthetic appreciation of low-powered rockets. (Secondary): So-
cializing; ease of production, fixing, and replacement of rockets.
Component conditions of practice (Primary): Budgetary constraints; wide availability of cheap,
re-usable materials that can be transformed into rockets; low flight ceiling allowed by LocalNAR
(as dictated by town ordinance); nearby trees and roofs that trap rockets. (Secondary): LocalNAR’s
ground is asphalted, which is known to cause chipping or more substantive breakage in landing
rockets.
Tall and Mighty Rockets. Tall and mighty rockets refers to David’s long term penchant for
routinely transforming off-the-shelf rockets (low-, medium-, or high-powered) into models that
are mighty-looking (say, because of their height or the high-powered engines that they can take)
and/or performing. Materially, tall and mighty rockets is embodied in his Mean Machine, the
Spear, and a two-stage model that he planned to make into a three-stage one, as well as in the
process of deploying various tools to engineer such rockets. As with his cheap and wacky line,
David’s tall and mighty rockets is also a context for advancing an identity of competence and
creativity.
Component preferences (Primary): Design; construction work; advancing an identity of com-
petence and creativity; and an aesthetic appreciation of high-powered rockets. (Secondary): Motor
aesthetics; parachute aesthetics.
Component conditions of practice: (Primary): Wide availability of off-the-shelf models that
can be transformed into tall and mighty rockets; wide availability of spare parts (i.e., body tubes);
high flight ceiling allowed by DistantNAR (as dictated by town ordinance) and the favorable
geography of that site (i.e., an open field with few rocket traps, which also explains why tall and
mighty rockets are never flown at LocalNAR). (Secondary): Several other aspects of the physical
characteristics of DistantNAR site (e.g., landing surfaces are grass fields and sandy roads, which
are less prone to damaging rockets), as well as aspects of the community’s norms and practices
(e.g., equal encouragement of high- and low-powered rocketry).
High-Powered Rocketry. David has an obvious passion for high-powered rocketry, and his
high-powered LOC IV model offers him an extended context for engaging this passion. Design
174 AZEVEDO
has no bearing on this line, but construction work strongly defines the way he pursues it. Indeed,
maintaining the LOC IV and preparing it for flying takes much of his attention and practice time
at DistantNAR.
Component preferences (Primary): Construction work; socializing; aesthetics (i.e., the overall
“look-and-feel” of the LOC IV, including its bright orange and green painting); developing an
identity of competence (i.e., by “playing the game” that is often stereotypically associated with
more advanced practice). (Secondary): Other aesthetic aspects of high-powered rocketry (e.g.,
motors roar and burn fuel of distinct types, which David enjoys).
Component conditions of practice (Primary): Budgetary constraints (e.g., David would like to
buy more high-powered rockets, but their price is prohibitive); wide availability of off-the-shelf,
relatively affordable high-powered models; high flight ceiling allowed by, and encouraged at,
DistantNAR and the favorable site geography.
Low-Powered Rocketry. David has a number of low-powered, off-the-shelf models that he

has collected over the years (e.g., the Mosquitoes, the helicopter retrieval rocket, and the Saucer).
He still enjoys flying these models at LocalNAR, and doing so affords him (among other things)
many opportunities to hang out with his peers.
Component preferences (Primary): Socializing; aesthetics (e.g., Mosquitoes fly out of sight,
which he considers “cool”). (Secondary): Construction (i.e., minor aspects of fixing, engineering
and tool use—e.g., sanding parts for best fit—sometimes come to play into the line).
Component conditions of practice (Primary): Wide availability of off-the-shelf, low-powered
models; budgetary constraints (low-powered models are very cheap); low flight ceiling of Local-
NAR, the only site where he flies low-powered rockets. (Secondary): Models are easily fixed if
damaged.
Socializing. Socializing is both a preference in the make-up of some of David’s lines of

practice and a full-blown line of practice in its own right. The sheer amount of field time that
David dedicates to non-rocketry related conversations and activities clearly indicates that model
rocketry is often an excuse to engaging and developing other practices in his life repertoire.
EXTENDING THE THEORY:

