Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Child Psychology Practice
Child Psychology Practice
Child Psychology Practice
CHILD PSYCHOLOGY
SIXTH EDITION
Volume Four: Child Psychology in Practice
Volume Editors
K. ANN RENNINGER and IRVING E. SIGEL
Editors-in-Chief
WILLIAM DAMON and RICHARD M. LERNER
John Wiley & Sons, Inc.
HANDBOOK OF
CHILD PSYCHOLOGY
HANDBOOK OF
CHILD PSYCHOLOGY
SIXTH EDITION
Volume Four: Child Psychology in Practice
Volume Editors
K. ANN RENNINGER and IRVING E. SIGEL
Editors-in-Chief
WILLIAM DAMON and RICHARD M. LERNER
John Wiley & Sons, Inc.
Copyright 2006 by John Wiley & Sons, Inc. All rights reserved.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data:
Handbook of child psychology / editors-in-chief, William Damon & Richard M. Lerner.
6th ed.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and indexes.
Contents: v. 1. Theoretical models of human development / volume editor,
Richard M. Lerner v. 2. Cognition, perception, and language / volume editors,
Deanna Kuhn, Robert Siegler v. 3. Social, emotional, and personality development /
volume editor, Nancy Eisenberg v 4. Child psychology in practice / volume editors, K.
Ann Renninger, Irving E. Sigel.
ISBN 0-471-27287-6 (set : cloth)
ISBN 0-471-27288-4 (v. 1 : cloth) ISBN 0-471-27289-2 (v. 2 : cloth)
ISBN 0-471-27290-6 (v. 3 : cloth) ISBN 0-471-27291-4 (v. 4 : cloth)
1. Child psychology. I. Damon, William, 1944 II. Lerner, Richard M.
BF721.H242 2006
155.4dc22
2005043951
Printed in the United States of America.
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
In memory of Paul Mussen, whose generosity of spirit
touched our lives and helped build a field.
Lieselotte Ahnert
Free University of Berlin
Berlin, Germany
Nikki L. Aikens
University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill
Chapel Hill, North Carolina
Virginia W. Berninger
Area of Educational Psychology
College of Education
University of Washington
Seattle, Washington
Phyllis C. Blumenfeld
School of Education
University of Michigan
Ann Arbor, Michigan
Monique Boekaerts
Center for the Study of Education
and Instruction
Leiden University
Leiden, The Netherlands
Marc H. Bornstein
Child and Family Research
National Institute of Child Health and
Human Development
National Institutes of Health
Bethesda, Maryland
Maggie Bruck
Department of Psychiatry
School of Medicine
Johns Hopkins University
Baltimore, Maryland
vii
Linda M. Burton
The Center for Human Development and Family
Research in Diverse Contexts
College of Health and Human Development
The Pennsylvania State University
University Park, Pennsylvania
Stephen J. Ceci
Human Development
Cornell University
Ithaca, New York
Dante Cicchetti
Institute of Child Development
University of Minnesota
Minneapolis, Minnesota
George Comstock
The Newhouse School
Syracuse University
Syracuse, New York
Carol Copple
National Association for the Education of
Young Children
Washington, District of Columbia
Erik De Corte
Department of Educational Sciences
Center for Instructional Psychology and Technology
University of Leuven
Leuven, Belgium
Amy J. Dray
Human Development and Psychology
Graduate School of Education
Harvard University
Cambridge, Massachusetts
Contributors
viii Contributors
Elisabeth M. Dykens
Psychology and Human Development and
John F. Kennedy Center for Research on
Human Development
Vanderbilt University
Nashville, Tennessee
Maurice J. Elias
Department of Psychology
Rutgers University
Piscataway, New Jersey
Patricia M. Greenfield
Department of Psychology
University of California, Los Angeles
Los Angeles, California
Christopher J. Harris
College of Education
University of Arizona
Tucson, Arizona
Robert M. Hodapp
Special Education and
John F. Kennedy Center for Research on
Human Development
Vanderbilt University
Nashville, Tennessee
Marilou Hyson
National Association for the Education of
Young Children
Washington, District of Columbia
Jacqueline Jones
Educational Testing Service
Princeton, New Jersey
Jennifer Yusun Kang
Graduate School of Education
Harvard University
Cambridge, Massachusetts
Avigdor Klingman
Faculty of Education
University of Haifa
Haifa, Israel
viii Contributors
Jeffrey S. Kress
William Davidson Graduate School of
Jewish Education
Jewish Theological Seminary
New York, New York
Michael E. Lamb
Social and Political Sciences
Cambridge University
Cambridge, United Kingdom
Robin G. Lanzi
The Georgetown Center on Health
and Education
Georgetown University
Washington, District of Columbia
Daniel K. Lapsley
Teachers College
Ball State University
Muncie, Indiana
Richard Lehrer
Department of Teaching and Learning
Peabody College of Vanderbilt University
Nashville, Tennessee
Lynn S. Liben
Department of Psychology
The Pennsylvania State University
University Park, Pennsylvania
Ronald W. Marx
School of Education
University of Arizona
Tucson, Arizona
Vonnie C. McLoyd
Department of Psychology
University of North Carolina at
Chapel Hill
Chapel Hill, North Carolina
Darcia Narvaez
Department of Psychology
University of Notre Dame
Notre Dame, Indiana
Contributors ix
Alison H. Paris
Department of Psychology
Claremont McKenna College
Claremont, California
Scott G. Paris
Department of Psychology
University of Michigan
Ann Arbor, Michigan
Douglas R. Powell
Child Development and Family Studies
Purdue University
West Lafayette, Indiana
Gabrielle F. Principe
Department of Psychology
Ursinus College
Collegeville, Pennsylvania
Craig T. Ramey
Health Studies
Georgetown Center on Health and Education
Georgetown University
Washington, District of Columbia
Sharon Landesman Ramey
Child and Family Studies
Georgetown Center on Health and Education
Georgetown University
Washington, District of Columbia
K. Ann Renninger
Department of Educational Studies
Swarthmore College
Swarthmore, Pennsylvania
Carrie Rothstein-Fisch
Department of Educational Psychology
and Counseling
California State University, Northridge
Northridge, California
Erica Scharrer
Department of Communication
University of Massachusetts
Amherst, Massachusetts
Leona Schauble
Department of Teaching and Learning
Peabody College of Vanderbilt University
Nashville, Tennessee
Robert L. Selman
Human Development and Psychology
Graduate School of Education
Harvard University
Cambridge, Massachusetts
Irving E. Sigel
Educational Testing Service
Center for Education Policy and Research
Princeton, New Jersey
Catherine E. Snow
Graduate School of Education
Harvard University
Cambridge, Massachusetts
Lalita K. Suzuki
HopeLab
Palo Alto, California
Sheree L. Toth
Mount Hope Family Center
University of Rochester
Rochester, New York
Lieven Verschaffel
Department of Educational Sciences
Center for Instructional Psychology and Technology
University of Leuven
Leuven, Belgium
Jay Belsky
Institute for the Study of Children,
Families and Social Issues
Birkbeck University of London
London, United Kingdom
Carolyn Pape Cowan
Institute of Human Development
University of California, Berkeley
Berkeley, California
Philip A. Cowan
Department of Psychology
University of California, Berkeley
Berkeley, California
Keith A. Crnic
Clinical Psychology
Arizona State University
Tempe, Arizona
Roger Downs
Department of Geography
Penn State University
University Park, Pennsylvania
Byron Egeland
Child Development
Institute of Child Development
University of Minnesota
Minneapolis, Minnesota
Linda M. Espinosa
Learning Teaching and Curriculum
University of Missouri, Columbia
Columbia, Missouri
x
Douglas A. Gentile
Department of Psychology
Iowa State University
Ames, Iowa
Herbert P. Ginsburg
Department of Human Development
Teachers College
Columbia University
New York, New York
Joan E. Grusec
Department of Psychology
University of Toronto
Toronto, Ontario, Canada
Rogers Hall
Vanderbilt University
Nashville, Tennessee
James E. Johnson
Curriculum and Instruction
The Pennsylvania State University
University Park, Pennsylvania
Melanie Killen
Department of Human Development
Center for Children, Relationships, and Culture
University of Maryland
College Park, Maryland
Cynthia Lanius
The Math Forum
Drexel University
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Reviewers
Reviewers xi
Alicia Lieberman
Psychology, Academic Affairs, and Child Trauma
Research Project
University of California, San Francisco
San Francisco General Hospital
San Francisco, California
James Marcia
Department of Psychology
Simon Fraser University
Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada
Steven McGee
Learning Technologies and Assessment
Academic Affairs
Lake Shore Campus
Loyola University Chicago
Chicago, Ilinois
Katheen E. Metz
Cognition and Development
Graduate School of Education
University of California, Berkeley
Berkeley, California
Carolyn B. Morgan
Department of Psychology
University of Wisconsin, Whitewater
Whitewater, Wisconsin
Ageliki Nicolopoulou
Department of Psychology
Lehigh University
Bethlehem, Pennsylvania
Catherine Tamis-Lemonda
Department of Applied Psychology
The Steinhardt School of Education
New York University
New York, New York
Daniel A. Wagner
Department of Education
National Center on Adult Literacy/ International
Literacy Institute
University of Pennsylvania
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Aida Walqui
Teacher Professional Development Program
WestEd
San Francisco, California
Roger P. Weissberg
Department of Psychology
The Collaborative for Academic, Social, and Emotional
Learning
University of Illinois at Chicago
Chicago, Illinois
Dylan Wiliam
Learning and Teaching Research Center
Educational Testing Service
Princeton, New Jersey
Scholarly handbooks play several key roles in their dis-
ciplines. First and foremost, they reflect recent changes
in the field as well as classic works that have survived
those changes. In this sense, all handbooks present their
editors and authors best judgments about what is most
important to know in the field at the time of publication.
But many handbooks also influence the fields that they
report on. Scholarsespecially younger oneslook to
them for sources of information and inspiration to guide
their own work. While taking stock of the shape of its
field, a handbook also shapes the stock of ideas that will
define the fields future. It serves both as an indicator
and as a generator, a pool of received knowledge and a
pool for spawning new insight.
THE HANDBOOKS LIVING TRADITION
Within the field of human development, the Handbook of
Child Psychology has served these key roles to a degree
that has been exceptional even among the impressive
panoply of the worlds many distinguished scholarly
handbooks. The Handbook of Child Psychology has had a
widely heralded tradition as a beacon, organizer, and en-
cyclopedia of developmental study for almost 75 years
a period that covers the vast majority of scientific work
in this field.
It is impossible to imagine what the field would look
like if it had not occurred to Carl Murchison in 1931 to
assemble an eclectic assortment of contributions into
the first Handbook of Child Psychology. Whether or not
Murchison realized this potential (an interesting specu-
lation in itself, given his visionary and ambitious na-
ture), he gave birth to a seminal publishing project that
xiii
not only has endured over time but has evolved into a
thriving tradition across a number of related academic
disciplines.
All through its history, the Handbook has drawn on,
and played a formative role in, the worldwide study of
human development. What does the Handbooks history
tell us about where we, as developmentalists, have been,
what we have learned, and where we are going? What
does it tell us about what has changed and what has re-
mained the same in the questions that we ask, in the
methods that we use, and in the theoretical ideas that we
draw on in our quest to understand human development?
By asking these questions, we follow the spirit of the sci-
ence itself, for developmental questions may be asked
about any endeavor, including the enterprise of studying
human development. To best understand what this field
has to tell us about human development, we must ask how
the field itself has developed. In a field that examines
continuities and changes, we must ask, for the field itself,
what are the continuities and what are the changes?
The history of the Handbook is by no means the whole
story of why the field is where it is today, but it is a fun-
damental part of the story. It has defined the choices
that have determined the fields direction and has influ-
enced the making of those choices. In this regard, the
Handbooks history reveals much about the judgments
and other human factors that shape a science.
THE CAST OF CHARACTERS
Carl Murchison was a scholar/impresario who edited
The Psychological Register; founded and edited key psy-
chological journals; wrote books on social psychology,
Preface to Handbook of Child Psychology,
Sixth Edition
WILLIAM DAMON
politics, and the criminal mind; and compiled an assort-
ment of handbooks, psychology texts, autobiographies of
renowned psychologists, and even a book on psychic be-
liefs (Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Harry Houdini were
among the contributors). Murchisons initial Handbook
of Child Psychology was published by a small university
press (Clark University) in 1931, when the field itself
was still in its infancy. Murchison wrote:
Experimental psychology has had a much older scientific
and academic status [than child psychology], but at the
present time it is probable that much less money is being
spent for pure research in the field of experimental psy-
chology than is being spent in the field of child psychol-
ogy. In spite of this obvious fact, many experimental
psychologists continue to look upon the field of child psy-
chology as a proper field of research for women and for
men whose experimental masculinity is not of the maxi-
mum. This attitude of patronage is based almost entirely
upon a blissful ignorance of what is going on in the
tremendously virile field of child behavior. (Murchison,
1931, p. ix)
Murchisons masculine allusion, of course, is from an-
other era; it could furnish some good material for a social
history of gender stereotyping. That aside, Murchison
was prescient in the task that he undertook and the way
that he went about it. At the time Murchison wrote the
preface to his Handbook, developmental psychology was
known only in Europe and in a few forward-looking
American labs and universities. Nevertheless, Murchison
predicted the fields impending ascent: The time is not
far distant, if it is not already here, when nearly all com-
petent psychologists will recognize that one-half of the
whole field of psychology is involved in the problem of
how the infant becomes an adult psychologically
(Murchison, 1931, p. x).
For his original 1931 Handbook, Murchison looked to
Europe and to a handful of American centers (or field
stations) for child research (Iowa, Minnesota, the Uni-
versity of California at Berkeley, Columbia, Stanford,
Yale, Clark). Murchisons Europeans included a young
genetic epistemologist named Jean Piaget, who, in an
essay on Childrens Philosophies, quoted extensively
from interviews with 60 Genevan children between the
ages of 4 and 12 years. Piagets chapter would provide
American readers with an introduction to his seminal
research program on childrens conceptions of the
world. Another European, Charlotte Bhler, wrote a
chapter on childrens social behavior. In this chapter,
xiv Preface to Handbook of Child Psychology, Sixth Edition
which still is fresh today, Bhler described intricate
play and communication patterns among toddlers, pat-
terns that developmental psychology would not redis-
cover until the late 1970s. Bhler also anticipated the
critiques of Piaget that would appear during the socio-
linguistics heyday of the 1970s:
Piaget, in his studies on childrens talk and reasoning, em-
phasizes that their talk is much more egocentric than so-
cial . . . that children from 3 to 7 years accompany all their
manipulations with talk which actually is not so much in-
tercourse as monologue . . . [but] the special relationship
of the child to each of the different members of the house-
hold is distinctly reflected in the respective conversations.
(Buhler, 1931, p. 138)
Other Europeans included Anna Freud, who wrote on
The Psychoanalysis of the Child, and Kurt Lewin,
who wrote on Environmental Forces in Child Behavior
and Development.
The Americans whom Murchison chose were equally
notable. Arnold Gesell wrote a nativistic account of his
twin studies, an enterprise that remains familiar to us
today, and Stanfords Louis Terman wrote a comprehen-
sive account of everything known about the gifted
child. Harold Jones described the developmental ef-
fects of birth order, Mary Cover Jones wrote about chil-
drens emotions, Florence Goodenough wrote about
childrens drawings, and Dorothea McCarthy wrote
about language development. Vernon Joness chapter on
childrens morals focused on the growth of character,
a notion that was to become lost to the field during the
cognitive-developmental revolution, but that reemerged
in the 1990s as the primary concern in the study of
moral development.
Murchisons vision of child psychology included an
examination of cultural differences as well. His Hand-
book presented to the scholarly world a young anthropol-
ogist named Margaret Mead, just back from her tours of
Samoa and New Guinea. In this early essay, Mead wrote
that her motivation in traveling to the South Seas was to
discredit the views that Piaget, Levy-Bruhl, and other
nascent structuralists had put forth concerning ani-
mism in young childrens thinking. (Interestingly,
about a third of Piagets chapter in the same volume was
dedicated to showing how Genevan children took years
to outgrow animism.) Mead reported some data that she
called amazing: In not one of the 32,000 drawings
( by young primitive children) was there a single case
of personalization of animals, material phenomena, or
inanimate objects (Mead, 1931, p. 400). Mead parlayed
these data into a tough-minded critique of Western psy-
chologys ethnocentrism, making the point that animism
and other beliefs are more likely to be culturally in-
duced than intrinsic to early cognitive development.
This is hardly an unfamiliar theme in contemporary psy-
chology. Mead also offered a research guide for develop-
mental fieldworkers in strange cultures, complete with
methodological and practical advice, such as the follow-
ing: Translate questions into native linguistic categories;
dont do controlled experiments; dont do studies that
require knowing ages of subjects, which are usually un-
knowable; and live next door to the children whom you
are studying.
Despite the imposing roster of authors that Murchison
assembled for the 1931 Handbook of Child Psychology,
his achievement did not satisfy him for long. Barely 2
years later, Murchison put out a second edition, of which
he wrote: Within a period of slightly more than 2 years,
this first revision bears scarcely any resemblance to the
original Handbook of Child Psychology. This is due
chiefly to the great expansion in the field during the past
3 years and partly to the improved insight of the editor
(Murchison, 1933, p. vii). The tradition that Murchison
had brought to life was already evolving.
Murchison saw fit to provide the following warning in
his second edition: There has been no attempt to sim-
plify, condense, or to appeal to the immature mind. This
volume is prepared specifically for the scholar, and its
form is for his maximum convenience (Murchison,
1933, p. vii). It is likely that sales of Murchisons first
volume did not approach textbook levels; perhaps he re-
ceived negative comments regarding its accessibility.
Murchison exaggerated when he wrote that his sec-
ond edition bore little resemblance to the first. Almost
half of the chapters were virtually the same, with minor
additions and updating. (For the record, though, despite
Murchisons continued use of masculine phraseology,
10 of the 24 authors in the second edition were women.)
Some of the authors whose original chapters were
dropped were asked to write about new topics. So, for
example, Goodenough wrote about mental testing rather
than about childrens drawings, and Gesell wrote a gen-
eral statement of his maturational theory that went well
beyond the twin studies.
But Murchison also made some abrupt changes. He
dropped Anna Freud entirely, auguring the marginaliza-
tion of psychoanalysis within academic psychology.
Leonard Carmichael, who was later to play a pivotal role
Preface to Handbook of Child Psychology, Sixth Edition xv
in the Handbook tradition, made an appearance as au-
thor of a major chapter ( by far the longest in the book)
on prenatal and perinatal growth. Three other physio-
logically oriented chapters were added as well: one on
neonatal motor behavior, one on visual-manual func-
tions during the first 2 years of life, and one on physio-
logical appetites such as hunger, rest, and sex.
Combined with the Goodenough and Gesell shifts in
focus, these additions gave the 1933 Handbook more of a
biological thrust, in keeping with Murchisons long-
standing desire to display the hard science backbone of
the emerging field.
Leonard Carmichael was president of Tufts Univer-
sity when he organized Wileys first edition of the
Handbook. The switch from a university press to the
long-established commercial firm of John Wiley &
Sons was commensurate with Carmichaels well-
known ambition; indeed, Carmichaels effort was to
become influential beyond anything that Murchison
might have anticipated. The book (one volume at that
time) was called the Manual of Child Psychology, in
keeping with Carmichaels intention of producing an
advanced scientific manual to bridge the gap between
the excellent and varied elementary textbooks in this
field and the scientific periodical literature
(Carmichael, 1946, p. viii).
The publication date was 1946, and Carmichael com-
plained that this book has been a difficult and expensive
one to produce, especially under wartime conditions
(Carmichael, 1946, p. viii). Nevertheless, the project was
worth the effort. The Manual quickly became the bible of
graduate training and scholarly work in the field, avail-
able virtually everywhere that human development was
studied. Eight years later, now head of the Smithsonian
Institution, Carmichael wrote, in the preface to the 1954
second edition, The favorable reception that the first
edition received not only in America but all over the
world is indicative of the growing importance of the
study of the phenomena of the growth and development of
the child (Carmichael, 1954, p. vii).