VARIETIES OF CHANGE IN LINES OF PRACTICE
Thus far, my characterization of David’s lines of practice provides a static picture of how his
preferences are selectively attuned to conditions of practice. But a person’s patterns of practice
participation constantly change in various ways (Lave & Wenger, 1991). Here I describe three cat-
egories of changing practice engagement captured by lines of practice, in the process introducing
a vocabulary for describing dynamic phenomena in these structures.
Evolving Lines
Over the long haul, lines of practice naturally develop and shift foci. To illustrate, David’s cheap
and wacky rockets line was once populated with a number of rockets, including a Paper Cup
rocket, a Bottle rocket, and a few Shuttlecocks. Eventually, however, David lost both his Paper
Cup and Bottle rockets, and he has not attempted to build new instances of these. Yet, at the
end of 2003 he added two new Shuttlecocks to his fleet, each built with a particular type of
glue. Around the same time, he announced plans to build new Shuttlecock models, including a
two-stage variation on the theme. David’s cheap and wacky rockets, therefore, had seemingly
undergone some changes.
To probe the status of these apparent changes, every so often I asked him whether he intended
to build new Paper Cup rockets. David has always answered negatively, but has never really
justified his answer. In a different approach, I tried to instill a revival of parts of the line. To do
so, I presented David with simple but detailed plans for a Bottle rocket that I fetched from the
Web. David thanked me for the gesture, but showed no desire to pursue the project.
In sum, over a period of about three to four years, David’s cheap and wacky line of practice
slowly changed its material focus from an array of distinctive rocket forms to variations on a
basic rocket form. Because I could not detect any changes to the conditions of practice that
impinge on that line of practice (e.g., a lack of cheap/free materials), I speculate that the observed
changes may result from developments in the preference make-up of the line (e.g., the adding or
deleting of primary and secondary preferences in the line), or perhaps a weight shift in particular
preferences.
The Dynamics of Line Enactment
Observations of the short- to mid-range dynamics of David’s hobby participation reveal that his
enactment of various lines of practice periodically change. Thus, for a period some lines of practice
may occupy more of his time, whereas other lines may temporarily fall by the wayside, only to be
picked up at a later moment. For instance, David’s social line of practice has increasingly received
more of his attention. Toward the end of the study, David’s visits to LocalNAR and DistantNAR
were almost exclusively dedicated to social time, as he brought few or no rockets to fly. Social
moments became so prevalent in his DistantNAR practice that he stayed in the field with friends
after the day’s event was over (4/17/2004). As it turned out, some friends began practicing target
shooting within DistantNAR’s grounds and David was keen to join them. I say, therefore, that
David’s social line is currently dominant in relation to his other lines of practice. (In principle,
many lines might be simultaneously dominant.) As David’s social line has risen in prominence,
cheap and wacky rockets has become backgrounded—that is, David still engages in designing
and flying cheap and wacky rockets, but he does so much less frequently than he socializes.
Finally, halfway through the research, David’s low-powered rockets line of practice became
residual, so that David shot low-powered rockets only very sporadically. A residual line of
practice refers to things a hobbyist used to do and, therefore, has accumulated enough resources
(material, conceptual, and so on) to keep doing. Enacting it once in a while affords the hobbyist
an opportunity to relive previously valued activities or perhaps it simply provides opportunities
for continued social interactions.
Emergent and Dying Lines
Just as one’s existing lines of practice may change, new lines may emerge while others may dis-
appear. As an example of the latter, David’s current pursuit of high-powered rockets is concerned
exclusively with activities revolving around his LOC IV rocket. But because his high-powered
176 AZEVEDO
rockets and tall and mighty rockets lines share a similar preference make-up, I wondered whether
David might one day make the LOC IV into a tall and mighty rocket—say, by re-engineering its
motor case to take even more powerful motors. Through e-mail I queried him about the matter
and his answer was (11/28/2004): “Considering that my LOC IV was my first F–G powered
rocket, I didn’t make any modifications to it because I wouldn’t know what I would be doing. The
construction to a rocket of that size is really different. The motor mount is made out of wood, the
rocket tube is very thick, and the fins are tough stuff. Making a modification to a rocket like that
would be really tough, and more than I know how to do.”
In light of these comments, I say that David’s high-powered rockets line may be transitory. A
transitory line of practice is one that shares many preferences and conditions of practice with a
second line in the person’s repertoire that seems to have a stronger weight in the person’s overall
practice and may therefore subsume the transitory line. Thus, given the availability of resources
(e.g., David might need tools he does not currently have) and enough time and effort on his part,
his high-powered line may be subsumed by tall and mighty rockets.
Just as contingencies may align to result in the disappearance of some lines, they may also
work to give rise to potential lines of practice—that is, lines that an individual might want to
pursue, but conditions of practice do not support their realization. For instance, George once tried
his hand with video rocketry. Disappointed with the resulting image quality and unable to buy
better cameras, George put his video rocketry projects on hold, planning to return to them as soon
as cameras get cheaper. Video rocketry, therefore, is a potential line in his repertoire.
DISCUSSION
The theory of lines of practice is offered as an alternative to current theorizing on, and models
of, individual interests. By way of discussion, then, I consider how lines of practice begins to
improve on such theories. I focus on four themes central to theorizing persistent engagement, and
these variously touch on issues of theoretical adequacy such as data coverage, explanatory and
predictive powers, and modeling properties.
The Object and Organic Nature of Persistent Engagement
As formulated by extant theories, interest relationships are fundamentally defined by their content-
specific (topic- or domain-centered) nature. Indeed, the topic-centered character of interest rela-
tionships has been the starting point to all such theorizing, framing everything from data collection
methods to analysis. This has led to an imprecision in characterizing (1) the object of people’s
long-term, interest-based pursuits, and (2) the context-bound, organic nature of such pursuits, as
follows:
1. The object of people’s long-term, self-motivated, free-choice pursuits: As commonly
defined, the objects of a person’s interests refer to “concrete objects, a topic, subject matter,
an abstract idea, or any other content of the cognitively represented life-space” (Krapp,
2003, p. 61). From the perspective elaborated here, however, objects are further embedded
in a fabric of activities that span several practices. By shifting focus to persistence in
practice, rather than focusing on a narrowly defined object-centered relationship, I have

found that persistent engagement has a complex motivational structure—one that cannot
be reduced to any single topic- or domain-centered essence. Thus it is that model rocketry
is a context for David’s engagement with design and construction work, using tools
skillfully, strengthening friendships and developing an identity of competence, and so on.
It is because David successfully engages these preferences across practice time that he
can persist in model rocketry.
2. It is true that David has a preference for specific aspects of model rocketry—which
I called an aesthetic appreciation, and which was manifest, for instance, in his long-
term appreciation of high- and low-powered models over mid-range ones. Because these
preferences seem content-centered, it could be argued that they are interest-like. Whether
or not these are the same, however, my empirical work shows that David’s aesthetic
preference is one among many that differentially contribute to his long-term engagement
with model rocketry. Persistent engagement, then, is distributed across a number of
aspects of a person’s self-system, and any of its content-centered aspects is simply one
among many that differentially contribute to his/her long-term participation in a practice
of interest.
3. The contingent and organic character of interest relationships: Contrary to the assumption
that interest relationships are context-independent, I have found that persistent engage-
ment has a deeply organic nature—that is, persistence is found in the specific relationships
between multiple preferences and their attunements to conditions of practice, so that these
relationships fit together harmoniously as necessary parts of one’s practice. Additionally,
these preferences have extensions to other aspects of a person’s life space, which shows
that persistence in a practice is contingent on connections between such practice and a
person’s larger repertoire of practices. Breakages in parts of this system of interacting
preferences and conditions of practice lead to changes in a person’s practice participa-
tion, perhaps extinguishing some activities in his/her repertoire, perhaps adding others.
By capturing how persistence in practice is multiply determined, then, lines of practice
reveal that context dependency is an integral feature of interest relationships.
Capturing and Explaining Change and Development
In the tradition of cultural-historical frames of analysis (Engeström & Middleton, 1996; Lave &
Wenger, 1991; Leont’ev, 1989; Rogoff, 1997; Saxe, 1992), lines of practice provides a means
for tracking and explaining development in people’s long-term patterns of pursuits. For example,
although I have not been able to pinpoint precisely why David’s cheap and wacky line of practice
is changing, I have provided an initial vocabulary for describing and explaining a range of these
changes.
Furthermore, lines of practice theory provides a mechanism for mapping the context-bound
nature of a person’s changing practice. For instance, the subsuming of a transitory line of practice
by another line may be easily explained by (or modeled as) a change in the conditions of practice
that impinge on the line.
Existing theories of individual interests have addressed issues of change and development
in interest relationships from a variety of fruitful perspectives. Hidi and Renninger (2006), for
178 AZEVEDO
instance, propose four phases in the development of stable interests, from its situational beginnings
as fleeting attraction to a topic, through ways that this incipient attraction is sustained, and finally
to its long-term character as an individual interest. From a different angle, Krapp and associates
(Fink, 1991; Krapp, 2002, 2003) have explained interest development as structural changes in a
person’s representation of a P-O relationship. Lines of practice theory adds to these perspectives
by providing a descriptive frame—that is, preferences interacting with conditions of practice, and
“clustering” in long-term wholes of deep meaning to the person—that reveals a more fine-grained
structure and phenomenology of interest-based persistence.
Modeling Long-Term Persistence
The structural description of lines of practice entails articulating relationships between local,
short-term activities and those of an extended nature. At short time scales, local activities are
regarded as manifestations (i.e., instantiations) of specific preferences in a person’s repertoire
that are afforded by the immediate context. At larger scales of time, preferences, their mutual
interactions, and their attunements to conditions of practice define long-term formations (i.e., lines