Carmichaels second edition had a long life: Not until
1970 did Wiley bring out a third edition. Carmichael was
retired by then, but he still had a keen interest in the
book. At his insistence, his own name became part of the
title of the third edition; it was called, improbably,
Carmichaels Manual of Child Psychology, even though it
had a new editor and an entirely different cast of authors
and advisors. Paul Mussen took over as the editor, and
once again the project flourished. Now a two-volume set,
the third edition swept across the social sciences, gener-
ating widespread interest in developmental psychology
and its related disciplines. Rarely had a scholarly com-
pendium become both so dominant in its own field and so
familiar in related disciplines. The set became an essen-
tial source for graduate students and advanced scholars
alike. Publishers referred to Carmichaels Manual as the
standard against which other scientific handbooks were
compared.
The fourth edition, published in 1983, was now re-
designated by John Wiley & Sons to become once again
the Handbook of Child Psychology. By then, Carmichael
had passed away. The set of books, now expanded to four
volumes, became widely referred to in the field as the
Mussen handbook.
WHAT CARMICHAEL CHOSE FOR THE
NOW EMERGENT FIELD
Leonard Carmichael, who became Wileys editor for
the project in its now commercially funded and ex-
panded versions (the 1946 and 1954 Manuals), made
the following comments about where he looked for his
all-important choices of content:
Both as editor of the Manual and as the author of a spe-
cial chapter, the writer is indebted . . . [for] extensive
excerpts and the use of other materials previously pub-
lished in the Handbook of Child Psychology, Revised Edi-
tion. (1946, p. viii)
Both the Handbook of Child Psychology and the Handbook
of Child Psychology, Revised Edition, were edited by Dr.
Carl Murchison. I wish to express here my profound appre-
ciation for the pioneer work done by Dr. Murchison in pro-
ducing these handbooks and other advanced books in
psychology. The Manual owes much in spirit and content
to the foresight and editorial skill of Dr. Murchison.
(1954, p. viii)
The first quote comes from Carmichaels preface to
the 1946 edition, the second from his preface to the
1954 edition. We shall never know why Carmichael
waited until the 1954 edition to add the personal tribute
to Carl Murchison. Perhaps a careless typist dropped
the laudatory passage from a handwritten version of the
1946 preface and its omission escaped Carmichaels
notice. Or perhaps 8 years of further adult development
increased Carmichaels generosity of spirit. (It also
may be possible that Murchison or his family com-
xvi Preface to Handbook of Child Psychology, Sixth Edition
plained.) In any case, Carmichael acknowledged the
roots of his Manuals, if not always their original editor.
His choice to start with those roots is a revealing part
of the Handbooks history, and it established a strong
intellectual legacy for our present-day descendants of
the early pioneers who wrote for the Murchison and
Carmichael editions.
Although Leonard Carmichael took the 1946 Manual
in much the same direction established by Murchison
back in 1931 and 1933, he did bring it several steps fur-
ther in that direction, added a few twists of his own, and
dropped a couple of Murchisons bolder selections.
Carmichael first appropriated five Murchison chapters
on biological or experimental topics, such as physiologi-
cal growth, scientific methods, and mental testing. He
added three new biologically oriented chapters on ani-
mal infancy, physical growth, and motor and behavioral
maturation (a tour de force by Myrtal McGraw that in-
stantly made Gesells chapter in the same volume obso-
lete). Then he commissioned Wayne Dennis to write an
adolescence chapter that focused exclusively on physio-
logical changes associated with puberty.
On the subject of social and cultural influences in de-
velopment, Carmichael retained five of the Murchison
chapters: two chapters on environmental forces on the
child by Kurt Lewin and by Harold Jones, Dorothea Mc-
Carthys chapter on childrens language, Vernon Joness
chapter on childrens morality (now entitled Character
DevelopmentAn Objective Approach), and Margaret
Meads chapter on primitive children (now enhanced
by several spectacular photos of mothers and children
from exotic cultures around the world). Carmichael also
stayed with three other Murchison topics (emotional de-
velopment, gifted children, and sex differences), but he
selected new authors to cover them. But Carmichael
dropped Piaget and Bhler.
Carmichaels 1954 revision, his second and final edi-
tion, was very close in structure and content to the 1946
Manual. Carmichael again retained the heart of Murchi-
sons original vision, many of Murchisons original
authors and chapter topics, and some of the same mate-
rial that dated all the way back to the 1931 Handbook.
Not surprisingly, the chapters that were closest to
Carmichaels own interests got the most significant up-
dating. Carmichael leaned toward the biological and
physiological whenever possible. He clearly favored ex-
perimental treatments of psychological processes. Yet he
still kept the social, cultural, and psychological analyses
by Lewin, Mead, McCarthy, Terman, Harold Jones, and
Vernon Jones, and he even went so far as to add one new
chapter on social development by Harold and Gladys
Anderson and one new chapter on emotional develop-
ment by Arthur Jersild.
The Murchison and Carmichael volumes make for
fascinating reading, even today. The perennial themes of
the field were there from the start: the nature-nurture
debate; the generalizations of universalists opposed by
the particularizations of contextualists; the alternating
emphases on continuities and discontinuities during on-
togenesis; and the standard categories of maturation,
learning, locomotor activity, perception, cognition, lan-
guage, emotion, conduct, morality, and cultureall
separated for the sake of analysis, yet, as authors
throughout each of the volumes acknowledged, all some-
how inextricably joined in the dynamic mix of human
development.
These things have not changed. Yet, much in the early
editions is now irrevocably dated. Long lists of chil-
drens dietary preferences, sleeping patterns, elimina-
tion habits, toys, and somatic types look quaint and
pointless through todays lenses. The chapters on chil-
drens thought and language were written prior to the
great contemporary breakthroughs in neurology and
brain/ behavior research, and they show it. The chapters
on social and emotional development were ignorant of
the processes of social influence and self-regulation that
soon would be revealed through attribution research and
other studies in social psychology. Terms such as cogni-
tive neuroscience, neuronal networks, behavior genetics,
social cognition, dynamic systems, and positive youth de-
velopment were of course unknown. Even Meads rendi-
tion of the primitive child stands as a weak straw in
comparison to the wealth of cross-cultural knowledge
available in todays cultural psychology.
Most telling, the assortments of odd facts and norma-
tive trends were tied together by very little theory
throughout the Carmichael chapters. It was as if, in the
exhilaration of discovery at the frontiers of a new field,
all the facts looked interesting in and of themselves.
That, of course, is what makes so much of the material
seem odd and arbitrary. It is hard to know what to make
of the lists of facts, where to place them, which ones
were worth keeping track of and which ones are expend-
able. Not surprisingly, the bulk of the data presented in
the Carmichael manuals seems not only outdated by
todays standards but, worse, irrelevant.
By 1970, the importance of theory for understanding
human development had become apparent. Looking back
Preface to Handbook of Child Psychology, Sixth Edition xvii
on Carmichaels last Manual, Paul Mussen wrote, The
1954 edition of this Manual had only one theoretical
chapter, and that was concerned with Lewinian theory
which, so far as we can see, has not had a significant
lasting impact on developmental psychology (Mussen,
1970, p. x). The intervening years had seen a turning
away from the norm of psychological research once
fondly referred to as dust-bowl empiricism.
The Mussen 1970 editionor Carmichaels Manual,
as it was still calledhad a new look and an almost
entirely new set of contents. The two-volume edition
carried only one chapter from the earlier books,
Carmichaels updated version of his own long chapter
on the Onset and Early Development of Behavior,
which had made its appearance under a different title in
Murchisons 1933 edition. Otherwise, as Mussen wrote
in his preface, It should be clear from the outset . . .
that the present volumes are not, in any sense, a revision
of the earlier editions; this is a completely new Manual
(Mussen, 1970, p. x).
And it was. In comparison to Carmichaels last edi-
tion 16 years earlier, the scope, variety, and theoretical
depth of the Mussen volumes were astonishing. The
field had blossomed, and the new Manual showcased
many of the new bouquets that were being produced.
The biological perspective was still strong, grounded by
chapters on physical growth ( by J. M. Tanner) and phys-
iological development ( by Dorothy Eichorn) and by
Carmichaels revised chapter (now made more elegant
by some excerpts from Greek philosophy and modern
poetry). But two other cousins of biology also were rep-
resented, in an ethological chapter by Eckhard Hess and
a behavior genetics chapter by Gerald McClearn. These
chapters were to define the major directions of biologi-
cal research in the field for at least the next 3 decades.
As for theory, Mussens Handbook was thoroughly
permeated with it. Much of the theorizing was organ-
ized around the approaches that, in 1970, were known
as the three grand systems: (1) Piagets cognitive-
developmentalism, (2) psychoanalysis, and (3) learning
theory. Piaget was given the most extensive treatment.
He reappeared in the Manual, this time authoring a
comprehensive (and, some say, definitive) statement of
his entire theory, which now bore little resemblance to
his 1931/1933 sortings of childrens intriguing verbal
expressions. In addition, chapters by John Flavell, by
David Berlyne, by Martin Hoffman, and by William
Kessen, Marshall Haith, and Philip Salapatek all gave
major treatments to one or another aspect of Piagets
body of work. Other approaches were represented as
well. Herbert and Ann Pick explicated Gibsonian the-
ory in a chapter on sensation and perception, Jonas
Langer wrote a chapter on Werners organismic theory,
David McNeill wrote a Chomskian account of language
development, and Robert LeVine wrote an early version
of what was soon to become culture theory.
With its increased emphasis on theory, the 1970 Man-
ual explored in depth a matter that had been all but ne-
glected in the books previous versions: the mechanisms
of change that could account for, to use Murchisons old
phrase, the problem of how the infant becomes an adult
psychologically. In the process, old questions such as
the relative importance of nature versus nurture were re-
visited, but with far more sophisticated conceptual and
methodological tools.
Beyond theory building, the 1970 Manual addressed an
array of new topics and featured new contributors: peer
interaction (Willard Hartup), attachment (Eleanor Mac-
coby and John Masters), aggression (Seymour Feshback),
individual differences (Jerome Kagan and Nathan Kogan),
and creativity (Michael Wallach). All of these areas of in-
terest are still very much with us in the new millennium.
If the 1970 Manual reflected a blossoming of the
fields plantings, the 1983 Handbook reflected a field
whose ground cover had spread beyond any boundaries
that could have been previously anticipated. New
growth had sprouted in literally dozens of separate lo-
cations. A French garden, with its overarching designs
and tidy compartments, had turned into an English gar-
den, a bit unruly but glorious in its profusion. Mussens
two-volume Carmichaels Manual had now become the
four-volume Mussen Handbook, with a page-count in-
crease that came close to tripling the 1970 edition.
The grand old theories were breaking down. Piaget
was still represented by his 1970 piece, but his influence
was on the wane throughout the other chapters. Learning
theory and psychoanalysis were scarcely mentioned. Yet
the early theorizing had left its mark, in vestiges that
were apparent in new approaches, and in the evident con-
ceptual sophistication with which authors treated their
material. No return to dust bowl empiricism could be
found anywhere in the set. Instead, a variety of classical
and innovative ideas were coexisting: Ethology, neurobi-
ology, information processing, attribution theory, cul-
tural approaches, communications theory, behavioral
genetics, sensory-perception models, psycholinguistics,
sociolinguistics, discontinuous stage theories, and con-
tinuous memory theories all took their places, with none
xviii Preface to Handbook of Child Psychology, Sixth Edition
quite on center stage. Research topics now ranged from
childrens play to brain lateralization, from childrens
family life to the influences of school, day care, and dis-
advantageous risk factors. There also was coverage of
the burgeoning attempts to use developmental theory as
a basis for clinical and educational interventions. The
interventions usually were described at the end of chap-
ters that had discussed the research relevant to the
particular intervention efforts, rather than in whole
chapters dedicated specifically to issues of practice.
This brings us to the efforts under the present edito-
rial team: the Handbooks fifth and sixth editions ( but
really the seventh and eighth editions, if the germinal
two pre-Wiley Murchison editions are counted). I must
leave it to future commentators to provide a critical sum-
mation of what we have done. The volume editors have
offered introductory and/or concluding renditions of
their own volumes. I will add to their efforts here only
by stating the overall intent of our design and by com-
menting on some directions that our field has taken in
the years from 1931 to 2006.
We approached our editions with the same purpose
that Murchison, Carmichael, and Mussen before us had
shared: to provide, as Mussen wrote, a comprehen-
sive and accurate picture of the current state of knowl-
edgethe major systematic thinking and researchin
the most important research areas of the psychology of
human development (Mussen, 1983, p. vii). We as-
sumed that the Handbook should be aimed specifically
for the scholar, as Murchison declared, and that it
should have the character of an advanced text, as
Carmichael defined it. We expected, though, that our
audiences may be more interdisciplinary than the read-
erships of previous editions, given the greater tendency
of todays scholars to cross back and forth among fields
such as psychology, cognitive science, neurobiology,
history, linguistics, sociology, anthropology, educa-
tion, and psychiatry. We also believed that research-
oriented practitioners should be included under the
rubric of the scholars for whom this Handbook was
intended. To that end, for the first time in 1998 and
again in the present edition, we devoted an entire vol-
ume to child psychology in practice.
Beyond these very general intentions, we have let
chapters in the Handbooks fifth and sixth editions take
their own shape. We solicited the chapters from authors
who were widely acknowledged to be among the leading
experts in their areas of the field, although we know
that, given an entirely open-ended selection process and
no limits of budget, we would have invited a large num-
ber of other leading researchers whom we did not have
the spaceand thus the privilegeto include. With
very few exceptions, every author whom we invited
agreed to accept the challenge. Our only real, and great,
sadness was to hear of the passing of several authors
from the 1998 edition prior to our assembly of the pres-
ent edition. Where possible, we arranged to have their
collaborators revise and update their chapters.
Our directive to authors was simple: Convey your
area of the field as you see it. From then on, the authors
took center stagewith, of course, much constructive
feedback from reviewers and volume editors. No one
tried to impose a perspective, a preferred method of in-
quiry, or domain boundaries on any of the chapters. The
authors expressed their views on what researchers in
their areas attempt to accomplish, why they do so, how
they go about it, what intellectual sources they draw on,
what progress they have made, and what conclusions
they have reached.
The result, in my opinion, is still more glorious pro-
fusion of the English garden genre, but perhaps con-
tained a bit by some broad patterns that have emerged
over the past decade. Powerful theoretical models and
approachesnot quite unified theories, such as the
three grand systemshave begun once again to organize
much of the fields research and practice. There is great
variety in these models and approaches, and each is
drawing together significant clusters of work. Some
have been only recently formulated, and some are com-
binations or modifications of classic theories that still
have staying power.
Among the formidable models and approaches that
the reader will find in this Handbook are the dynamic
system theories, the life span and life course ap-
proaches, cognitive science and neuronal models, the
behavior genetics approach, person-context interaction
theories, action theories, cultural psychology, and a
wide assortment of neo-Piagetian and neo-Vygotskian
models. Although some of these models and approaches
have been in the making for some time, they have now
come into their own. Researchers are drawing on them
directly, taking their implied assumptions and hypothe-
ses seriously, using them with specificity and control,
and exploiting their implications for practice.
Another pattern that emerges is a rediscovery and
exploration of core processes in human development
that had been underexamined by the generation of re-
searchers just prior to the present one. Scientific interest
Preface to Handbook of Child Psychology, Sixth Edition xix
has a way of moving in alternating cycles (or spirals, for
those who wish to capture the progressive nature of sci-
entific development). In our time, developmental study
has cycled away from classic topics such as motivation
and learningnot in the sense that they were entirely
forgotten, or that good work ceased to be done in such
areas, but in the sense that they no longer were the most
prominent subjects of theoretical reflection and debate.
Some of the relative neglect was intentional, as scholars
got caught up in controversies about whether psycholog-
ical motivation was a real phenomenon worthy of
study or whether learning could or should be distin-
guished from development in the first place. All this has
changed. As the contents of our current edition attest,
developmental science always returns, sooner or later, to
concepts that are necessary for explaining the heart of
its concerns, progressive change in individuals and so-
cial groups over time, and concepts such as learning and
motivation are indispensable for this task. Among the
exciting features of this Handbook edition are the ad-
vances it presents in theoretical and empirical work on
these classic concepts.
The other concept that has met some resistance in
recent years is the notion of development itself. For
some social critics, the idea of progress, implicit in the
notion of development, has seemed out of step with
principles such as equality and cultural diversity. Some
genuine benefits have accrued from that critique; for
example, the field has worked to better appreciate di-
verse developmental pathways. But, like many critique
positions, it led to excesses. For some, it became ques-
tionable to explore issues that lie at the heart of human
development. Growth, advancement, positive change,
achievement, and standards for improved performance
and conduct, all were questioned as legitimate subjects
of investigation.
Just as in the cases of learning and motivation, no
doubt it was inevitable that the fields center of gravity
sooner or later would return to broad concerns of devel-
opment. The story of growth from infancy to adulthood is
a developmental story of multifaceted learning, acquisi-
tions of skills and knowledge, waxing powers of attention
and memory, growing neuronal and other biological ca-
pacities, formations and transformations of character
and personality, increases and reorganizations in the un-
derstanding of self and others, advances in emotional and
behavioral regulation, progress in communicating and
collaborating with others, and a host of other achieve-
ments documented in this edition. Parents, teachers, and
other adults in all parts of the world recognize and value
such developmental achievements in children, although
they do not always know how to understand them, let
alone how to foster them.
The sorts of scientific findings that the Handbooks
authors explicate in their chapters are needed to pro-
vide such understanding. The importance of sound sci-
entific understanding has become especially clear in
recent years, when news media broadcast story after
story based on simplistic and biased popular specula-
tions about the causes of human development. The
careful and responsible discourse found in these chap-
ters contrasts sharply with the typical news story about
the role of parents, genes, or schools in childrens
growth and behavior. There is not much contest as to
which source the public looks to for its information and
stimulation. But the good news is that scientific truth
usually works its way into the public mind over the long
run. The way this works would make a good subject for
developmental study some day, especially if such a
study could find a way to speed up the process. In the
meantime, readers of this edition of the Handbook of
Child Psychology will find the most solid, insightful
xx Preface to Handbook of Child Psychology, Sixth Edition
and current set of scientific theories and findings
available in the field today.
February 2006
Palo Alto, California
REFERENCES
Bhler, C. (1931). The social participation of infants and toddlers. In
C. Murchison (Ed.), A handbook of child psychology. Worcester,
MA: Clark University Press.
Carmichael, L. (Ed.). (1946). Manual of child psychology. New York:
Wiley.
Carmichael, L. (Ed.). (1954). Manual of child psychology (2nd ed.).
New York: Wiley.
Mead, M. (1931). The primitive child. In C. Murchison (Ed.), A
handbook of child psychology. Worcester, MA: Clark University
Press.
Murchison, C. (Ed.). (1931). A handbook of child psychology. Worces-
ter, MA: Clark University Press.
Murchison, C. (Ed.). (1933). A handbook of child psychology (2nd
ed.). Worcester, MA: Clark University Press.
Mussen, P. (Ed.). (1970). Carmichaels manual of child psychology.
New York: Wiley.
Mussen, P. (Ed.). (1983). Handbook of child psychology. New York:
Wiley.
A work as significant as the Handbook of Child Psychol-
ogy is always produced by the contributions of numerous
people, individuals whose names do not necessarily ap-
pear on the covers or spines of the volumes. Most impor-
tant, we are grateful to the more than 150 colleagues
whose scholarship gave life to the Sixth Edition. Their
enormous knowledge, expertise, and hard work make
this edition of the Handbook the most important refer-
ence work in developmental science.
In addition to the authors of the chapters of the four
volumes of this edition, we were fortunate to have been
able to work with two incredibly skilled and dedicated
editors within the Institute for Applied Research in
Youth Development at Tufts University, Jennifer Davi-
son and Katherine Connery. Their can-do spirit
and their impressive ability to attend to every detail
of every volume were invaluable resources enabling
this project to be completed in a timely and high
quality manner.