of practice) that capture the multiple, deep essences of a person’s relationship to the hobby. This
time-extensive mapping of a person’s hobby participation, and the resulting structural description,
lends some degree of predictive power to lines of practice. For instance, David’s global preference
for design work in model rocketry suggests that design might be a preference that cuts across
practices in his life—a fact later confirmed by observations that design was a strong theme in his
hobby of train modeling and his activities with a model hovercraft.
Similarly, from refined descriptions of a person’s lines of practice, one might infer that strong
interactions among preferences in a person’s repertoire might be reproduced across other contexts
as well. To exemplify, David’s preferences for design and construction tend to appear together
across several practices. Thus, any future endeavor involving one of these preferences is likely to
be accompanied by the engagement of the other.
Existing models of persistence go so far as to reconstruct the activity patterns in a person’s
interest relationship, and they suggest these patterns reflect (or perhaps results from) changes
in the person’s cognitive and emotional representations of the interest relationship (Fink, 1991;
Krapp, 2003). To the best of my knowledge, however, they have neither explicitly modeled how
these patterns come about, nor can they predict possible paths of development in a person’s
interest relationships.
Accounting for the Dynamics of Interest-Based Pursuits
More often than not individuals who persist in their hobbies pursue several lines of practice
simultaneously and frequently shift practice foci across participation time. For instance, in one
visit to LocalNAR David may fly only low-powered and cheap and wacky rockets. In the following
visit to the same site, however, he may bring no rockets, choosing instead to socialize. Additionally,
in between LocalNAR events, David may attend DistantNAR in an explicit effort to engage with
tall and mighty rockets. Thus, preferences in a person’s repertoire are engaged differentially in the
short and long terms, so that shifting foci of practice across time is the natural course of events.
From an interest-centered perspective, these shifts are more difficult to explain. For example,
in a year long study of an after-school program designed around students’ interests, Edelson
and Joseph (2004; Joseph & Edelson, 2002) found that students start several fruitful, long-term
pursuits, but tend to drop many of them along the way—a finding that they interpreted as flailing
interests. From a lines of practice perspective, however, the long-term fluctuation of engagement is
a natural reflection of the fluid structure of persistent engagement. Again, by capturing the nuances
of long-term, preference-based engagement, lines of practice affords a better understanding of
phenomena intrinsic to interest relationships.
CONCLUSION
Tapping into people’s long-term interests holds the promise to keep them engaged and productive.
In the realm of education, in particular, successfully enlisting and supporting students’ interests
has been argued to lead to deeper and sustained learning, as well as to motivate students to
re-engage school material when the opportunity arises (e.g., Dewey, 1913; Schiefele, 1991).
But what exactly is an interest? What does it mean to be interested in a practice?
The main goal of this article has been to revisit these fundamental theoretical questions. By and
large, research addressing such questions has stressed the content-centered nature of long-term
interests, positing that people develop interests in specific domains. In this manner, people are
said to acquire an interest in mathematics, reading, model rocketry, history, and so on.
In line with extant research in the field, in my study of model rocketeers I have found that
people do indeed develop intense relationships with a set of deeply intertwined activities that
substantially intersect with a certain area/domain. However, a close look at a person’s interest-
based behavior reveals that his/her long-term engagement with such a fabric of activities is
only partly explained by whatever connection the person might have to the specified content.
Indeed, a person’s extended participation in a practice follows from the continuous satisfaction
of various parallel and interacting motives that he/she develops in the practice. Thus it is that
David’s extended participation in model rocketry is contingent on his ability to simultaneously
and differentially advance an identity of creativity and competence in the hobby, to engage design