It may be obvious, but we want to stress also that
without the talent, commitment to quality, and profes-
sionalism of our editors at John Wiley & Sons, this edi-
tion of the Handbook would not be a reality and would
not be the cutting-edge work we believe it to be. The
breadth of the contributions of the Wiley staff to the
Handbook is truly enormous. Although we thank all
these colleagues for their wonderful contributions, we
wish to make special note of four people in particular:
Patricia Rossi, Senior Editor, Psychology, Linda Wit-
zling, Senior Production Editor, Isabel Pratt, Associate
Editor, and Peggy Alexander, Vice President and Pub-
lisher. Their creativity, professionalism, sense of bal-
ance and perspective, and unflagging commitment to the
tradition of quality of the Handbook were vital ingredi-
ents for any success we may have with this edition.
We are also deeply grateful to Pam Blackmon and her
xxi
Acknowledgments
colleagues at Publications Development Company for
undertaking the enormous task of copy editing and pro-
ducing the thousands of pages of the Sixth Edition.
Their professionalism and commitment to excellence
were invaluable resources and provided a foundation
upon which the editors work was able to move forward
productively.
Child development typically happens in families. So
too, the work of editors on the Handbook moved along
productively because of the support and forbearance of
spouses, partners, and children. We thank all of our
loved ones for being there for us throughout the several
years on which we have worked on the Sixth Edition.
Numerous colleagues critiqued the chapters in man-
uscript form and provided valuable insights and sug-
gestions that enhanced the quality of the final
products. We thank all of these scholars for their enor-
mous contributions.
William Damon and Richard M. Lerner thank the
John Templeton Foundation for its support of their re-
spective scholarly endeavors. In addition, Richard M.
Lerner thanks the National 4-H Council for its support
of his work. Nancy Eisenberg thanks the National Insti-
tute of Mental Health, the Fetzer Institute, and The In-
stitute for Research on Unlimited LoveAltruism,
Compassion, Service ( located at the School of Medi-
cine, Case Western Reserve University) for their sup-
port. K. Ann Renninger and Irving E. Sigel thank
Vanessa Ann Gorman for her editorial support for Vol-
ume 4. Support from the Swarthmore College Provosts
Office to K. Ann Renninger for editorial assistance on
this project is also gratefully acknowledged.
Finally, in an earlier form, with Barbara Rogoff s en-
couragement, sections of the preface were published in
Human Development (April 1997). We thank Barbara
for her editorial help in arranging this publication.
Contents
Introduction: Child Psychology Research in Practice xxvii
K. Ann Renninger and Irving E. Sigel
Section One: Research Advances and Implications
for Practice in Education
1
M
ediated K of R
efe
re
n
t
Third, an understanding of representational strategies
plays an important role in allowing the child to use rep-
resentations to construct knowledge of the referent.
With an understanding of the representational process
(e.g., how a Mercator projection works), the child can
use the representation to obtain knowledge about the
referent. The child thus obtains mediated knowledge
of the referent (e.g., learning about the relative land
sizes of Greenland and Brazil). Absent an understand-
ing of the relevant representational strategies, however,
the child runs the risk of inferring the wrong informa-
tion, or obtaining what I have referred to (Liben, 1999)
as mis-mediated knowledge of the referent (e.g.,
thinking that Greenland is larger than Brazil).
The second relevant connection between the map
user and the map is the spatial relationship between the
person and the space depicted on the map. This connec-
tion is relevant any time the map user is within the de-
picted space. Figure 6.10 illustrates this situation by
showing a person in a room that has, within it, a map of
that room. The map shows the location of the person on
the map. This map marks the self-map relationship
(a relationship that would exist even if the map had not
been physically marked). In addition to the self-map re-
lationship, there is also a self-space relationship. In
Figure 6.10, this relationship is shown by the drawing of
the person in the room. In actuality, this is a representa-
tion as well. A real person-space relationship is your
current position in relation to the room, town, country,
state, region, country, continent, planet, solar system,
and universe in which you find yourself as you read this
chapter. In addition, whenever there is a map of a space
(as depicted in Figure 6.10), there is also a map-space
relationship that relates the map and the space irre-
spective of any viewer. In the particular case shown in
Figure 6.10, the map-space relationship is unaligned;
Figure 6.10 The map-space-self relation.
The Developmental Pathway to Map Understanding 225
that is, the map and the room are not oriented exactly in
the same direction. To bring the map into alignment with
the room, the map would need to be rotated as shown by
the arrow labeled rotation.
Different map tasks vary with respect to the degree
to which they call on the users understanding of the re-
lationships among map, space, and person. In many uses
of maps, one may work successfully within the map
space itself. For example, given a map of the United
States, someone might be asked whether Chicago or At-
lanta is closer to New York City. This question can be
answered correctly without attending to the connection
between the mapped cities and the real cities. Other map
uses require attention only to the map-space relation-
ship. For example, given a map of a room, one might be
asked to align the map with the room. If the map and
room are as shown in Figure 6.10, one would need to ro-
tate the map as indicated by the rotation arrow to bring
the map into alignment. In neither of these two tasks
would it be necessary to figure out ones own location in
the room or on the map. Still other map uses, however,
require attention to the self-map relationship. For exam-
ple, given a map of a campus, one might be asked to walk
from ones current location to, say, a building marked
with a star on the map. To succeed on this task, it would
be necessary to find ones current location and the tar-
get building on the map, plan a route on the map, and
then relate the mapped space to the real space, updating
ones place on the map as one executed the route.
In the two subsections that follow, I describe illustra-
tive findings from our research on childrens developing
understanding of various kinds of map-space-person re-
lationships (Downs & Liben, 1991, 1993; Downs et al.,
1988; Liben & Downs, 1986, 1989, 1991, 1994). Some
of the data come from stand-alone investigations in
which children were interviewed or tested in sessions
designed to collect research data. Most of the data, how-
ever, were collected in the course of teaching children
about maps in their regular classrooms. We served as
classroom teachers for a 5-week map curriculum given
to 265 children in 11 kindergarten and first- and second-
grade classes. In addition, we also conducted individual
assessments (e.g., on standardized and Piagetian mea-
sures of spatial abilities or concepts) of those children
from whom we had received signed parental permission
(roughly 75% of the sample). Portions of the curriculum
(with associated data collection) were also given in
smaller units (ranging from a day or two to a week or
two) to children in later elementary school grades and in
middle schools.
Classroom lessons thus simultaneously served two
purposes. One was to introduce students to a wide range
of maps and map functions and to give them experience
in interpreting and using maps. The second was to col-
lect data that would enable us to characterize childrens
developing understanding of maps. These dual goals ne-
cessitated some compromises with respect to each. For
example, sometimes pedagogical requirements led us to
use activities in a fixed sequence even though research
design would have dictated counterbalancing orders;
sometimes research requirements led us to ask students
to work individually even though pedagogical considera-
tions might have led us to ask students to work collabo-
ratively. The findings from this program of research
have fed into the design of a number of subsequent edu-
cational interventions, ranging from brief consultancies
to extended development and evaluation of educational
curriculum. Highlights of our research findings are pre-
sented in the remainder of the current section. Illustra-
tions of educational interventions from these and other
curricula are given in the section that follows.
Developing Representational
Map Understanding
As noted earlier, one of the key aspects of map under-
standing is interpreting the referential content of maps.
Fundamental challenges may be inferred from the ear-
lier discussion of the duality principle of maps: the need
to (a) distinguish which qualities of the representation
are symbolic and which qualities of the representation
are incidental, ( b) avoid assuming that qualities of the
symbol necessarily reflect qualities of the referent, and
(c) avoid assuming that qualities of the referent will be
evident in qualities of the symbol. In addition, having
understood that meaning cannot be determined by infer-
ring qualities of the referent from qualities of the repre-
sentation, the map user is also challenged by the need to
(d) understand how to consult a map key to obtain the
necessary information about the assigned meaning of
symbolic qualities.
There are two levels of representational meaning that
need to be understood (Liben & Downs, 1989). The first
level, holistic, refers to understanding the referential
meaning as a whole, that is, understanding the meaning
of the representation at a molar level. At least for famil-
iar map forms, even very young children generally show
good holistic understanding of the referential meaning
of maps or other place representations. For example,
when preschoolers (age 3 to 6 years) were interviewed
226 Education for Spatial Thinking
and asked what a Rand McNally road map of Pennsylva-
nia showed, virtually all children named some kind of
place referent. Where they faltered was in identifying
the particular place. Illustrative was one child who re-
sponded that the map showed part of Africa and an-
other who responded particularly expansively that it
showed California, Canada, the West, and the North
Coast (Downs et al., 1988). Given preschoolers lack of
reading skills, it is not surprising that they were unable
to identify it as Pennsylvania, but what is more telling
was their apparent willingness to make assumptions
about what the map might depict. Even holistic under-
standing, however, depends on the childs familiarity
with the map form. A less familiar tourist map of Wash-
ington, DC (in which streets were depicted in white on a
blue background), that was readily interpreted by adults
as showing a city was either entirely uninterpretable to
preschool children or was interpreted incorrectly even at
the holistic level (e.g., identifying it as, for example, a
cage or a space ship).
The second level, componential, refers to understand-
ing the referential meaning of individual pieces or com-
ponents of the map. Even children who are successful in
interpreting the meaning of the map as a whole often
show dramatic errors in interpreting individual symbols.
Results from our interviews of children (Liben &
Downs, 2001) showed that preschool children often in-
ferred meaning on the basis of what the symbol looked
like even when the interpretation would be impossible
given the holistic meaning of the map they had just iden-
tified. For example, preschoolers who had just correctly
identified the environmental referent of the road map as
a place (even if California rather than Pennsylvania),
went on to interpret the yellow symbols for populated
regions as eggs and firecrackers, apparently be-
cause the splotchy yellow areas looked like eggs or fire-
crackers. Errors of this kind suggest that the child
assumes that the symbol stands in an iconic relation to a
referent and fails to use the referential context to con-
strain interpretations of resemblance. Even when chil-
dren interpreted the referential category correctly, they
tended to overextend qualities of the symbol to the refer-
ent. Illustrative were children who inferred that a red
line used to represent a road meant that the road itself
was actually red. Similar assumptions informed chil-
drens production of symbols. Illustrative from our
classroom studies was the finding that when asked to
produce maps of their classrooms, first and second
graders almost always generated iconic symbols (Liben
& Downs, 1994). Furthermore, they typically rejected
abstract symbols suggested to them, as when children
laughed at our suggestion that they might use asterisks
to show the file cabinets because file cabinets dont
look like stars (Liben & Downs, 1989).
More systematic evidence for the powerful effect of
childrens belief in iconicity is provided by an investiga-
tion in which 5- and 6-year-old children watched two
videotapes of people placing symbols on a map (Myers
& Liben, 2005). One videotape showed a person placing
green dots on the map with actions and comments that
conveyed a symbolic, functional intent. This person
commented that her intent was to use this, and she ex-
plicitly related locations in the room to locations on the
map. Before placing each dot, she looked up as if watch-
ing someone in the room and made comments about the
connection between the room location and the dot loca-
tion, such as, Hmm. . . . I see that she hid the next one
over there in the room, and that means I should draw a
green dot here on my paper. The second videotape
showed a person placing red dots on the same map but
with actions and comments that conveyed an aesthetic
intent. For example, she commented on selecting a red
pen because red was her favorite color, mentioned her in-
tent to make it prettier, and explained her plan to hang it
on the wall. Furthermore, as she decided where to place
the dots, she looked at only the representation itself.
After viewing both videotapes, children were asked
about the two characters intents, and then asked which of
the two drawings they would use to help them find hidden
fire trucks. Almost all the children, including those who
were able to explain the actors aesthetic and symbolic in-
tentions correctly, incorrectly selected the drawing with
the red dots, suggesting that they were seduced by the
match between the color of the dots and fire trucks.
These data, along with findings that have been re-
ported elsewhere (Liben & Downs, 1989, 1991, 1994),
provide evidence that interpreting the full range of rep-
resentational meaning of maps continues to challenge
children at least through the early elementary school
grades. This is true not only for maps that are created
primarily to present or record location information (as
in the road and room maps used in the work described
earlier) but also for maps that are created to spatialize
other kinds of information (e.g., thematic maps such as
the kind illustrated in Figure 6.7). For example, in an in-
vestigation of kindergarten through third-grade chil-
drens understanding of thematic maps (Newman &
Liben, 1996), children had difficulty interpreting the
The Developmental Pathway to Map Understanding 227
graphic symbolization of population density in several
kinds of maps.
At first glance, it might seem difficult to reconcile the
conclusion that the representational meaning of maps is
challenging for children of these ages with the well-
known finding from scale-model tasks and related sym-
bol tasks (DeLoache, 1987; Troseth, 2003) that children
understand the stand for relationship by 3 years of age.
The latter tasks, however, typically place only very mini-
mal demands on childrens understanding of symbols be-
cause there is usually a unique symbol for each unique
referent. When representation tasks include symbols that
are less iconic or include multiple instances of the same
symbol, performance is significantly worse (see Blades
& Spencer, 1994; Liben & Yekel, 1996). In such cases,
children may need to rely on spatial understanding to dis-
ambiguate which of two or more identical symbols stands
for a particular referent. In the next section, I focus on
childrens understanding of the spatial meaning of maps
more explicitly.
Developing Spatial Map Understanding
The second major set of challenges in map understand-
ing is presented by the spatial qualities of maps shown in
the cartographic eye, discussed earlier (see Figure 6.1).
As was true in the representational domain, empirical
data concerning the spatial domain also show a mixture
of understanding and confusion.
Viewing Distance
The first dimension, viewing distance, involves the vari-
ous scale, proportional, and metric features of maps. Al-
though children are, in general, able to understand the
general concept that something small, like a map, can
stand for something large, like a room or town, that un-
derstanding is somewhat fragile. First, young children
are sometimes confused by the disparity between the
size of symbols and the size of their referents. In our re-
search with the Pennsylvania road map described ear-
lier, for example, we encountered a number of preschool
children who had difficulty interpreting particular sym-
bols because of their size. Illustrative was a child who
denied the possibility that the road lines actually showed
roads because they were not fat enough for two cars to
go on (Liben & Downs, 2001). Another child who was
shown a plastic relief map of the local area rejected the
idea that the raised portions could be mountains, saying
that theyre not high enough to be mountains.
Second, children in both preschool and early elemen-
tary school grades have difficulty completing map tasks
that require sensitivity to proportional measurement,
even allowing for fairly wide margins of error. One illus-
tration from our research comes from a task in which
first- and second-grade children were first given a
copy of an aerial photograph of Chicago, reproduced in
Figure 6.11 (Liben & Downs, 1991). After class discus-
sions about how the photograph was taken and how it
might be used to help create a map of the city, each child
was asked to use it as the basis for drawing a sketch map
of the city. Each child was then given a copy of a black-
and-white map of a portion of Chicago. Children were
given some time to try to figure out which section of the
aerial photograph was depicted in the map, and were
then given an acetate sheet to place over the photograph.
The acetate contained a rectangle outlining the area
shown on the map as well as eight numbered circles
marking locations. Children were asked to place num-
bered stickers on the map to show the locations analo-
gous to those circled on the photograph. Results are also
shown in Figure 6.11. Not surprisingly, second-grade
children performed better than first-grade children.
What is more interesting, though, are the differential
levels of success across the locations. Although there
are many potential hypotheses about what might account
for the pattern of data, one possible explanation con-
cerns the kind of spatial cues available for given items.
When children could use a topological or landmark clue
(e.g., the bend in the breakwater), they did very well.
When, however, they needed to judge location based on
proportional distances on the two representations at dif-
ferent scales, they performed more poorly.
Research by other investigators is consistent with the
notion that children find it particularly difficult to under-
stand the scale relation between a space and its represen-
tation. For example, in a study in which 6- to 12-year-old
children were asked to select symbols of the appropriate
size to represent buildings on a map, only those in the
oldest group chose symbols that were scaled consistently
(Towler & Nelson, 1968). In a task that required children
to scale up from a map to the referent space (Uttal,
1996), 4- to 6-year-old children first learned where toy
symbols belonged on a map of a room. Once locations
were learned to criterion, children were asked to place
the real toys in the real room in their analogous locations.
Consistent with the idea that scale is challenging was the
finding that children generally performed well with re-
spect to reproducing the configurations among the toys,
228 Education for Spatial Thinking
but often performed poorly with respect to scaling the
configuration appropriately to the room-size space (e.g.,
clustering the toys in one corner).
Viewing Angle
The second dimension of the cartographic eye, viewing
angle, challenges childrens understanding of how changes
in vantage point affect the appearance of graphic repre-
sentations. Again, there are several kinds of data showing
that unfamiliar viewing angles make it challenging for
children to interpret maps. One line of evidence comes
from the spontaneous errors children make in interpreting
symbols on plan (overhead) maps. For example, an over-
head view of a double sink on a plan map of the preschool
classroom was interpreted as a door (Liben & Yekel,
1996), an interpretation that makes sense if one assumes
that the child thought of the graphic as a straight-ahead
view of door panels. Similar findings have been obtained
in research using aerial photographs, as, for example,
when primary school children identified tennis courts as
doors (Spencer, Harrison, & Darvizeh, 1980) and railroad
cards lined up in parallel as bookshelves (see Liben &
Downs, 2001). Another line of evidence that children have
difficulty interpreting representations that depict refer-
ents from unfamiliar vantage points comes from their
differential performance on maps using different view-
ing angles. Preschool children were more accurate in
placing stickers to show objects locations on an oblique
map of their class that more closely mirrors their own
viewing experience than on a plan map that depicts the
room in a way that is never experienced directly (Liben &
Yekel, 1996).
A third line of evidence comes from production tasks
in which children were asked to take an overhead view-
ing angle in producing maps. Illustrative data come from
first- and second-grade children who were asked to
draw their school building as it would look to a bird fly-
ing overhead and looking straight down. Following the
drawing task, children were asked to select the overhead
view of their school from among six alternatives. Chil-
drens drawings were scored as elevation (eye-level)
views, overhead views, mixed elevation and overhead
views, or unscorable ( because an undifferentiated rec-
tangle could be either a windowless side or a roof of a
rectangular building). Figure 6.12 shows two sample re-
sponses. One is an elevation view of a generic building
Figure 6.11 Aerial photograph of Chicago ( left) on which locations were marked. Maps (right) show percentages of correct
responses at each location.
The Developmental Pathway to Map Understanding 229
Figure 6.12 Two first-grade childrens responses when asked to draw their school as it would look to a bird flying overhead
and looking straight down ( left) and distributions of choices when asked to select an overhead view of the school (right). Lower
right shows the correct response.
that bears no relation to the school other than the fact
that both are buildings. The second is a plan view that is
remarkably close to accurate except for omitting an en-
larged area at the end of one wing of the school. Inter-
estingly, both examples come from students in the same
first-grade class, providing a dramatic illustration of the
individual differences within chronological age and de-
mographic group discussed in an earlier section of this
chapter. Overall, though, second-grade children were
systematically better at this task than first-grade chil-
dren: There was a decrease in the incidence of elevation
views from first to second grade (32% to 8%), an in-
crease in plan views (27% to 44%), and little change in
either the incidence of mixed view drawings (8% in
each) or unscorable drawings (34% to 40%). Choices
given on the selection task are also shown in Figure
6.12. As may be seen from the distributions of selec-
tions, as anticipated, children at both grades were better
able to select than produce a correct overhead view, and
performance improved with age.
Viewing Azimuth
The third dimension, viewing azimuth, refers to the ori-
entation from which the referent space is depicted. One
kind of challenge in this domain arises from the need to
understand the relationship between the orientation of
the map in relation to the space it represents, particu-
larly when the two are unaligned. This situation arises
230 Education for Spatial Thinking
in many wayfinding or navigation tasks in real life, as
when someone is using a map to navigate, and because of
a series of turns, the relationship between the map and
the space is constantly changing. Under such circum-
stances, the map user must either mentally compensate
for the misalignment (e.g., by mentally rotating the map)
or physically compensate ( by actively turning the map
with each change in physical direction so that the map
and space are continually brought back into alignment).
In some circumstances, the map cannot be physically
moved (as when You Are Here maps are mounted on a
wall out of alignment with the space; see M. Levine,
Marchon, & Hanley, 1984); in these circumstances, the
user must accommodate mentally.
In one investigation designed to study childrens abil-
ity to respond to challenges raised by unaligned maps
(Liben & Downs, 1993), children from kindergarten,
first-grade, second-grade, and combined fifth/sixth-
grade classes were given maps of their classroom and
asked to use colored arrows to mark locations and orien-
tations. Specifically, an adult went to a series of places
in the classroom and pointed straight ahead, and chil-
dren were asked to place colored arrows on their maps to
show where he was standing and in which direction he
was pointing. After completing the task once with the
maps aligned with the classroom, a second set of maps
was distributed, but this time maps were placed on chil-
drens desks so that they were 180 out of alignment
with the room. Children were told that they were going
to be doing the task again, but this time while the map
was turned around. Children were asked to leave the
map on their desks as it was placed, and a colored dot
was visible to teachers to ensure that the map remained
in the intended orientation. As the task progressed, peri-
odic reminders were given, such as Remember, think
carefully. Its hard because your map is turned around.
A summary of childrens accuracy in placing and ori-
enting arrows is given, by grade, in Figure 6.13. As
shown, children improved with age, reaching high levels
of performance when the map was aligned sooner than
when it was unaligned. Also shown in Figure 6.13 are
composites of all responses in one first-grade classroom
to one location under both aligned and unaligned condi-
tions. What the distribution of the arrow responses sug-
gests is that in the unaligned condition, many children
were unable to compensate for the 180 rotation of the
map, with a cluster of errors in location exactly opposite
the correct one. This impression is supported by examin-
ing the directions of arrows for each of the six individual
items (details are given in Liben & Downs, 1993).
Among kindergarten children, even for the single item
that elicited the best performance, the modal response
was an arrow with a 180 error. This is precisely the
error that would occur if the child failed to compensate
for the maps rotation. Although by grade 1, the modal
response to the easiest item was correct, the modal error
was still 180. By grade 2, the modal response was cor-
rect, with some disproportionate appearance of 180 er-
rors for some items. By grades 5 and 6, virtually the
only errors that occurred were errors of precision (i.e.,
off by only a small number of degrees), with 180 errors
virtually absent (only 3% of the responses on a single
one of the six items). As on other tasks, and consistent
with the picture painted of the striking individual dif-
ferences in spatial thinking discussed earlier, perfor-
mance varied dramatically even within each age group.
Table 6.1 gives the percentages of children receiving
each score in each grade. What is perhaps most remark-
able is that some (albeit very few) kindergarten children
were performing perfectly or nearly perfectly at the
same time that some (again, albeit few) second-grade
children were incorrect on all or all but one item.
Similar kinds of tasks have been used to examine the
developing ability to solve problems that involve different
viewing azimuths. For example, in research with first-
and second-grade children (Liben & Downs, 1986), par-
ticipants were shown oblique-angle aerial photographs of
their school and asked to place arrow stickers on a plan
map of their school neighborhood to show the direction
from which the photographs were taken; then they were
TABLE 6.1 Percentage of Children Receiving Each Score on
Classroom Person Location Task, by Alignment Condition and
Grade
Total Number Correct
0 1 2 3 4 5 6
Aligned
Kindergarten 22 11 14 13 22 16 2
Grade 1 4 9 7 15 22 25 18
Grade 2 0 3 3 7 9 36 42
Grade 5/6 0 0 3 3 6 61 27
Unaligned
Kindergarten 41 29 10 10 6 3 2
Grade 1 9 11 16 18 16 19 12
Grade 2 1 9 15 10 12 39 14
Grade 5/6 0 0 0 3 30 52 15
Source: Adapted from Understanding Person-Space-Map Relations:
Cartographic and Developmental Perspectives, by L. S. Liben and
R. M. Downs, 1993, Developmental Psychology, 29, p. 739752.
The Developmental Pathway to Map Understanding 231
Figure 6.13 Graphs show mean numbers correct, by grade, on the classroom person location and direction task under aligned
and unaligned conditions. Maps show composites of all responses to one item in one first-grade class under aligned ( left) and
unaligned (right) conditions. Open arrows indicates correct responses. Adapted from Understanding Person-Space-Map Rela-
tions: Cartographic and Developmental Perspectives, by L. S. Liben and R. M. Downs, 1993, Developmental Psychology, 29,
pp. 739752. Reprinted with permission.
shown oblique perspective drawings (Figure 6.3) and
asked to place arrow stickers on a contour map of the
same local region to show the vantage point of those
drawings. In research with high school students (Liben,
Carlson, Szechter, & Marrara, 1999; see Liben, 2001),
participants were shown a directional arrow pointing to a
place shown on one representation of an environment (a
plan map or oblique aerial photograph). They were then
asked to place a directional arrow on a second representa-
tion of the same environment (in a different scale and az-
imuth) so that it would point to the same environmental
location from the same general direction. The data from
these various tasks converge on the conclusion that un-
derstanding and coordinating viewing azimuths across
representations is challenging, even at older ages, with
striking individual differences evident at all ages tested.
The same general conclusion may be drawn from tasks
in which individuals must identify their own orientation
232 Education for Spatial Thinking
Figure 6.14 Composite of sticker locations by college stu-
dents asked to show their current location (which was at the
intersection of the two arrows) on a campus map (top). Graph
shows distribution of pointing directions for a single spinner
task item ( bottom). Adapted from Real-World Knowledge
through Real-World Maps: A Developmental Guide for Navi-
gating the Educational Terrain, by L. S. Liben, K. A. Kas-
tens, and L. M. Stevenson, 2002, Developmental Review, 22,
pp. 267322. Reprinted with permission.
on a map or to relate their own position in space to other
locations (i.e., the self-map-space relation discussed ear-
lier). Illustrative is research with college students who
were tested early in their first semester on campus (see
Liben, 2005; Liben, Kastens, et al., 2002). Students were
taken to a series of locations. At the first five locations,
they were given a campus map (modified slightly from
the campus map distributed to visitors and posted at var-
ious locations on campus) and asked to place an arrow
sticker on the map to show their location and the direc-
tion they were facing. At the next five locations, partici-
pants were given a map on which one building had been
marked and asked to point a spinner arrow to that build-
ing (not currently within sight from the participants lo-
cation).
Figure 6.14 (top) shows a composite map of the loca-
tion responses to one item. What is remarkable about the
distribution of responses is not only that so many of them
are incorrect, but also that so many of them are impossi-
ble if one interpreted the referential symbols even at a
basic level. For example, in the item used in this example,
the participant was positioned at a courtyard-like corner
of the building so that there was a wall to the partici-
pants left as well as straight ahead. There were also ad-
ditional buildings to the right and directly behind. Yet,
as evident in the figure, many participants placed their
stickers adjacent to a building that had no courtyard-like
right angle and that lacked other buildings nearby. Direc-
tional data showed the same kind of variability as the
location data. To illustrate, Figure 6.14 ( bottom) pres-
ents data from one of the spinner items. Similar to pat-
terns observed among children, some college students
were able to perform almost perfectly on both location
and direction tasks, whereas others erred dramatically
on every item.
Qualities of the Map User
Implicit in the preceding discussion of research related
to individuals understanding of maps are qualities of the
particular map user (depicted by the right arrow of Fig-
ure 6.8). One grouping variable that has been used ex-
plicitly throughout the discussion is chronological age (or
school grade), but from a developmental perspective, age
is more appropriately understood as a marker for more
differential levels of relevant cognitive development.
Some investigators have included direct assessments of
the cognitive concepts hypothesized to be relevant to
map understanding. Of interest is whether these assess-
ments predict to map performance better than age per se,
perhaps thereby accounting for the wide range of differ-
ences in performance observed within given age groups.
In our work, for example, we have assessed childrens
topological, projective, and Euclidean concepts by using
classic Piagetian tasks (see Liben & Downs, 1993). We
have made the argument that at the group level, there
should be relatively early success on map tasks that can
be solved by using landmark features because these theo-
retically call on developmentally early topological un-
derstanding. In contrast, there should be relatively later
Map Education: Illustrative Materials and Activities 233
success on tasks that require an understanding of, first,
viewing angle or azimuth or, second, scale, because
these theoretically call on, respectively, developmentally
more advanced projective and Euclidean concepts (Pi-
aget & Inhelder, 1956). The data at the individual level
should show that within a given age group, the children
who perform particularly well on tasks that draw on un-
derstanding viewing angle, azimuth, and scale should be
the children who are especially far along in their under-
standing of spatial concepts.
The empirical data were reasonably consistent with
the hypothesized links at the level of groups. For exam-
ple, better performance was elicited in location tasks on
items on or near unique landmarks that provided topo-
logical cues than on items in undifferentiated regions of
a room, neighborhood, or city that require metric under-
standing (Liben & Downs, 1993). The data were some-
what, but not strongly, consistent with the hypothesized
link at the individual level. That is, there were signifi-
cant correlations between childrens performance on the
mapping tasks and the Piagetian spatial tasks, a relation-
ship that held even after scores on a more general test of
spatial abilities were statistically removed. However,
the correlations were only moderate, and although chil-
dren who performed very well on the mapping tasks
were typically those who performed well on the Piaget-
ian spatial tasks (and the reverse), there were some chil-
dren whose performance was inconsistent with this
pattern. Of course, tasks used to assess spatial concepts
are not perfect, and participants may be differentially
motivated to apply the concepts that they have to any
given mapping task. Thus, additional research is needed
to further explore the relationship between performance
on general spatial tasks and performance on mapping
tasks, and to find ways to study the moment-by-moment
processing strategies used in solving mapping tasks.
Summary
The research discussed in this section of the chapter con-
verges on the conclusion that understanding of both repre-
sentational and geometric correspondences improves with
age. However, there is also ample evidence of striking indi-
vidual differences, with some children performing re-
markably well, and some adults performing remarkably
poorly. Far more research is needed to identify the factors
that are responsible for different levels of performance
across ages and individuals. Although we are far from un-
derstanding all components of map understanding that are
problematic, and why some components are especially
problematic for some individuals, we cannot postpone map
education until all these factors are understood. As argued
in the earlier section, Can Spatial Thinking Be Im-
proved? there is already considerable evidence that inter-
ventions can have positive effects on spatial thinking.
MAP EDUCATION: ILLUSTRATIVE
MATERIALS AND ACTIVITIES
In this section of the chapter, I turn to a discussion of in-
terventions addressed at enhancing students skill in un-
derstanding and using maps.
A Time and Place for Map Education
At a broad level of generalization, the prior section on
map understanding leads to the conclusion that, at the
group level, children of different ages bring different
concepts and knowledge to maps. At very young ages (in
the preschool years), children typically have some con-
cept of maps and some understanding of their function,
but their concepts and associated skills are limited.
They tend to make assumptions about shared qualities of
maps and their referents that may interfere with their
understanding of both the representational content (e.g.,
falsely presuming that red lines stand for red roads) and
the spatial content (e.g., falsely presuming that lines
cannot stand for roads because they are not fat enough
for two cars to go on). At somewhat older ages (during
the elementary school years), children come to recognize
that spatial representations can move from generic to
specific (e.g., as in the shift fromgeneric to specific rep-
resentations of their school; see Figure 6.12), they come
to understand the consequences of changing viewing
angle (again, see Figure 6.12), and they become increas-
ingly facile at understanding viewing azimuths (as in
their ability to handle unaligned maps; see Figure 6.13).
Although at still older ages ( late elementary and mid-
dle school) children routinely perform well on the kinds
of tasks that are challenging to younger children (see
Figure 6.13), even adults continue to evidence nontrivial
limitations in understanding and using maps. When ac-
tually out in a real (rather than laboratory) environment
and when actually using a real (rather than a simplified)
map, many adults are often confused about their current
location and the direction of target locations that are
represented on the map but physically beyond view (see
234 Education for Spatial Thinking
Figure 6.14). Furthermore, it is not only college students
participating in research studies who evidence confu-
sion. There are also dramatic examples from the every-
day world, such as a logger who was taken to court for
cutting down trees on the wrong land and who defended
himself by arguing, The way the map was shown to me
didnt help, as it should have been turned the other way
(Pair Awarded, 1989), and a case in which a Dutch
tourist was killed in an incident in which she and her
husband got lost and stopped to ask for directions in a
poor, crime-ridden Miami neighborhood. . . . As her
husband got out of their rental car with a map in hand,
[one of the men] fired a shot through the car window
(Skipp & Faiola, 1996). It is not only that adults have
difficulty using maps for navigation. Students in a pro-
fessional masters degree program in environmental pol-
icy made serious mistakes in interpreting climate
forecast maps that depicted the probability of various
precipitation data into the future (Ishikawa, Barnston,
Kastens, Louchouarn, & Ropelewski, 2005).
At least some confusions evident in adults are likely to
stem from incomplete, confusing, or misleading education
during early childhood, and thus it is valuable to begin
map education during the preschool years. In this context,
it is important to point out that the fact that our research
shows that preschoolers are confused about some aspects
of maps should not be taken to imply that map education is
inappropriate during these years. Even a theoretical posi-
tion such as Piagets, which posits that preschoolers lack
relevant projective and Euclidean concepts, does not
imply that instruction should be postponed until the child
acquires these concepts (an implication claimed by Blaut,
1997a, 1997b). Rather, it implies the importance of de-
signing developmentally appropriate curricula that take
these developmental trajectories into account (see Downs
& Liben, 1997; Liben & Downs, 1997, 2001).
The geography and map education experiences in
which I have participated have included working on var-
ious aspects of museum exhibits, television programs,
academic competitions, and curriculum design. Next, I
draw from some of these experiences to illustrate ways
that developmental theory and educational practice may
productively interact.
Locating Maps within a Broader Framework
Before turning to any specific educational intervention
designed to enhance childrens understanding of maps, it
is useful to remember that the overarching focus of this
chapter is on spatial thinking. The general argument I
have made is that spatial thinking is an important and
valuable way of guiding interactions with and thoughts
about the world. This includes the world not only in the
sense of continents and oceans of the planet Earth, as
might be studied in geography or geology, but also the
world in the sense of all its component physical and be-
havioral systems, as might be studied in fields such as
chemistry or economics. In parallel, I have argued that
maps are an important tool for spatial thinking, and thus
that educating children to understand and use maps is an
avenue for educating children to become better spatial
thinkers more generally. Thus, it is important to reiterate
that the general significance of maps in the context of this
chapter lies not their capacity to provide facts about the
geographic places that they represent, but in their capac-
ity to model the creation and use of graphic representa-
tions for representing and manipulating referents that
might otherwise be unseen, unknown, unreal, or untouch-
able. Thus, one broader framework into which maps must
be fit is the framework of spatial thinking.
But there is a second broader framework relevant to
maps, and that is how the information that is internal
to the map (e.g., the distance and angular relationships
among, say, three cities on a map) is related to the
broader external world. To operate in space (mentally or
physically), it is critical to have a frame of reference. Be-
cause there is a magnetic pole and needle technology that
permits the identification of magnetic north from any lo-
cation on Earth, north is a useful external anchor point to
which places and maps can be related. North is pervasive
(e.g., in language, in graphics, in weather directions, in
navigation), and it thus becomes a key concept for maps
and education. Especially important, theoretical and em-
pirical work in developmental psychology leads to the ex-
pectation that north will be a challenging concept to
teach. Given these factors, it is the topic that I focus on in
illustrating educational practice. I first describe some of
the ways that the concept of north has been covered in
others educational materials, then describe the way we
approached teaching the concept of north in our class-
room work and, finally, review the instructional approach
to north in the Where Are We? curriculum (Kastens,
2000), with which I have recently been working.
Characterizing Traditional Curricula
In addressing the concept of north, it is useful to begin
by considering the more general issue of how maps and
Map Education: Illustrative Materials and Activities 235
the external world are connected in mapping curricula.
In general, curriculum materials tend to focus on maps
as worlds in and of themselves, rather than on relation-
ships between what is represented in the map and exter-
nal reality (Liben, Kastens, et al., 2002). When they do
address map-reality relationships, the reality is typi-
cally very limited in scope. Thus, for example, mapping
curricula often begin by having children create maps of
their home or classroom and use these maps to teach the
importance of map elements, such as scale and keys.
They rarely, however, address the relationship between
the mapped space and some larger frame of reference,
for example, orienting the classroom map in relation to
regional landmarks, to distant physical features (e.g., a
mountain range), or to magnetic north. Mapping exer-
cises often ask children to create maps of imaginary
lands that are not positioned in relation to any earthly
frame of reference. When children are asked to use
maps for navigation, the exercise is typically entirely
representational. For example, children may be given a
worksheet that shows city blocks, symbolizes and labels
buildings such as school, church, and town hall, and
asked to draw the route to go from, say, Sallys house to
her school. Such tasks can be solved without regard for
links between the map and any referential reality.
One means of summarizing traditional mapping ma-
terials is by using a classification scheme that was devel-
oped to categorize research methods used to study
childrens emerging understanding of spatial place rep-
resentations (Liben, 1997a). Two of the methods, pro-
duction and comprehension methods, ask children to
relate representation and reality: in the former, by tak-
ing information from the reality and applying it to (or
creating) a representation, in the latter, by taking infor-
mation from the representation and applying it to the
real space. In representational correspondence methods,
children are asked to relate two or more representations,
but the task does not really require the child to link
either representation to the reality; the link is between
the two representations. In metarepresentational meth-
ods, children are asked to reflect on the purpose of rep-
resentations or their components or perhaps talk about a
representation-referent link, but only in the abstract.
This classification system was used to analyze map ma-
terials that were available in the Bank Street Bookstore
in New York City over a 2-year period (Kastens &
Liben, 2004). All materials that required some student
pencil-and-paper product and that were marketed for el-
ementary school ages were included in the analysis. In-
terestingly, and parallel to the way the research litera-
ture may be characterized (see Liben, Kastens, et al.,
2002), these educational materials showed an over-
whelming emphasis on representations per se. Produc-
tion and comprehension exercises were very rare.
Despite the general paucity of attention to the link
between mapped spaces and the larger environmental
framework, there has been considerable curricular at-
tention to the concept of north in educational materials.
Unfortunately, however, this attention is often mis-
guided. A book entitled How to Read a Highway Map
(Rhodes, 1970, p. 46), for example, explicitly tells chil-
dren, North is always at the top of the map. In a unit
entitled Orienting Ourselves in the Classroom, Rush-
doony (1988, Lesson 1.2, p. 6) instructs teachers to
place on the chalkboard a large chart that shows the
four cardinal (main) directions. The figure provided
shows a large cross with north at the top and with each
cardinal direction labeled. Teachers are told to explain
that there are four main directionsnorth, south, east,
and west. Have the class read the words aloud. Then put
the manila strips on the walls (one on each wallnorth
on the wall behind your desk). It is obviously impossi-
ble that every teacher using this curriculum will have a
desk in front of a north wall. As another example, in a
student workbook (Carratello & Carratello, 1990, p. 8),
the page labeled Do You Know Your Directions? ex-
plains that directions will make it easier to tell where
we are and where we would like to go. The page is il-
lustrated with a picture of a boy from the back, facing
the top of the page. Above his head appears NORTH is
at the top, just below his right hand is EAST is on the
right side, at his feet is written SOUTH is at the bot-
tom, and below his left hand appears WEST is on the
left side.
In summary, many materials designed to teach maps
that are used in school do little to link the child and map
to an external frame of reference. Further, there are not
only errors of omission. As the examples just given
show, there are also errors of commission. Curriculum
problems like these are among the reasons that children
may be challenged in trying to understand the concept of
a fixed external referent like magnetic north.
A Developmentally Motivated Approach to
Teaching North
Our approach to map education (Liben & Downs, 1986)
was an interdisciplinary one that attempted to bring
236 Education for Spatial Thinking
together ideas from both developmental psychology and
geography. In the process of teaching various lessons
that exposed children to a wide range of map forms and
functions, we included some instruction on cardinal di-
rections. We were aware that it was likely that at least
some of the children in the first- and second-grade
classes we worked with had been exposed to the kinds of
misleading information about north described earlier.
Given this background, we began by asking students to
close their eyes and point to north. As expected, com-
mon responses included pointing straight ahead and
straight up in the air.
When they opened their eyes, children were sur-
prised to see the variety of responses among their peers.