and construction, and to socialize, as well as to engage certain aspects of the rocketry “content.”
Furthermore, persistence in practice is only locally explained by a person’s relationship to a
specific area/domain, so that at times (and places/contexts) David’s pursuit of model rocketry
had little or nothing to do with the hobby per se (however that might be defined). Yet, his long-
term participation in that practice could not be understood without reference to these “parallel”
activities.
Finally, because any practice in a person’s life is continuous with other practices in his/her
repertoire, interest-based, extended engagement in a practice (say, a hobby) must be explained
in its relation to the person’s larger life. In David’s case, persisting in model rocketry had to be
understood partly in relation to his larger practices of design and construction and their cutting
through several realms of his life.
The theory of lines of practice, developed above, presents a structural account of persistent
engagement that captures these key complexities in interest-based practice participation. While
the theory advances our understanding of interest-based phenomena, its limitations raise a number
of issues for future research. I list two:
180 AZEVEDO
1. What is the persistence equation? In general, I have argued that preferences that recur
throughout time and contexts must somehow participate in perpetuating the person’s
pursuit of the practice. As evidence that multiple preferences participate differentially
in defining one’s patterns of persistence, I showed how particular preference themes
seemed to be more or less prominent across a person’s lines of practice. In addition,
because preferences are contingent on constraints and affordances of practice, conditions
of practice are equally critical to defining and sustaining patterns of persistence.
Yet, given the complexity of the dependencies between preferences and conditions of
practice, one might ask: How is it that a line really “survives”? What forms of mutual
interactions exist between preferences that are deeply defining of the line’s continued
existence? What mutual interactions exist between preferences and conditions of practice
that are critical for a line’s persistence? Is it possible to integrate these interactions in
even a rough model that predicts survival, extinction, or change?
2. Is it possible to better model dynamics and change? Lines of practice constantly change
and evolve. To account for both short- and long-term changes in lines of practice, I
proposed that a preference may be one of two types that describe its role in the context
of a line. Primary preferences define the basic essence of a line of practice, whereas
secondary preferences shape the flavor of activities that are enacted as part of a line.
Long-term changes were then described as preferences changing weights through time.
However, many questions remain. For example, do changes in global preferences (i.e.,
those that cut across many lines of practice) differentially affect primary and secondary
preferences across lines? How do we describe potential interactions between lines with
very similar preference make up? Furthermore, how do primary preferences interact in
shaping line change? How do primary and secondary preferences interact in shaping
changes?
In the long run, my hope is that an improved understanding of lines of practice will advance both
our theorizing on engaged forms of practice participation and our practical efforts to develop
student-centered classrooms.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
In developing this research, I benefited immensely from conversations with Andy diSessa,
Rogers Hall, and Geoff Saxe. Discussions with members of the Boxer Research Group at
Berkeley—including Andy diSessa, Nicole Gillespie, Rafael Granados, Orit Parnafes, and Eric
Eslinger—kept me focused and productive throughout all phases of the research. I thank two
anonymous reviewers and Leona Schauble for their helpful comments and suggestions on earlier
drafts of this article, as well as Leona’s great editorial assistance. I give special thanks to the
subjects who donated their time to this research, especially David, Ervin, Bill, and George, as
well as the organizational personnel in the rocketry clubs that I studied. This work was partly
supported by a Dissertation Year Fellowship from the Spencer Foundation, to which I am greatly
indebted. The views espoused here are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of
the Foundation.
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Cognition and Instruction

Lines of Practice: A Practice-Centered

To link to this article: http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/07370008.2011.556834

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Lines of Practice: A Practice-Centered Theory

University of Massachusetts, Amherst

Based on a three-year-long ethnography of the hobby of model rocketry, I present a practice-centered

the original one.

MODEL ROCKETRY AND INDIVIDUAL INTERESTS

participation—whereby newcomers to a community of practice constantly move between pe-

THE FOCUS OF THE ARTICLE: PERSISTENCE IN OPEN-ENDED,

To begin addressing these issues, I develop an alternative, practice-centered theory of persistent

All videotapes—about 20 hours—were logged for contents at the individual, interpersonal,

... Ellipses show pauses of less than three seconds

according to conceptual categories that reflected commonalties among codes. To exemplify,

THE PRACTICE OF MODEL ROCKETRY

A Day at the Launch Site

DAVID: A CASE STUDY IN MODEL ROCKETRY

An Initial Inventory of David’s Activities

A FIRST ANALYTICAL PASS THROUGH THE DATA

jump through major analytical decisions leading up to my theory of persistent engagement.

countdowns in launches), and a host of others.

Synthesizing: Lines of Practice and the Study of Persistence

Knowing, Learning, and Lines of Practice

idiosyncrasies come to exist.

A Basic Typology of Preferences and Conditions of Practice

ANOTHER PASS AT THE DATA:

Principles for Identifying Preferences and Conditions of Practice

Design. Design is the most extensively illustrated preference in David’s repertoire. It is

(principles of depth of knowledge and specialized knowledge).

Developing an Identity of Competence and Creativity. Model rocketry is clearly a

Developing an identity of competence and creativity is a global preference in David’s model

David’s Lines of Practice

Low-Powered Rocketry. David has a number of low-powered, off-the-shelf models that he

Socializing. Socializing is both a preference in the make-up of some of David’s lines of

EXTENDING THE THEORY:

The Dynamics of Line Enactment

Emergent and Dying Lines

The Object and Organic Nature of Persistent Engagement

practice, rather than focusing on a narrowly defined object-centered relationship, I have

Capturing and Explaining Change and Development

Modeling Long-Term Persistence

Accounting for the Dynamics of Interest-Based Pursuits

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