We then discussed the idea of magnetic north, and took
out a compass. Based on our knowledge of developmen-
tal research on egocentrism and the importance of ac-
tion in cognition, we invited students to come to the
front of the room, one at a time, so that they could see
the needle and could point to north (which in this class-
room was over childrens left shoulder). Although most
of the children seemed to be prepared to believe that
their original notion that north was straight ahead or
straight up was wrong, a few of the children were having
difficulty giving up their original beliefs. In one of the
second-grade classes, a boy became visibly upset and fi-
nally jumped out of his seat, walked over to the wall,
and pulled down the wall map to show everyone that in-
deed he was correct and north was pointing toward the
ceiling. Errors like these in each class provided us with
the opportunity to discuss the relationship between di-
rections in maps and in the real world. In the course of
doing so, we included maps in which north was not at the
top of the page.
We thought we had been successful in conveying to
children the need to use a referent outside their own
bodies to find north (e.g., the sun, a compass). We tested
our impression during a field trip that occurred a few
weeks following the original lesson on north. The stu-
dents were driven out to a recreational center by bus and
gathered inside one of the buildings for some additional
map work. Once again, we began by asking children to
close their eyes and point to north. We were anticipating
that they would either ask for a compass or say that they
could not tell. Instead, to our dismay, most of the stu-
dents simply pointed, quite confidently, over their left
shoulders. All we had succeeded in doing was to replace
one fixed body-centered belief (that north was straight
ahead or straight up) with another (that north was over
the left shoulder). Thus, although we were correct in an-
ticipating childrens likely confusions, we were not suc-
cessful in overcoming them.
Where Are We? Curriculum Attempts to
Overcome Misconceptions about North
The final example is drawn from the Where Are We?
(WAW?) curriculum (Kastens, 2000) targeted for sec-
ond- through fourth-grade children. Two major premises
of this curriculum are, first, that the links between real-
ity and map are at the core of understanding maps, and
second, that there are practical difficulties in providing
children with extensive reality-map experiences. Thus, a
key feature of WAW? is computer software designed to
provide simulated reality-map experience.
Specifically, and as illustrated by a screen from the
WAW? software shown in Figure 6.15, the software
shows two representations of a park simultaneously. One
is a plan map, and the other is an inset of a color video
that shows eye-level views recorded on walks through
the park. Users control the video that appears in the
inset by clicking on one of three arrows. Clicking on the
straight arrow starts the video clip to show what would
be seen as one continues walking straight ahead on the
path. Clicking on the left or right arrows leads to video
Figure 6.15 Annotated screen from Where Are We? in the
Exploring the Park mode. Source: From Where Are We?
by K. A. Kastens, 2000, Watertown, MA: Tom Snyder Pro-
ductions. Reprinted with permission from Real-World
Knowledge through Real-World Maps: A Developmental
Guide for Navigating the Educational Terrain, by L. S.
Liben, K. A. Kastens, and L. M. Stevenson, 2002, Develop-
mental Review, 22, pp. 267322.
Map Education: Illustrative Materials and Activities 237
TABLE 6.2 List of Lessons Included in the Where Are We?
Curriculum
1. Exploring Maps. Students examine a variety of paper maps and
discuss the uses of maps.
2. Birds-Eye View Mapping. Students draw a simple map of the
objects on their desks.
3. Map Symbols. Students use the key on the Where Are We?
poster map to identify objects on the map and to imagine what
is seen by someone standing at a particular location.
4. Introducing the Soft ware. Students learn how the software
works by using Exploring the Park mode.
5. Landmarks. The lesson introduces the value of landmarks in
map reading and navigation through guided use of the Are We
There Yet? mode.
6. Keeping Track of Where Youve Been. Students keep track of
their route in the Are We There Yet? mode and practice
returning to their starting point.
7. Planning a Route. Students plan a route to a destination and
anticipate what they should see along that route. Using the
Exploring the Park mode, students test their predictions and
verify their plan.
8. Map Scale. By contrasting the distance traveled in the Where
Are We? video with the distance the dot advances across the
map, students see the difference in size (scale) between the
map and the represented landscape. They use the map scale to
estimate sizes and distances in the Where Are We? scene and on
other maps.
9. The Compass Rose. Students use a compass rose in the
classroom and on the computer map to figure out the direction
someone is facing or moving.
10. Putting New Information on the Map. Students find some
features that are in the video but missing from the map, figure
out where these should be located on the map, and add the
appropriate symbols. This lesson models the use of maps by
geologists, ecologists, architects, town planners, and many
others who use maps as tools for organizing spatial information.
11. Lost! Using map symbols, landmarks, and compass directions,
students make observations about the landscape around them
to infer their location on the map. This lesson simulates the
situation where walkers or motorists realize they are lost , pull
the map out of a backpack or glove compartment , and use
visual clues in the surrounding terrain to figure out where they
are on the map.
12. Summing Up: Comparing Maps with the Real World. Students
demonstrate their understanding of the similarities and
differences between a map and the real world by completing a
table.
Source: Summarized from Where Are We? by K. A. Kastens, 2000,
Watertown, MA: Tom Snyder Productions.
clips showing, respectively, what would be seen if one
turned to the left or right.
The software operates in four modes. One, Explor-
ing the Park, orients children to the software, the
videotaped scenes, and the map. By clicking on one of
the arrows, the user sees the park on the video as if
walking or turning and, simultaneously, sees a red dot
with a directional arrow marker moving on the map. Be-
cause of the scale relation between the walk and repre-
sentation, a long walk in the videotape moves the red
dot only a short distance on the map. The explicit dis-
play of the red dot and orientation arrow is used consis-
tently only in this introductory mode. In a second mode,
Are We There Yet? the user is given a starting point
and orientation (indicated by the red dot and arrow) and
asked to reach a given target location by moving through
the space via arrow clicks. In Lost! the user is simply
dropped at some unknown location in the park and is
challenged to discover the location by moving around in
the park (via arrow clicks). When users believe they
have located themselves on the map, they click on the
hypothesized location and receive a message that says
either Sorry, try again, Youre close, or You got
it! Finally, in Add to the Map, users again move
through the (video) park via arrow clicks and watch for
certain objects (e.g., lampposts) that are in the real
(videotaped) world but not yet on the map. Between
clicks, the user drags symbols to the map to show the se-
lected objects locations. This mode is meant to parallel
the field mapping tasks that are common in many occu-
pations and disciplines (e.g., as when an ecologist
records distributions of vegetation data on a base map).
A list of the topics of the classroom lessons that com-
pose the WAW? curriculum is given in Table 6.2. Of par-
ticular interest for the current focus on north is the
two-session Lesson 9 (pp. 6673), entitled The Com-
pass Rose. Many aspects of the lesson are directly rele-
vant for the kinds of body-centered misunderstandings
that have been identified in the research discussed ear-
lier. The three overarching goals for the lesson are to
teach students to use a compass rose in conjunction
with a compass, have students differentiate between
North as a region and north as a direction, and show
students when to use north/south/east /west rather than
right / left.
It is informative to examine some of the specific rec-
ommended activities. Unlike the approach to north often
found in traditional curriculum materials described ear-
lier, much of the WAW? lesson is specifically aimed at re-
lating the childs immediate space and representation to
an external frame of reference. For example, after dis-
cussing the use of a compass or the suns path to establish
where north is, the teacher is asked to have a child put a
large paper compass rose on the floor matching its N
with the real north. Place a compass on top of the com-
pass rose to check that the norths are aligned. Signs with
cardinal directions are then posted, but unlike the work-
book described earlier, north does not automatically get
238 Education for Spatial Thinking
placed at the front of the room, but rather on the north
wall as determined by the compass.
As developmental research and theory would imply is
important, activities in the lesson are specifically de-
signed to help children differentiate bodily directional
referents (e.g., left and right) from external spatial ref-
erents (north). This approach is thus in sharp contrast to
the traditional curricula described earlier in which ac-
tivities and materials conflate, rather than distinguish,
bodily referents and external referents (e.g., erroneously
teaching that the childs right hand identifies east). In
WAW?, activities involve children following directions
to move a figurine around so that the child learns to dif-
ferentiate regions from directions (e.g., learning that
one can be heading, say, northeast even if one is in, say,
the southeast region of a state) and to differentiate
left /right from cardinal directions. If students are hav-
ing difficulty making these distinctions with the fig-
urines, teachers are led to use additional exercises that
address common misconceptions. These exercises are
particularly well grounded in developmental theory in-
sofar as they require children to move through the real
space using alternative referential systems. For exam-
ple, children are asked to divide up into two lines facing
each other, and then everyone is asked to turn to the left.
The two lines therefore end up facing in opposite direc-
tions. Students are then asked to return to their original
positions so that the lines again face one another. Stu-
dents are then instructed to face east. Now all students
face in the same direction. Activities such as these are
intended to have children come to appreciate the differ-
ence between egocentric, body-centered frameworks
and external, stable frames of reference.
The second session of the Compass Rose lesson in-
volves using the WAW? software, which provides contin-
ual information about compass heading as one walks
through the park. The map, however, remains in the
same orientation, thus giving children practice in using
unaligned maps, something that the research reviewed
earlier shows is typically difficult for children of this
age. In short, the theoretical foundations of WAW? are
similar to those that informed the classroom activities
used in our integrated research and teaching efforts
(Liben & Downs, 1986). The WAW? curriculum, how-
ever, is far more sustained and is thus likely to be more
effective than our own attempt to teach north. However,
evidence of such effectiveness must await additional
evaluation efforts currently under way (e.g., Kastens &
Liben, 2004).
Summary
In this section, I have described and discussed a number
of specific classroom materials and activities that are
related in some way to helping students to understand
the relationship between a representation and a reality. I
have focused on frame of reference because keeping
track of representations of spaces or objects in space de-
pends on remaining oriented in some way. An examina-
tion of the map education materials that are commonly
available suggests that many materials and lessons ig-
nore the connection between representations and reality
entirely, and at least some of them address the connec-
tion in ways that are seriously misleading. As our own
unsuccessful attempt to teach the concept of north
demonstrates, even being aware of childrens likely mis-
conceptions and even grounding a curriculum in devel-
opmental and cartographic principles does not ensure
success. The WAW? curriculum was enriched by what
had been learned in earlier work, but whether it will
prove to be adequate awaits evaluation data (see Liben,
Kastens, et al., 2002). There are, however, already a
number of general conclusions that can be drawn, as dis-
cussed in the next section of the chapter.
CONCLUSIONS AND QUESTIONS
In this chapter, I began with the argument that spatial
thinking plays an important role in a wide range of
educational, occupational, and everyday activities. I re-
viewed data showing that spatial thinking varies
markedly between groups (e.g., those defined by age
and sex) and within groups (i.e., individual differences),
and that these differences are linked to differential suc-
cess in both general and specialized curricula (e.g.,
mathematics, engineering). I described research show-
ing that interventions can enhance spatial performance
and associated educational outcomes across the curricu-
lum. Given the conclusion that skilled spatial thinking is
important but does not develop to high levels automati-
cally and universally, I considered educational routes
that might be used to facilitate spatial thinking. For both
practical and conceptual reasons, the approach recom-
mended (consistent with the recommendation of the re-
port Learning to Think Spatially; NRC, 2005) was to
infuse spatial education within courses already taught in
our schools. I identified geography as one potential tar-
get for infusion because it places spatial reasoning at its
Conclusions and Questions 239
disciplinary core and because it routinely includes les-
sons on maps (which are prototypical exemplars of spa-
tial thinking). As currently configured, however, map
lessons are often geared simply to helping children use
maps to obtain specific factual information (e.g., to find
state capitals, to identify which cities are near which
rivers, to find the locations of countries in the news).
Map education has the potential to offer much more.
The myriad map forms and functions described earlier
suggest some of the ways that maps draw on and may
thereby facilitate more general spatial and representa-
tional skills. I reviewed research showing the develop-
mental emergence of map understanding and sampled
from educational curricula designed to teach the con-
cept of north.
In this final section, I revisit my opening paragraph,
in which I noted that the material in this chapter is rele-
vant to three audiences. The first is composed of tradi-
tional cognitive-developmental psychologists whose
primary interests are in basic research on the develop-
ment of spatial cognition. The second includes applied
developmental psychologists who aspire to move their
work from the laboratories of the academy to the lives of
children in the real world. The third encompasses educa-
tors who design or provide educational experiences for
children. I highlight some key points relevant to each au-
dience and close by commenting on the need to consider
the challenges and opportunities presented by the chang-
ing technological environment.
Scholars of the Development of Spatial Cognition
For those readers whose primary interest is in studying
the development of spatial cognition, the key lessons
from this chapter largely concern the existence and im-
plications of variability. First, the work reviewed here
highlights variability among individuals. When one is
describing children in the abstract, it is relatively simple
to place the primary focus on the commonalities of chil-
dren within age groups and the distinctions between
children across age groups. However, when one takes
these abstract descriptions into real classrooms with
real children trying to master real lessons, it is the vari-
ability rather than the similarity among children that is
striking. Data show variability not only with respect to
levels of performance, but often also with respect to the
cognitive strategies that underlie performance. Differ-
ences among individuals with respect to the rates at
which they pass through developmental milestones or
with respect to the end points they ultimately reach pro-
vide potential windows into developmental processes.
That is, detailed observation of natural correlates of dif-
ferent developmental rates and outcomes (e.g., different
parental behaviors, different toy play) may illuminate
microgenetic changes in spatial development, and, when
possible, these correlates may be manipulated experi-
mentally to test their impact on later spatial thinking.
Thus, one conclusion from the work described through-
out this chapter is that even as there are age progressions
in spatial development, there are also individual and
group differences in spatial development, differences
that imply the need for observational and experimental
research that goes beyond descriptions of age-linked dif-
ferences in spatial thinking.
Second, the work reviewed in this chapter highlights
variability in performance across tasks. There is a
temptation for developmental psychologists who work
primarily within the walls of the academy to assume that
the most (or perhaps even the only) important questions
about cognitive functioning are those that address the
emergence of some cognitive skill. From this perspec-
tive, for example, it is particularly important to find that
young infants encode metric information about objects
locations because these findings appear to discredit
the Piagetian proposition that metric concepts do not
emerge until middle or late childhood. However, when
developmental psychologists look outside the laboratory
and turn to the kinds of educational, occupational, and
daily tasks discussed in earlier sections of this chapter,
they confront fascinating and nontrivial questions con-
cerning the ways cognitive competencies, task demands,
and environmental contexts interact to facilitate or im-
pede success. It is arguably as intriguing to study the
range of conditions under which an underlying compe-
tency can be activated and applied as it is to study the
conditions under which an underlying competency
emerges in the first place. At a more general level, this
conclusion is a reminder of why it is better to avoid con-
ceptualizing developmental phenomena as dichotomies
in which children either do or do not have some compe-
tency (see Liben, 1997b; Overton, 1998).
Applied Developmental Psychologists
For those readers whose primary interest is in taking the-
oretical work from developmental psychology and apply-
ing it to the world of education, the key lessons from this
chapter largely concern challenges of communication and
240 Education for Spatial Thinking
implementation of concepts and the associated need for
appropriate assessment. That is, although there are many
important connections between what has been learned in
cognitive-developmental research and a wide range of ed-
ucational goals, it is often difficult to bridge the gap be-
tween theory and application and to know when one has
succeeded in doing so. One striking illustration described
earlier was our own failed attempt to teach children the
concept of north (Liben & Downs, 2001). Despite our
theoretical understanding of childrens potential overre-
liance on body-centered frames of reference, we provided
a classroom lesson that led some children to replace their
erroneous belief that north was invariably straight ahead
with the erroneous belief that north was invariably over
their left shoulder.
This illustration carries with it another key lesson:
the importance of including assessments to monitor
communicative and instructional success. In the previ-
ous example, had we not assessed childrens understand-
ing of north in an entirely new context during a field
trip, we would have been unaware of continued misun-
derstandings. It is critical that assessments require stu-
dents to apply their knowledge in new ways and in new
contexts rather than to repeat information in exactly the
same way and context in which it was initially presented.
A classic example of the importance of this caveat in the
domain of spatial thinking comes from the work of Vos-
naidou and Brewer (1992). They found that elementary
school children were extremely proficient in responding
to questions about Earth when the questions tapped in-
formation as taught. Thus, when asked about the shape
of Earth, almost all children were able to answer cor-
rectly by responding verbally that Earth is round or
spherical and by drawing a round shape. When asked
novel questions (e.g., what would happen if one were to
keep walking and walking and walking), responses re-
vealed that many children were actually working from
faulty mental models (e.g., a pancake rather than spheri-
cal model of Earth).
It is particularly important that assessments tap
something other than rote learning or near transfer when
the lesson is intended to enhance some general under-
standing or skill. For example, in the context of the over-
arching goal of educating spatial thinkers, lessons about
north are aimed not only at teaching cardinal directions
per se, but also at teaching the use of stable distal
frames of reference even in the face of changing proxi-
mal referents. Thus, assessments of instructional suc-
cess must go beyond testing whether children know that
west is to their left and east is to their right under the
imposed condition (or incorrect assumption) that they
are facing north.
The communicative challenges encountered when
bridging theory to practice and the need to monitor un-
derstanding applies not only when trying to teach chil-
dren directly, but also when trying to convey to other
professionals the information that they need to design
educational materials. One illustration comes from a
project mentioned earlier in which we (Liben & Downs,
1994, 2001) consulted with Childrens Television Work-
shop as they planned to introduce geography to Sesame
Street. Based on our knowledge that young children
would be likely to have difficulty understanding repre-
sentations that depict referents from unfamiliar vantage
points, we suggested showing objects or vistas from
views other than the prototypical childs-eye view. In
particular, we suggested using birds-eye views (perhaps
Big Birds-eye views) and worms-eye views. We had in-
tended that our suggestion be translated into video clips
of the same objects or vistas viewed from straight ahead
(childs-eye views), from above ( birds-eye views), and
from below (worms-eye views).
Our suggestion for birds-eye views was cleverly im-
plemented. In one clip, for example, the school play-
ground was shown, sequentially, from a childs-eye view
of what would be seen while walking onto the play-
ground, then from a tree top, and then from a distant
crane. Playground objects (e.g., the basketball hoop)
were then shown being transformed into plan-map sym-
bols that were located on a map. The implementation of
our suggestion for a worms-eye view was less success-
ful. We were surprised to find that the worm-related ge-
ography video clip showed two worms racing across the
United States ( by crawling on a small-scale map of the
United States) as their progress was narrated (e.g.,
They are arriving in Chicago! They are crossing the
Rockies!). Not only did this video clip fail to offer chil-
dren the chance to view the same referent from varying
vantage points, but it conflated representational and ref-
erential space and symbols. For example, the worms
simply moved across the paper without regard to
whether they followed roads, crawled over lakes, and so
on, and clearly the scale relation between movement on
the map and travel through the referent country was
grossly misleading. This example serves as a reminder
of the importance of continually monitoring understand-
Conclusions and Questions 241
ing of the theoreticians intended message, whether the
message is directed to students or to the professionals
designing materials to teach them.
Educators
For readers whose primary interest is in educating chil-
dren, either directly (e.g., teachers or parents) or indi-
rectly (e.g., faculty members in colleges of education or
members of school boards), the central messages of this
chapter are that spatial thinking is important and perva-
sive, that many children do not develop strong spatial
thinking skills in their natural home and school environ-
ments, and, thus, that explicit spatial education is
needed. Although the relevant research base is some-
what restricted, those data that are available support the
conclusion that educational interventions can be suc-
cessful in enhancing at least some spatial skills, and that
these improvements have positive consequences for at
least some broader educational goals. Illustrative are
studies cited earlier by Pallrand and Seeber (1984)
showing that college students given various kinds of spa-
tial experiences (e.g., drawing outdoor scenes, instruc-
tion in geometry) received higher scores on tests of
visual skills and higher grades in physics, and by Casey
et al. (1997, 2001) showing significant relationships be-
tween spatial skills and mathematics motivation and
performance.
For an audience of educators, however, there are
some extremely important questions that remain unan-
swered and that must be addressed in future work. One
group of questions is pedagogical. First, from an in-
structional perspective, there remains the practical
question of how to implement the recommendation to in-
fuse spatial education into existing school subjects. It
will be necessary to catalogue spatial concepts and
skills (see NRC, 2005), identify individual courses that
are relevant at each grade level, select concepts within
those courses that could be infused with spatial educa-
tion, and design specific materials and activities that
can simultaneously facilitate spatial thinking and de-
liver specific course content.
Undoubtedly, these steps are easier to list than to fol-
low. Again, I draw from our own research to illustrate
this point. In one study (Liben & Szechter, 2002), we
hypothesized that childrens understanding of vantage
points might be facilitated by digital photography les-
sons. Our reasoning was that digital photography would
repeatedly expose children to the representational con-
sequences of changes in viewing position. For the exper-
imental condition, adult research assistants were asked
to take individual children (8 to 10 years old) on a cam-
pus walk while children took photographs of their own
choosing. These adults were asked to guide the childs
photographic experience in a way that would emphasize
the role of vantage point. However, pilot testing revealed
that research assistants found it exceedingly difficult to
devise, spontaneously, experiences that would serve this
purpose. For the investigation itself, we therefore sub-
stituted a method in which photographic requests were
scripted (e.g., every child was asked to take a photo-
graph of a lion sculpture so that only one of two paws
would be visible in the image). For the current discus-
sion, what is relevant is the observation that adults do
not necessarily find it easy to identify opportunities for
spatial education.
Another line of evidence leading to the same conclu-
sion comes from a study (Szechter & Liben, 2004) in
which parents were given a picture book that was based
on a spatially challenging concept (each page progres-
sively zoomed away from the initial scene). When asked
to read the book to their preschool child, some parents at-
tempted to explain the spatial premise of the book in
multiple and creative ways. Others, however, entirely ig-
nored the spatial challenge of zooming and instead sim-
ply labeled individual objects depicted in the book. The
examples from both studies suggest that many adults
find it difficult to recognize and use potential opportuni-
ties to encourage spatial thinking, a difficulty that must
be anticipated among classroom teachers as well. Ide-
ally, professional development (e.g., in-service work-
shops on spatial education) might help to foster these
skills, but at a minimum, curriculum development would
need to involve collaboration between those who have ex-
pertise in teaching the specific course content and those
who have expertise in developmental spatial cognition.
Apart from the need to identify concrete opportuni-
ties to teach spatial thinking within specific courses,
future work must address other general pedagogical
questions. One question is whether teachers should
make the spatial components of their classes explicit.
For example, would it suffice to have children use maps
that show the same referent space from many different
viewing distances, angles, and azimuths, or would it be
necessary for children to learn metacognitive for-
malisms (e.g., the cartographic eye shown in Figure 6.1)
242 Education for Spatial Thinking
and use these to analyze individual maps? Another ques-
tion is whether teachers should link spatial instruction
across domains. For example, should teachers be facili-
tating childrens use of spatial thinking within the con-
fines of individual courses (e.g., within art, geography,
and biology), or should teachers guide children to see
common spatial operations and representations across
disciplines (e.g., highlighting the use of coordinate axes
across disciplines)?
In addition to questions about how to implement the
curricular recommendations, there are also questions
about how to evaluate the effectiveness of whatever
programs are implemented. The core claimof this chap-
ter is that infused spatial education will enhance spatial
thinking skills, and that these, in turn, will facilitate
success in problemsolving in a wide range of school, oc-
cupational, and life contexts. Thus, evaluation must
address both categories of outcomes. The first, for ex-
ample, could be assessed by examining childrens per-
formance on standardized tests of spatial skills (e.g.,
solving mental rotation tasks or linking two- and three-
dimensional representations); the second could be
assessed by testing childrens ability to master novel
problems in educational, daily, or occupational settings
(e.g., interpreting mineral crystal structure in a geology
course, assembling furniture from a manufacturers
graphic instructions, or reading an architectural blue-
print).
Before leaving the topic of assessment, it is also im-
portant to acknowledge that spatial assessment is criti-
cal not merely as a means of curriculum evaluation, but
also as a marker of, and an influence on, the judged im-
portance of the domain. This statement reflects the
common adage We assess what we value and we value
what we assess. In the contemporary educational era
defined by the No Child Left Behind [NCLB] legislation
(U.S. Department of Education, 2002), it is particularly
clear that a decision about what is assessed is a decision
about what is taught. As childrens performance on En-
glish and math assessments has become the criterion by
which not only children, but also teachers, schools, and
districts are judged, the classroom time devoted to En-
glish and math has grown, while the time devoted to
other curricula (e.g., social studies, languages, and the
arts) has been reduced (e.g., see Goldsmith, 2003). It is
possible that the recent addition of science to NCLB as-
sessments may provide an opening for intentional and
focused spatial education given that so much of science
draws on spatial skills (see NRC, 2005).
It should be obvious that it would take significant
human and financial capital to insert specific spatial
goals into the implementation of NCLB, to answer the
pedagogical and evaluation questions raised in this
chapter, and to develop, implement, and sustain spatial
education programs themselves. The justification for
those resources is equally obvious: We need only join
Monsieur Jourdain in contemplating how we operate in
our daily lives. Spatial thinking, like verbal and mathe-
matical thinking, is central to our intellectual world, and
it deserves to be central to our educational world as well.
Evolving Questions in Evolving Environments
In closing, it is important to note that just as individual
children change over time, so, too, the environment
that surrounds them changes over time. Changes are par-
ticularly rapid in the representational environment.
Although societies have long had spatial-graphic repre-
sentations such as maps and charts (Harvey, 1980; Tver-
sky, 2001), it is only during recent decades that we have
had the representational technology to build and rotate
images (e.g., computer-assisted design [CAD] soft-
ware), combine data from multiple geo-referenced data-
bases (e.g., geographic information systems), image
internal organs and workings of the human body (e.g.,
computer-assisted tomography scans), and identify
positions within meters on Earths surface (e.g., global
positioning systems), to name only a subset of the bur-
geoning technology. Indeed, the twenty-first century has
been labeled The Spatial Century (Gould, 1999).
These changes raise fascinating questions about de-
velopment and education. In some ways, technologies
like these place new spatial demands on users (e.g., an
image of a cross section of the brain requires the sur-
geon to understand where the cross section fits into the
patients head), but in other ways, they may reduce spa-
tial demands (e.g., a car navigation system allows the
driver to know whether to turn right or left even without
attending to the self-map-space relations shown in Fig-
ure 6.10). Thus, just as people have off-loaded spelling
functions from their long-term memory to their word
processing programs and their multiplication tables to
their calculators, it may be that people will off-load
mental rotation to their CAD programs and wayfinding
to their in-car navigation systems. Much research will
be needed to discover which new technologies serve to
exercise and hence foster childrens spatial skills and
which new technologies serve to take over and hence di-
References 243
minish childrens spatial skills. What this research is
likely to reveal is that, as with most tools, a given tech-
nology can be used profitably or badly. The challenge
for educators will be to find ways to achieve the former
rather than the latter. Although it is impossible to pre-
dict precisely where new technologies will lead and the
effects they will have on human cognition, it is safe to
predict that they will require users who are facile in
spatial as well as verbal thinking. The traditions of
developmental psychology must be combined with the
traditions of education to prepare spatial thinkers who
can meet the challenges and opportunities of our evolv-
ing world.
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248
CHAPTER 7
Character Education
DANIEL K. LAPSLEY and DARCIA NARVAEZ
HOW IS CHARACTER DEFINED? 250
The Problem with Habits 250
The Problem with Traits 251
The Problem with Virtues 253
PHILOSOPHICAL CONSIDERATIONS 255
Bag of Virtues and Foundations 255
Character and Virtue Ethics 257
EDUCATIONAL CONSIDERATIONS 258
Broad Character Education 258
Direct and Indirect Methods 260
Mimesis and Transformation 261
Oratorical and Philosophical Traditions 261
Historical Lessons 262
NEW APPROACHES TO CHARACTER
PSYCHOLOGY 264
Identity, Exemplars, and the Moral Self 264
Models of Personality Psychology 267
APPROACHES TO CHARACTER EDUCATION 269
Eleven Principles of Effective Character
Education 269
Caring School Communities 272
Service Learning and Community Service 275
Positive Youth Development 276
Social-Emotional Learning 279
Character and Higher Education 279
Character and Professional Education 281
A CASE STUDY: INTEGRATIVE
ETHICAL EDUCATION 281
Character as Expertise Development 282
Pedagogy for Cultivating Character
Expertise 282
Self-Regulation for Sustainability 283
An Implementation of IEE: The
Community Voices and Character
Education Project 283
ISSUES OF IMPLEMENTATION 285
OPEN QUESTIONS AND FUTURE
DIRECTIONS 287
REFERENCES 289
Character education is both popular and controversial.
In this chapter, a psychological approach to understand-
ing its central constructs is proposed. We review
philosophical conceptions of virtues and conclude that
character education cannot be distinguished from rival
approaches on the basis of a distinctive ethical theory.
We review several educational issues, such as the man-
ner in which the case is made for character education,
the implications of broad conceptions of the field,
whether character education is best defined by treat-
ments or outcomes, and whether character education is
We express our appreciation to the following colleagues, who
read and commented on previous versions of this chapter:
Jack Benninga, Jerrell Cassady, Kathryn Fletcher, Lisa Huff-
man, Jim Leming, Tom Lickona, Kristie Speirs Neumeister,
Sharon Paulson, Ben Spiecker, Jan Steutel, Larry Walker, and
Marilyn Watson.
best pursued with direct or indirect pedagogies, a debate
that is placed into historical context. We note that char-
acter education requires robust models of character psy-
chology and review several new approaches that show
promise. Six general approaches to character education
are then considered. Integrative Ethical Education is de-
scribed as a case study to illustrate theoretical, curricu-
lar, and implementation issues. We summarize issues of
implementation that are challenges to research and prac-
tice. We conclude with several challenges to character
education, chief of which is the need to find a distinc-
tive orientation in the context of positive youth develop-
ment. Problem-free is not fully prepared, but fully
prepared is not morally adept.
The moral formation of children is one of the founda-
tional goals of socialization. The ambitions that most
parents have for their children naturally include the de-
velopment of important moral dispositions. Most parents
Character Education 249
want to raise children to become persons of a certain
kind, persons who possess traits that are desirable and
praiseworthy, whose personalities are imbued with a
strong ethical compass. Moreover, other socialization
agents and institutions share this goal. The development
of moral character is considered a traditional goal of
formal education. It is a justification for the work of
youth organizations, clubs, and athletic teams. It is the
object of homily and religious exhortation. It shows up
in presidential speeches. It has preoccupied writers, ed-
ucators, curriculum experts, and cultural scolds. The
number of titles published on character and its role in
private and public life has increased dramatically over
past decades. So have curricula for teaching the virtues
in both schools and homes. Several prominent founda-
tions have thrown their resources behind the cause, and
professional meetings dedicated to character education
are marked by significant commitment, energy, and fer-
vor. In 2003 a new periodical, the Journal of Research in
Character Education, was launched to bring focus to
scholarly inquiry.
Yet, for all the apparent consensus about the need to
raise children of strong moral character, and for all the
professional attention devoted to the cause, it is a strik-
ing fact that character education occupies contested
ground in American society. Indeed, the issues that sur-
round character education are riven with such partisan
rivalry that the very terms of reference seem to function
like code words that betray certain ideological and
political commitments. Whether one is for or against the
character education movement is presumably a signal of
whether one is a liberal or a conservative, whether one
is sympathetic toward traditional or progressive trends
in education, whether one thinks the moral life is more a
matter of cultivating excellence than submitting to obli-
gation or whether moral evaluation is more about agents
than about acts, or whether one prefers the ethics of
Aristotle and classical philosophy to that of Kant and the
Enlightenment Project.
This ideological division sometimes surfaces as a
technical argument about pedagogy, for example,
whether one should endorse direct or indirect methods
of instruction. It shows up in how one conceives funda-
mental questions concerning, for example, the source of
our moral values or the epistemological status of our
moral claims. It shows up in our understanding of the
very goals and purposes of education in liberal demo-
cratic polities and in our understanding of what an eth-
ical life consists of: what it means to be a moral agent,
to possess virtue, and to live well the life that is good
for one to live. It shows up, too, in the sort of develop-
mental literatures, constructs, and metaphors that one
finds compelling.
There is a certain value, of course, in casting large,
fundamental, and deeply felt perspectives into such
stark relief. It often is useful to draw sharp boundaries
around contesting points of view to discern better their
strengths and weaknesses. Yet Dewey (1938) warned of
the folly of construing educational options in terms of
either/or. In so doing, he argued, one runs the danger
of advancing ones view only in reaction against the
rival, which means that ones vision is controlled unwit-
tingly by that which one struggles against. There is al-
ways the danger in a new movement, he writes, that in
rejecting the aims and methods of that which it would
supplant, it may develop its principles negatively rather
than positively and constructively (p. 20), with the re-
sult that it fails thereby to address a comprehensive,
constructive survey of actual needs, problems and possi-
bilities (p. 8).
In this chapter, we review the literature on character
education but in a way that avoids, we hope, the dan-
gers of either/or. It is necessary, of course, to sketch
the contours of the great debates that have character-
ized this field. Fortunately, however, there has emerged
in recent years a literature that has attempted to bridge
the conceptual and ideological divide (e.g., Benninga,
1991a, 1991b; Berkowitz & Oser, 1985; Goodman &
Lesnick, 2001; Nucci, 1989; Ryan & Lickona, 1992), or
at least to face it squarely. Our search is for the via
media that provides, in Deweys words, the compre-
hensive, constructive survey of actual needs, problems
and possibilities.
We do not approach our task in complete neutrality.
Our own view is that character education would profit
from advances in other domains of psychological sci-
ence (Lapsley & Narvaez, 2005). Indeed, character is a
concept with little theoretical meaning in contemporary
psychology, although it has been the source of ethical re-
flection since antiquity. An approach to character edu-
cation that is deeply psychologized would look for
insights about moral functioning in contemporary litera-
tures of cognitive and developmental science, in the
literatures of motivation, social cognition, and person-
ality. Researchers in these areas rarely draw out the im-
plications of their work for understanding the moral
dimensions of personality and its formation. Yet it is our
contention that a considered understanding of what is
250 Character Education
required for effective character education will be forth-
coming only when there emerges a robust character psy-
chology that is deeply informed by advances in
developmental, cognitive, and personality research.
Moreover, effective character education will require
deep integration with the educational psychology litera-
tures that constitute the knowledge base for instruc-
tional best practice. In short, character education must
be compatible with our best insights about psychological
functioning; character education must be compatible
with our best insights about teaching and learning (Lap-
sley & Power, 2005; Narvaez, 2005a).
In the next section, we take up important prelimi-
nary issues that establish the context for our review.
First, we attempt to understand the various ways char-
acter has been conceptualized. Second, we discuss what
is at stake with these different conceptualizations for
the various theoretical, philosophical, and educational
perspectives that have taken up positions on the ques-
tion of moral character. Third, we attempt to place this
discussion in a historical context. As we will see, there
is an enduring quality to much of the debate around
character education. Fourth, we review recent research
on moral personality that could serve as a basis for an
integrated psychology of character. Following this dis-
cussion, we review promising character education
strategies, describe an integrative approach to ethical
education, discuss various implementation issues that
are common to character education, and outline possi-
ble futures for the field.
HOW IS CHARACTER DEFINED?
Character is derived from a Greek word that means to
mark, as on an engraving. Ones character is an indeli-
ble mark of consistency and predictability. It denotes en-
during dispositional tendencies in behavior. It points to
something deeply rooted in personality, to its organizing
principle that integrates behavior, attitudes, and values.
There have been numerous attempts to define character
more precisely. It is a body of active tendencies and in-
terests that makes one open, ready, warm to certain
aims and callous, cold, blind to others (Dewey & Tufts,
1910, p. 256). It is made up of a set of dispositions and
habits that patterns our actions in a relatively fixed
way (Nicgorski & Ellrod, 1992, p. 143). It refers to the
good traits that are on regular display (Wynne & Ryan,
1997). Character is an individuals general approach to
the dilemmas and responsibilities of social life, a re-
sponsiveness to the world that is supported by emotional
reactions to the distress of others, the acquisition of
prosocial skills, knowledge of social conventions and
construction of personal values (Hay, Castle, Stimson,
& Davies, 1995, p. 24). It includes the capacity for self-
discipline and empathy (Etzioni, 1993; 1996). It allows
ethical agents, as Baumrind (1999, p. 3) put it, to plan
their actions and implement their plans, to examine and
choose among options, to eschew certain actions in
favor of others, and to structure their lives by adopting
congenial habits, attitudes and rules of conduct.
As one can see, defining character is no straightfor-
ward matter. Still, one can point to habits, traits, and
virtues as three concepts that are foundational to most
traditional accounts of moral character. These concepts
are interdependent and mutually implicative. Moral
character, on this view, is a manifestation of certain
personality traits called virtues that dispose one to ha-
bitual courses of action. Habits and traits carry a heavy
semantic load in the history of psychology that compli-
cates their being used in the context of character educa-
tion with much conceptual clarity. Virtue is a notion
derived from ethics but has very little traction in psy-
chological science unless it is translated into terms such
as habits and traits that are themselves larded with
conceptual implications that are controversial.
The Problem with Habits
According to a traditional view, a habit is a disposition
to respond to a situation in a certain way. Repeating a
behavior or set of procedures over the course of social-
ization develops this disposition. But not only does right
behavior serve to establish habits; they are its conse-
quence as well. Persons of good character behave well
without much temptation to do otherwise (W. J. Ben-
nett, 1980), nor is their right behavior a matter of much
conscious deliberation: They are good by force of
habit (Ryan & Lickona, 1992, p. 20). Habits are some-
times used as synonyms for virtues and vices, as in the
claim that character is the composite of our good
habits, or virtues, and our bad habits, or vices (Ryan &
Bohlin, 1999, p. 9), and habits also stand in for the dis-
positional (or trait ) qualities of character.
The appeal for character educators of the role of habits
in the moral life has important classical sources. In Book
How Is Character Defined? 251
II of the Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle (350/1985) takes
up the nature and definition of virtues. He argues that
moral virtue is not a natural part of the human endow-
ment but must come about as a result of habituation. We
acquire virtues, on this account, by exercising them. We
learn what virtue requires by acting virtuously. No one
has the prospect of becoming good unless one practices
the good. This would not be unlike the acquisition of skill
in the arts or in crafts. Just as individuals become
builders by building and harp players by playing the
harp, so also, then, we become just by doing just actions,
temperate by doing temperate actions, brave by doing
brave actions ( l. 1103b).
According to Steutel and Spiecker (2004; Narvaez &
Lapsley, 2005), the Aristotelian notion of habituation is
best understood as learning by doing with regular and
consistent practice under the guidance and authority of
a virtuous tutor. This is not unlike the cultivation of
skills through coached practice, although the affinity
of skills and virtues is controversial (Peters, 1981; Ryle,
1972). The habits that result from Aristotelian habitua-
tion are permanent or settled dispositions to do certain
kinds of things on a regular basis but automatically,
without reflective choice, deliberation, or planning
(Steutel & Spiecker, 2004). In our view, there is a way of
understanding Aristotelian habits that is completely
compatible with contemporary models of social cogni-
tion and cognitive science, including the requirement of
automaticity (Lapsley & Narvaez, 2004). For example,
Aristotelian habituation can be understood by reference
to developing expertise and skill development, notions
that underwrite an integrative approach to ethical edu-
cation that we discuss later (Narvaez, 2005a).
However, retaining the language of habits comes at a
cost. When the notion of habits is invoked in the present
context, what comes to mind is not classical ethical the-
ory but a certain strand of behavioral learning theory
whose core epistemological assumptions have long been
challenged. It is linked with an epistemology that lo-
cates the developmental dynamic solely in the environ-
ment and not with the active child. It is linked with a
mechanistic worldview that understands the person to
be reactive, passive in his or her own development, and
shaped by external contingencies arranged by others. It
suggests that learning takes place from the outside in,
where learning is the acquisition of a repertoire of con-
ditioned responseshabit family hierarchiesthat take
little notice of the childs own initiative in transforming
the learning environment in constructive acts of cogni-
tive mediation.
Hence, an unvarnished behavioral account of habits is
belied by contemporary models of developmental sci-
ence that emphasize the cognitive-constructive activity
of the developing child, who is in dynamic interaction
with changing ecological contexts across the life course.
Consequently, when the notion of habits is invoked to ac-
count for moral character, it seems at odds with what is
known about developmental processes and constructivist
best practice in education (Kohn, 1997). Although in-
voking habits seems to keep faith with a certain under-
standing of character in the classical sources, it also has
made it more difficult for educators and researchers who
reject the behaviorist paradigm to rally around the cause
of character education with much enthusiasm (Nucci,
2001). This is unfortunate, in our view, because Aris-
totelian habits are not coterminous with the habits of
behavioral theory. Aristotelian habituation is not coter-
minous with behavioral laws of learning that use the
same term. Aristotelian perspectives contribute much of
value to our current understanding of character and its
formation, although an understanding adequate for psy-
chological analysis will require translation into contem-
porary models of developmental and cognitive science.
The Problem with Traits
The language of traits also presents a terminological
challenge. The notion that the dispositional features of
character are carried by a set of personality traits
called virtues is both deeply entrenched and controver-
sial. In one sense, there is something completely obvi-
ous about trait language, at least in common parlance.
Human personality is marked by important continu-
ities. We are disposed to reach certain cognitive inter-
pretations and judgments of events and to experience
certain affective and behavioral responses in ways that
are predictable and consistent, and these dispositional
patterns we designate with the language of traits. We
use trait terms to pick out the dispositional tendencies
that serve as the basis for charting individual differ-
ences. Moreover, our differential valuation of these
trait differences provides the basis for moral evaluation
of persons. Some displays of individual differences war-
rant praise and encouragement, and we designate them
virtues; others warrant condemnation and admonish-
ment, and we designate those vices.
252 Character Education
This view of traits typically comes with two addi-
tional assumptions. One is that traits denote stable be-
havioral patterns that are evident across situations.
Another is that traits coalesce as a unity within the per-
son of moral or vicious character. Both assumptions are
problematic. The first follows from a traditional under-
standing that traits-of-character generate dispositional
tendencies that are on regular display. They are adhe-
sive, deeply constitutional aspects of our personality, el-
ements that are engraved on our essence (Ryan &
Bohlin, 1999, p. 10) that bid us to respond to situations
in ways typical of our character. Ryan and Bohlins ex-
ample of character is instructive:
If we have the virtue of honesty, for example, when we
find someones wallet on the pavement, we are character-
istically disposed to track down its owner and return it. If
we possess the bad habit, or vice, of dishonesty, again our
path is clear: we pick it up, look to the right and left, and
head for Tower Records or the Gap. (p. 9)
This example illustrates what we take to be the received
view: Dispositions are habits; some habits are good and
carry the honorific title virtues, other habits are bad
and are designated vices; and habit possession clears the
path to predictable and characteristic action. Indeed, a
dispositional understanding of traits seems part of our
folk theory of human personality and would seem to
translate into a straightforward goal for character edu-
cation: See to it that children come to possess the virtues
as demonstrable traits in their personality; see to it that
children come to possess good habits.
Yet, to say that moral dispositions coalesce in individ-
uals as traits (or even as habits) strikes many
researchers as a peculiar thing to say. Indeed, in person-
ality research, the nomothetic trait approach has not
fared well. This is because the cross-situational general-
ity and consistency of trait behavior has not been demon-
strated empirically, nor do trait models have much to say
about how dispositions are affected by situational vari-
ability. As Mischel (1968, p. 177) put it, Individuals
show far less cross-situational consistency in their be-
havior than has been assumed by trait-state theories. The
more dissimilar the evoking situations, the less likely
they are to produce similar or consistent responses from
the same individual.
This is remarkably close to conclusions reached by
Hartshorne and May (19281930) in their classic Stud-
ies in the Nature of Character, published in three
volumes. In one terse but explosive statement (Chap-
man, 1977, p. 59), Hartshorne and May (1929) con-
cluded that the
consistency with which he is honest or dishonest is a
function of the situations in which he is placed so far as
(1) these situations have common elements, (2) he has
learned to be honest or dishonest in them, and (3) he has
become aware of their honest or dishonest implications or
consequences. (p. 379)
These studies indicated that the virtue of honesty is not
an enduring habit marked indelibly on the essence of a
childs character, nor is dishonesty a similarly enduring
vice. Children cannot be sorted cleanly into behavioral
types on the basis of presumptive traits, habits, or dis-
positions. In these studies, traits associated with moral
character showed scant cross-situational stability and
very pronounced situational variability, which is pre-
cisely the findings that later personality researchers
would report for other traits.
The pessimistic conclusions of Hartshorne and May
(19281930) have been described variously as a body
blow (Leming, 1997, p. 34) or death blow (Power,
Higgins, & Kohlberg, 1989a, p. 127) to the cause of
character education. Indeed, they are often cited by par-
tisans of the cognitive developmental tradition as evi-
dence of the poverty of the character approach (e.g.,
Kohlberg, 1987). Certainly these studies, along with
Mischels (1990, 1999) analysis, seemed to cast doubt
on the fundamental assumption of the received view of
character traits. Consequently, the ostensible failure of
traits in the study of personality made recourse to
virtues an unappealing option for many researchers in
moral psychology (Lapsley & Narvaez, 2004).
Still, one should not draw the wrong conclusions from
evidence that traits show significant situational variabil-
ity. What is doubted is not the fact that personality
shows important dispositional continuity; what is
doubted is the implausible view that trait possession in-
variably trumps the contextual hand that one is dealt.
The reality of cross-situational variability is not a fail-
ure of the dispositional approach to personality; it is a
failure only of the received view of traits. There is, in-
deed, coherence to personality, but personality coher-
ence cannot be reduced simply to mere stability of
behavior across time and setting (Cervone & Shoda,
1999). Instead, coherence is evident in the dynamic, re-
ciprocal interaction among the dispositions, interests,
and potentialities of the agent and the changing contexts
How Is Character Defined? 253
of learning, development, and socialization. Person
variables and contextual variables dynamically interact
in complex ways, and both are mutually implicated in
behavior. It is here, at the intersection of person and
context, where one looks for a coherent behavioral sig-
nature (Mischel, 2005; Mischel & Shoda, 1995; Mis-
chel, Shoda, & Mendoza-Denton, 2002; Shoda, Mischel,
& Wright, 1994).
The inextricable union of person and context is the
lesson both of developmental contextualism (Lerner,
1991) and social cognitive approaches to personality
(Cervone & Shoda, 1999; Mischel, 1999), and a robust
character psychology will have much in common with
these paradigms. Indeed, recent research already vindi-
cates the promise of this perspective. For example,
Kochanskas research program shows that the develop-
ment of conscience and internalization in early child-
hood requires a goodness-of-fit between styles of
parental socialization and childrens dispositional
temperament (Kochanska, 1993, 1997; Kochanska &
Thompson, 1997). In one study, toddlers (age 2 to 3
years) who were temperamentally fearful showed strong
evidence of internalization when maternal discipline
was mildly coercive, whereas toddlers who were tem-
peramentally fearless profited from mother-child inter-
actions that were mutually cooperative, positive, and
responsive (Kochanska, 1995), a pattern that was longi-
tudinally stable 2 years later (Kochanska, 1997). Other
studies showed that the quality of the parent-child rela-
tionship, as reflected in attachment security, can itself
moderate the relationship between parenting strategies
and moral internalization (Kochanska, Aksan, Knaack,
& Rhines, 2004), and that power assertion can have het-
erogeneous outcomes for moral behavior and moral cog-
nition (Kochanska, Aksan, & Nichols, 2003). Similarly,
Eisenberg and her colleagues showed that a prosocial
personality disposition emerges in early childhood and
is consistent over time (Eisenberg et al., 2002), although
the manifestation of the altruistic personality is me-
diated by individual differences in sympathy (Eisenberg
et al., 1999) and the demand characteristics of social
contexts (Carlo, Eisenberg, Troyer, Switzer, & Speer,
1991). Finally, Mischel and his colleagues (Shoda, Mis-
chel, & Wright, 1994; Wright & Mischel, 1987) showed
that dispositional aggression in children is not, in fact,
on regular display across settings but is observed typi-
cally when aggressive children are placed in settings of
a certain kind, in settings, for example, where demands
are placed on their sense of competence. In these exam-
ples, evidence of dispositional coherence requires con-
textual specification.
A second assumption is that traits hang together to
form a unitary consistency within a person. On this
view, the various virtues cohere in unified practice. One
cannot adequately display courage unless one is also pru-
dent; one cannot be just without temperance; one cannot
display any one virtue without all the others. The unity
of virtues is a notion that has classical sources, and it is
at least implicitly assumed in many discussions about
the role of character in public life. Carr (1991, p. 266)
points out that the unity-of-virtues perspective is simply
the claim that if a quality of character is a genuine
virtue it is not logically inconsistent with any other real
virtue, and that virtues form a unity because they
stand in a certain direct relationship to the truth in
human affairs. The unity of virtues is a logical possi-
bility; it is an ideal aspiration of the virtuous life.
Still, there are doubts about the adequacy of the unity
thesis on both ethical (Carr, 2003; Kent, 1999; MacIn-
tyre, 1981) and psychological grounds. One is not so
much concerned with whether the various virtues co-
here as a logical possibility, but with whether the unity
thesis satisfies a basic criterion of minimal psychologi-
cal realism that it be a possibility for creatures like us
(O. Flanagan, 1991). It is possible after all, given the ex-
igent contingencies of human development, that not all
good qualities are equally compatible, or that a good life
lived well requires the full range of human excellence.
Rather, we become specialists in limited domains of
application as a result of the particularities of our devel-
opmental experiences, the choices we make, and the
environments we select. Our choices canalize the devel-
opment of dispositions proper to our commitment and to
our aspiration, while leaving others unselected, undevel-
oped, and unobserved in our behavioral repertoire. As a
result, certain character blind spots might well be the
price one pays for cultivating excellence in other do-
mains of ones life. It may even be the case that our
virtues are made possible just because other aspects of
our character have gone undeveloped.
The Problem with Virtues
The Character Education Manifesto (Ryan & Bohlin,
1999, p. 190) asserts that the business of character edu-
cation is about developing virtuesgood habits and
dispositions which lead students to responsible and ma-
ture adulthood. We have seen that the appeal to habits
254 Character Education
and dispositions is not entirely satisfactory given the
status of these notions in contemporary psychology. But
talk about virtues is also fraught with difficulties. One
problem for virtue is the specification of what it entails.
How does one fill out a particular virtue? How should
any virtue be manifested in concrete situations? Aristo-
tle argued famously that virtue lies in the mean between
excess and defect. Virtue aims for the intermediate of
passions, appetites, and actions: To feel them at the
right times, with reference to the right objects, toward
the right people, with the right motive, and in the right
ways, is what is both intermediate and best, and that is
characteristic of virtue (1985, l. 1106b). Of course, it
is a complication that some actions and passions have no
mean, and many states of character have no name: Now
most of these states also have no names, but we must try,
as in other cases, to invent names ourselves ( l. 1108a).
Kupperman (1999) points out that Aristotles main
point here is not moderation, as many assume, but judg-
ment and flexible response to individual cases. The vir-
tuous person does not follow habits or rules inflexibly
but adapts conduct to particular circumstances.
Noddings (2002) noted that the specification of
the content of virtue often derives from ones religion
or philosophy. Take, for example, Lickonas (1991a,
p. 364) view that character education must take a stand
on whether its a good idea for adolescents to mastur-
bate, use condoms, or engage in sexual activity, all be-
haviors which [are] clearly wrong for students to do.
The truth is, he writes, that sexual activity by un-
married teenagers is harmful to them and harmful to so-
ciety. The morally right value is for young people to
avoid such activity (p. 364). Although this makes the
content of virtue quite clear, and quite possibly correct,
it does not entirely settle the matter, and one suspects
that very different calculations of what is clearly
wrong and harmful to society are possible given a
different starting point.
At other times, the moral basis for a specification of
virtue is not entirely apparent. One account of the char-
acteristics of a moral teacher suggests, for example, that
teacher morality is made evident by small actions, such
as presenting well-planned, enthusiastically taught
classes, not being petty, not gossiping, getting home-
work and test papers returned to students promptly, re-
moving the wad of gum from the water fountain,
planning a surprise birthday party for a fellow teacher,
or going the extra mile for a struggling student (Wynne
& Ryan, 1997, p. 123). Good student character is simi-
larly reflected in small acts: being a member of the
math team, tutoring, cleaning up the classroom, joining
a sports team, serving as an aide or monitor. One should
not minimize praiseworthy behavior or gainsay the value
of small kindnesses and good deeds well done, yet
the present examples either underspecify the content of
moral virtue (insofar as these behaviors could be moti-
vated by a consideration not of virtue but of duty and ob-
ligation) or else link it with such commonplaces that
virtue is indistinguishable from any behavior that is sim-
ply well regarded by others.
Most approaches to character education stress the im-
portance of practical reasoning in the life of virtue (e.g.,
Lickona, 1991a; Ryan & Bohlin, 1999). Knowing the
good, sizing up the situation, gaining insight about how
to apply or use moral rules are the work of practical wis-
dom. Its importance to virtue is evident in Aristotles
(350/1985, l. 1107a) definition of virtue: It is a state [of
character] concerned with choice lying in a mean rela-
tive to us, which is defined by reference to reason and in
the way in which the person of practical wisdom would
determine it. Moreover, Aristotle seems to acknowl-
edge that the proper display of virtue would require keen
attention to situational complexity, to know the facts of
the case, to see and understand what is morally relevant
and to make decisions that are responsive to the exigen-
cies of the case (Sherman, 1999, p. 38). Or, as Aristotle
put it, For nothing perceptible is easily defined, and
since these circumstances of virtuous and vicious ac-
tions are particulars, the judgments about them depend
on perception ( l. 1109b, emphasis added).
So, if virtues are habits, they must be habits of a cer-
tain kind. The kind of habituation proper to virtues is a
critical facility; it includes learning how to discern,
make distinctions, judge the particulars of the case, and
make considered choices ( but sometimes automatically).
They are dispositions of interpretation (Rorty, 1988) that
cognitive psychologists might conceptualize as schemas,
prototypes, or scripts whose accessibility and activation
make possible the discriminative facility that allows one
to act in ways appropriate to the situation (and whose
functional readiness could approach automaticity).
The context specificity that attaches to the work of
virtues would suggest that one goal of character educa-
tion would be to help children sort through moral ambi-
guity by learning when and how to activate what virtue
requires given the concrete requirements of a specific
context (Noddings, 2002). Of course, what the concrete
situation requires of us, say, by way of honesty might
Philosophical Considerations 255
well conflict with the demands of compassion, for exam-
ple. This means that no account of the virtues can be ab-
sent the lesson of developmental contextualism, which is
that person and context interpenetrate in complex ways
and cannot be separated. One must learn, during the
course of character development, that the exercise of
virtue requires contextual specification; it requires
triage with respect to the dispositions required for par-
ticular settings and an ordering of priorities for their ex-
pression given the requirements of the situation. The
work of virtues is not unlike the work of any disposi-
tional quality in that the coherence of moral character,
its dispositional signature, is to be found at the intersec-
tion of person and context (Mischel, 2005).
PHILOSOPHICAL CONSIDERATIONS
Character is fundamentally an ethical concept that
struggles for psychological specification. Consequently,
the nature of character, both as the moral dimension of
personality and as an object of education, invites signif-
icant philosophical reflection. In this section we take up
two fundamental issues. First, we describe the role that
character education plays in responding to concerns
about ethical relativism. Second, we examine whether
character education can be distinguished from other ed-
ucational objectives by its commitment to a particular
ethical theory associated with Aristotle and the virtue
ethics tradition.
Bag of Virtues and Foundations
One suspects that there is deep ambivalence among the-
orists of character education to consider how virtue
works in context for fear that it invites comparison to
situational ethics and ethical relativism. This is a
charge that character education has had to fend off ever
since Kohlberg derisively characterized character edu-
cation as the bag of virtues approach. For Kohlberg
and the cognitive developmental tradition, the study of
moral development was a way to provide the psychologi-
cal resources by which to defeat ethical relativism. In
answer to the ethical relativist who claims that moral
perspectives are incommensurable, Kohlberg (1969,
p. 352) asserted Piagets doctrine of cognitive stages,
which provides a developmental criterion for assessing
the adequacy of moral judgment. Moral judgments that
approach the moral ideal represented by the final stage
of moral reasoning were more adequate on both psycho-
logical and ethical grounds (Kohlberg, 1971, 1973).
Moreover, justice reasoning at the highest stages made
possible a set of operations that could generate consen-
sus about hard case moral quandary. One defeats ethical
relativism, then, by motivating justice reasoning to
higher stages of development (Lapsley, 2005).
But Kohlbergs project left no room for traits, virtue,
or character, for two reasons. First, there was no sensi-
ble way to talk about virtues if they are conceptualized
as traits-of-character. After all, the Hartshorne and
May (19281930) studies appeared to show that the
psychological reality of traits could not be empirically
confirmed (see also Puka, 2004, for trenchant doubts
about the reality of virtues) or else could not be relied
on to document dispositional consistency in moral be-
havior. Second, and perhaps more to the point, the lan-
guage of traits did not provide what was wanted most,
which was a way to defeat ethical relativism on psycho-
logical grounds. For Kohlberg, any compilation of fa-
vored or approved virtues is completely arbitrary. It
entails sampling from a bag of virtues until a suitable
list is produced that has something for everyone. Whats
more, and worse, given Kohlbergs project, the meaning
of virtue trait words is relative to particular communi-
ties, for, as Kohlberg and Mayer (1972) put it, one per-
sons integrity is another persons stubbornness; one
persons honesty in expressing true feelings is another
persons insensitivity to the feelings of others. Not sur-
prisingly, the character education movement uniformly
rejects the notion that character education gives com-
fort to ethical relativism. Indeed, as we will see shortly,
the reconstruction of educational history favored by ad-
vocates of character education typically pins the blame
for youth disorder on the ethical relativism promoted
by other trends in American culture and education, for
which character education is the remedy.
If the problem of settings and context specificity is
taken up at all, it takes the form of addressing the ques-
tion of whose values are to be taught in the schools.
But this is unproblematic for many character educators
because, it is asserted, there are objective values univer-
sally agreed on that schools should address with confi-
dence (Lickona, 1991a). For example, one might appeal
to natural law theory to define morality in rational
terms agreeable to all (p. 141). One might distinguish
between universal core values that we all do agree on
(e.g., respect, responsibility, honesty, justice, caring),
possibly because they meet certain canons of objectivity
256 Character Education
(e.g., Kants categorical imperative or Kohlbergs Pi-
agetian criteria of reversibility) and additional values
that are unique to certain communities, such as the
Amish, who might endorse, in addition to core values,
such things as piety, simplicity, and modesty (Davidson,
2005). Although the list of common moral values
might differ among communities, there is, nonetheless, a
core and a large overlap in the content that emerges
(Ryan & Bohlin, 1999, p. 50).
Still, we think this debate has gone on long enough.
The specter of ethical relativism has been a bogey
haunting moral psychology and education for decades,
but it has been a distraction, and it has distorted the
work of both the cognitive developmental and character
education paradigms. It has prevented the cognitive de-
velopmental tradition from considering the role of per-
sonality and self hood in moral reasoning because these
variables could not secure the autonomy of reason or the
universality of judgments (Lapsley, 1996; Walker, 2002;
Walker & Hennig, 1998). It has distracted character ed-
ucation with worries about moral objectivity and foun-
dations, and with the seeming necessity to show that it is
just as sternly antirelativist as the committed stage the-
orist. However, whether moral claims are universal or
incommensurable, whether there is anything like objec-
tive moral facts that vouchsafe our moral convictions,
are ethical-philosophical or theological issues that psy-
chological research is ill equipped to address with its ar-
mamentarium of empirical tools (Blasi, 1990). The
attempt to resolve philosophical problems with empiri-
cal data has been a big mistake, in our view, and has led
to cramped and truncated research programs restricted
by perceived philosophical restrictions and boundaries.
Carr (1991) suggested that much of the anxiety about
foundations in moral education has got things the wrong
way round. In his view, we do not start with principles
and then derive practices; rather, the principles are in-
duced from within the practices and experiences of our
social life. The principles, in other words, are under-
written by practices, not practices by the principles.
Practices are the product of a fallible human attempt to
understand the web of moral association by reference
to consideration of . . . what sort of conduct conduce to
good and ill, well-being and harm (p. 4). One can reject
the balm of foundationalism and still affirm that work-
able criteria of right and wrong, of good and evil, of
virtue and vice can be discovered in the rough and tum-
ble of human interpersonal relations and conduct
(p. 4). Virtues, then, are not foundational axioms or first
principles; they are not
hard and fast principles which may be applied to any con-
ceivable circumstance but general patterns or tendencies
of conduct which require reasonable and cautious adjust-
ment to particular and changing circumstances and which
may even, in some situations, compete with each other for
preference and priority. (p. 5)
And although different communities may well flesh out
the meaning of virtues (e.g., courage, caring) in differ-
ent ways, it is hard to envisage a human community in
which these qualities are not needed, recognized or held
to be of any value at all (p. 6), given the affordances of
our shared biological and social nature (see also Nuss-
baum, 1988).
One appreciates in Carrs (1991) account of virtues
and foundations the notion broached earlier, that
virtues, and traits generally, do not trump invariably the
contextual hand one is dealt; that virtues must be con-
textually specified and situationally ordered; that
virtues are socially implicated dispositions; and that the
desired schedule of virtues, their meaning and mode of
expression, are deeply embedded in the practices, cus-
toms, and expectations of communitiesand that none
of this should give comfort to the ethical relativist (or
else the issue of ethical relativism is a different sort of
conversation). This also suggests, as we will see later,
that moral education can never be simply about the char-
acter of children without also addressing the context of
education, that is to say, the culture, climate, structure,
and function of classrooms and schools (Berkowitz &
Bier, 2005). Persons and contexts are inextricably linked
and cannot be separated.
If Carrs (1991) view is correct, that virtues are dis-
positional templates induced from social practices,
whose meaning can be discovered in the rough and
tumble of human interpersonal relations (p. 4), then
one way to approach the problem of whether there are
core values that overlap is to determine if such tem-
plates are evident in the way ordinary people think about
character. That is, rather than nominate core values
from some alleged objective standpoint, from natural
law or the perspective of eternity, one might proceed in-
ductively from the standpoint of individual informants.
There have been recent attempts to address the mat-
ter empirically. Lapsley and Lasky (1999) provided
evidence that conceptions of good character are organ-
Philosophical Considerations 257
ized as a cognitive prototype, and that this prototype
has a significant influence on recognition memory and
information processing. In this study, the top 10 traits
with the highest prototypicality ratings are honest,
trustworthy, genuine, loving, dependable, loyal, trust-
ing, friendly, respectful, and caring.
Similarly, Walker (2004; Walker & Pitts, 1998) has
pursued naturalistic studies of the prototype structure
of a highly moral person and has identified clusters or
themes that commonly show up in peoples understand-
ing of moral maturity. One cluster, for example, is a set
of principled-idealistic commitments to strongly held
values. Another includes themes of fairness. Other
clusters identify dependable-loyal, caring-trustworthy,
and confident-agency themes. Subsequent research ex-
amined the prototype structure of conceptions of just,
brave, and caring persons (Walker & Hennig, 2004). Al-
though these attributes differ somewhat from the proto-
typical good character, as one might expect with
different targets, it would appear that a common core of
trait attributes for character and moral personality can
be identified empirically.
Character and Virtue Ethics
It is widely assumed that Kohlbergs cognitive develop-
mental approach to moral education represents an instan-
tiation of an ethical theory associated with Kant,
whereas character education focuses on a different set of
ethical concerns represented by Aristotelian virtue
ethics. Indeed, Steutel and Carr (1999; Carr & Steutel,
1999; Steutel, 1997) argued that if character education is
to be distinguished from other forms of moral education,
such as Kohlbergs, it must be grounded in an explicit
commitment to virtue ethics and not to other ethical the-
ories. If character education is in fact committed to
virtue ethics, what might that entail?
G. Watson (1990) suggested a useful tripartite divi-
sion of ethical theory: the ethic of requirement (where
the primary moral considerations concern rational judg-
ments of obligation and duty and the moral appraisal
of action), the ethic of consequences (various forms of
utilitarianism), and the ethic of virtue. An ethics of
virtue is distinguished from the others by its claim that
the basic moral facts are facts about the quality of char-
acter (arte); that judgments about agents and their
traits have explanatory primacy over judgments about
duty, obligation, and utility; and that deontic judgments
about obligation and action appraisal are, in fact, de-
rived from the appraisal of character and ancillary to it.
On an ethics of virtue, he writes, how it is best or
right or proper to conduct oneself is explained in terms
of how it is best for a human being to be (p. 451).
Hence, a virtue ethics has two features: (1) It makes a
claim of explanatory primacy for aretaic judgments
about character, agents, and what is required for flour-
ishing; and (2) it includes a theory about how it is best
or right or proper to conduct oneself in light of what is
known about human excellence. Surprisingly, neither
feature has much resonance in character education. In
most accounts of character education, one cultivates
virtues mostly to better fulfill ones obligation and duty
(the ethics of requirement) or to prevent the rising tide of
youth disorder (character utilitarianism, or the ethics of
consequences). Although one can conceive of virtues as
providing action-guiding prescriptions just as deontolog-
ical theory does (Hursthouse, 2003), the point of virtues
in most accounts of character education is to live up to
the prescriptions derived from deontic considerations: to
respect persons, fulfill ones duty to the self and to oth-
ers, and submit to the natural law. When the goal of
character education is to help children know the good,
this typically means coming to learn the cross-cultural
composite of moral imperatives and ideals (Ryan &
Bohlin, 1999, p. 7). Rather than emphasize agent ap-
praisal, the animating goal of many character educators
is appraisal of actions, for, as Wynne and Hess (1992,
p. 31) put it, Character is conduct, and the best test of
a schools moral efficiency is pupils day-to-day con-
duct, displayed through deeds and words (Wynne 1991,
p. 145).
It would appear, then, that character education and
cognitive developmental moral education cannot be dis-
tinguished on the basis of the ethical theory that ani-
mates them. Character education, for all its appeal to
virtues, seems to embrace the ethics of requirement just
as surely as does moral stage theory, rather than an
ethics of virtue. The most important moral facts for both
paradigms are still facts about obligation, universal
principles, and duty. The most important object of eval-
uation for both paradigms is still action and conduct; it
is still deciding the good thing to do rather than the sort
of person to become. The fact that character education is
so thoroughly deontological and utilitarian with so little
in common with virtue ethics is not inherently problem-
atic, although it does attenuate some hope that virtue
258 Character Education
ethics would open up a new front in moral psychology
and education (Campbell & Christopher, 1996; Camp-
bell, Christopher, & Bickhard, 2002; Punzo, 1996).
EDUCATIONAL CONSIDERATIONS
If character education cannot be distinguished from
rival approaches in terms of its justifying ethical theory,
then perhaps its singularity is to be found elsewhere,
say, in terms of its educational practices or in the way
that it frames its educational mission. There does seem
to be something quite distinctive about the way the case
is made for character education, what has been called
the genre of discontent (Lapsley & Power, 2005) and the
litany of alarm (Arthur, 2003).
Typically, the first move in making the case for char-
acter education is to review a long list of social ills that
characterize children and adolescents to document the
rising tide of youth disorder. Brooks and Goble (1997,
p. 6) point to youth crime, violence, drug addiction, and
other forms of irresponsible behavior. Wynne and
Hess (1992; also Wynne & Ryan, 1997) review the sta-
tistics for homicide, suicide, out-of-wedlock births, pre-
marital sex, illegal drug use, delinquency and crime
rates, and plunging academic achievement test scores.
Lickona (1991a]) notes the increase in violence and van-
dalism, stealing, cheating, disrespect, peer cruelty, big-
otry, bad language, self-centeredness, and use of illegal
substances.
After cataloguing these trends, there is an attempt to
understand their source. Lickonas (1991a) account is
paradigmatic. Like other writers in this genre, he draws
attention to troubling evidence of cultural decline that is
attributed to broad changes in American education. In
the early days of the republic children were instructed
intentionally on matters of character by the exhortation,
discipline, and example of teachers, by the models of
virtue encountered in the Bible and the McGuffey
Reader, and elsewhere in the curriculum. Eventually,
however, this old-fashioned character education was
forced into retreat by a convergence of larger forces that
undermined the confidence of schools in taking on their
traditional moral educational responsibilities.
The influence of Darwins theory, for example, led
people to wonder if even moral sensibilities could be up-
rooted from fixed and static foundations and regarded
as something changeable and evolutionary. Einsteins
theory of relativity encouraged a kind of moral perspec-
tivism that viewed moral claims as relative to a certain
point of view. The Hartshorne and May (19281930)
studies highlighted the role of situations in moral behav-
ior. And the general rise of logical positivism encour-
aged the view that the only sensible things to say were
those amenable to publicly verifiable empirical demon-
strations (as facts), whereas everything else (val-
ues) was held to be subjective, personal, and quite
literally nonsense (see, e.g., Ayer, 1952).
These four trends, then, according to Lickona
(1991a), forced character education into retreat. When
much of society, he writes, came to think of morality
as being in flux [Darwin], relative to the individual
[Einstein], situationally variable [Hartshorne and May]
and essentially private [logical positivism], public
schools retreated from their once central role as moral
educator (p. 8).
This reconstruction of history, and others like it, has
been called the cultural declinist perspective (Nash,
1997) for perhaps the obvious reason that it sees an em-
pirical relationship between the neglect or abandonment
of intentional character education and the rise of disor-
der and immorality among young people. This way of
making the case serves as a preface for three additional
issues that we will consider here. The first issue con-
cerns whether the singularity of character education can
be identified on the basis of the sort of problems it at-
tempts to address, or the manner in which it attempts to
address them, or whether any conceivable intervention
targeting problematic behavior would qualify as an in-
stance of character education. Second, is character edu-
cation identified by a commitment to direct or indirect
methods of instruction? We will see that this debate is
best understood in the context of much larger histories
of teaching practice and of the idea of liberal education.
Third, in what sense is the cultural declinist genre itself
a recurring movement in educational history, and how
can we understand its resurgence over the past 2
decades? An examination of the historiography of char-
acter education will show that there are recurring cycles
of concern about character education during periods of
rapid change, and that character education movements
typically fail without well-attested models of self and
personality.
Broad Character Education
When the case is made for character education by ap-
pealing to troubling social trends or to the epidemiology
of adolescent risk behavior, there is an implication that
Educational Considerations 259
any program that attempts to drive down these trends or
ameliorate the incidence of risk behavior might reason-
ably fall under the broad umbrella of character educa-
tion. If getting bad grades, cheating, dropping out of
school, having sex, bearing children, using drugs, get-
ting into fights, committing status offenses, breaking
the law, attempting suicide, showing disrespect, being a
bullyif these are the mark of poor moral character,
then programs designed to encourage school persist-
ence, prevent teen pregnancy, discourage the use of
drugs and alcohol, improve social skills and social prob-
lem solving, increase resilience to social-affective
problems, and the like might qualify as moral character
interventions. There is evidence for such a sweeping
view of character education. In her study of the charac-
ter education practices of 350 Blue Ribbon schools,
Murphy (1998) reported a wide range of practices, in-
cluding self-esteem programs, general guidance coun-
seling, drug education, citizenship, discipline, and
conflict management. However, in only 11% of schools
was there explicit mention of any program called char-
acter education.
Similarly, Berkowitz and Bier (2004b) identified 12
recommended and 18 promising practices in a review of
what works in character education. These practices
covered a wide range of purposes, including problem
solving, health education, empathy, social skills and so-
cial competence training, conflict resolution, peace
making, life skills training, developmental assets, and
positive youth development. Although Berkowitz and
Bier (2004a) concluded that these programs work, they
also noted that most of them do not use the term char-
acter to describe their intentions and objectives. Very
few of them were designed with any notion of virtues,
character, or morality in mind, and were not described
as instances of moral or character education. Nonethe-
less, the success of these programs is claimed for char-
acter education because their methods, outcomes, and
justifications are similar to what might be expected of
character education programs. After all, they write,
they are all school based endeavors designed to help
foster the positive development of youth (p. 5).
By these criteria it is difficult to imagine what would
not count as character education or be excluded from its
purview. If character education is all of these things,
and if the success of character education is parasitic on
the success of any well-designed intervention or preven-
tion program, then the singularity of character educa-
tion as a distinctive educational objective or pedagogy,
with unique curricular and programmatic features, ap-
pears to vanish.
It would seem paradoxical that the manner in which
the case has been made for character education actually
results in its disappearance as a distinctive educational
objective in its own right. If the case is made on the
basis of disturbing trends in the epidemiology of adoles-
cent risk behavior, then it bids one to look for the
success of character education in the diminution of this
behavior. But then character education becomes any
program that has a positive outcome with respect to
adolescent risk behavior. It becomes a catalogue of psy-
chosocial intervention, promotion, and prevention pro-
grams whose objectives are framed by reference to an
entirely different set of theoretical literatures that
make no reference to morality, virtue, or character.
Moreover, there is little reason to appeal to character
education, or use the language of moral valuation, to
understand the etiology of risk behavior or how best to
prevent or ameliorate exposure to risk or promote re-
silience and adjustment.
The problem with the broad view, then, is that it does
not point to anything distinctive about character educa-
tion. Yet, perhaps the problem of singularity derives
from the fact that all good causes in education, from
social-emotional learning to positive youth develop-
ment, risk reduction, psychosocial resilience, academic
achievement, and character education, are driven effec-
tively by a common set of school practices. Just as prob-
lem behaviors are interrelated and are predicted by a
similar profile of risk factors, so, too, are adaptive and
prosocial behaviors interrelated and linked to a common
set of developmental factors and instructional practices.
Indeed, Berkowitz and Bier (2004b) nominate positive
youth development as the inclusive term to cover all
of the program objectives and suggest that these objec-
tives are simply part of good education generally. The
downside of this maneuver is that character education
appears to lose its singular focus. But the loss of concep-
tual distinctiveness for character education is offset by
the gain in instructional clarity for practitioners. The
problem for the practitioner is not the problem of know-
ing which program works or of correctly labeling cur-
ricular and programmatic activities, but of mastering
the instructional best practices that are common to all of
them (see Howard, Dryden, & Johnson, 1999, for a sim-
ilar point with respect to promoting resilience).
Yet, there is a case to be made for character educa-
tion that has little need for troubling epidemiological
260 Character Education
trends. The case is made simply by pointing to the fact
that moral considerations are immanent to the life of
classrooms and schools, that teaching and learning are
value-laden activities, and that moral aims are intrinsic
to education (Bryk, 1988; Goodlad, 1992; D. T. Hansen,
1993; Strike, 1996). The case is made by reference to
the developmental objectives of schools and to the role
of schools in inculcating the skills proper to democratic
citizenship and to full participation in the life of the
community. The immanence of values and the inevitabil-
ity of moral education is an argument almost always
found in the character educators brief, but mostly for
countering the charge of indoctrination rather than for
making the case. Yet the immanence-and-inevitability
thesis would seem to arm the character educator with all
the resources that are needed to defend an intentional
and transparent commitment to the moral formation
of students. Moreover, the case that is made from this
standpoint is a positive one; it makes reference to devel-
opmental purposes, to a conception of what it means to
flourish, to the skills, dispositions, and excellences that
are required to live well and competently, the life that is
good for one to live in a democratic society. This is in
contradistinction to the traditional argument that builds
the case negatively by making character education just
another prevention program, viewing character educa-
tion as a kind of prophylaxis or cultural defense against
youth disorder.
Direct and Indirect Methods
In an early essay, Dewey (1908) defined the terms of
this debate. It may be laid down as fundamental, he
asserted, that the influence of direct moral instruction,
even at its very best, is comparatively slight in influence,
when the whole field of moral growth through education
is taken into account (p. 4, emphasis in original).
Rather, it is the larger field of indirect and vital moral
education, the development of character through all the
agencies, instrumentalities and materials of school life
(p. 4), that is far more influential. This larger field of in-
direct education reproduces within the school the typi-
cal conditions of social life to be encountered without.
The only way to prepare for social life is to engage in
social life (p. 15).
Moreover, this sort of moral education is possible
only when the school itself becomes an embryonic
typical community (Dewey, 1908, p. 15). Indeed, for
Dewey, the school has no moral aim apart from partici-
pation in social life. The rules of school life must point
to something larger, outside of itself, otherwise educa-
tion becomes a mere gymnastics exercise that trains
faculties that make no sense and have no moral signifi-
cance just because they are disconnected from larger
purposes. Absent these purposes, moral education is
pathological and formal. It is pathological when it is
alert to wrongdoing but fails to cultivate positive ser-
vice, when it stresses conformity to school routines that
are arbitrary and conventional but lack inherent neces-
sity. Moral training is formal when it emphasizes an ad
hoc catalogue of habits that are school duties, not
life duties. To the extent that the work of schools is
disconnected from social life, insistence on these moral
habits is more or less unreal because the ideal to which
they relate is not itself necessary (p. 17). The moral
habits of interest to Dewey concern an interest in com-
munity welfare, in perceiving what is necessary for so-
cial order and progress, and in the skills necessary to
execute principles of action. All school habits must be
related to these if they are to be animated by the breath
of life (p. 17).
Dewey (1908) was critical of a traditional pedagogy
of exhortation, didactic instruction, and drill. Such
pedagogy fails to cultivate a social spirit; it emphasize
individualistic motives, competition, comparative suc-
cess, dispiriting social comparison; it encourages pas-
sive absorption and emphasizes preparation for life
but in the remote future. It reduces moral instruction to
simply teaching about virtues or in instilling certain at-
titudes about them. What is required instead is an ap-
proach to education that links school subjects to a social
interest; that cultivates childrens ability to discern, ob-
serve, and comprehend social situations; that uses meth-
ods that appeal to the active constructive powers of
intelligence; that organizes the school along the lines of
a genuine community and selects curricular materials
that gives children a consciousness of the world and
what it will demand. Only if schools are prepared to take
on these principles can they be said to meet their basic
ethical requirements.
Deweys vision of moral education is sometimes
called a progressive or indirect approach because
it eschews traditional pedagogy that relies on didactic
instruction and direct transmission of moral content.
Instead, indirect approaches emphasize the childs ac-
tive construction of moral meaning through participa-
Educational Considerations 261
tion in democratic practices, cooperative groupings, so-
cial interaction, and moral discussion (e.g., DeVries &
Zan, 1994).
In contrast, the direct approach to instruction is
widely associated with traditional character education
(Benninga, 1991b; Solomon, Watson, & Battistich,
2001). In a defense, Ryan (1989, p. 15) asserted that
character development is directive and sees the teacher
in a more active role than does the cognitive develop-
mental tradition. There is sympathy for what is called
the Great Tradition that views the educational encounter
as one of transmission from adults to children (Wynne
& Ryan, 1997). For traditional character education,
morality is ready-made and good character requires sub-
mission to its preexisting norms. It is suspicious of indi-
rect or constructivist approaches that seemingly allow
adults to abdicate their role as moral teachers in favor of
consensual democratic practices in schools. Such
practices are antitradition because they seem to allow
students to engage in highly relativistic discussions
about value laden issues where alternative views might
emerge with respect to such things as obedience or the
limits of loyalty to ones country (p. 35). These prac-
tices seem to let the kids decide what important values
are and naively assumes that children will choose well
when given opportunities for self-direction. Is it wise,
writes Wynne (1991, p. 142, emphasis added), to
teach pupils that basic moral principles and conven-
tions generally accepted by responsible adults should be
considered de novo, and possibly rejected, by each suc-
cessive adolescent cohort? Must each generation try to
completely reinvent society?
Mimesis and Transformation
The debate over direct and indirect methods of character
education has a much longer history and, when properly
considered, points to a middle way for practitioners.
Jackson (1986) captures much of this history in his use-
ful distinction between mimetic and transformative tra-
ditions of education. Both traditions are centuries old
and describe a complex worldview about the nature of
teaching and learning. These traditions are at the nexus
of partisan rivalry not simply because they articulate
different perspectives on what constitutes proper teach-
ing, but because they each comprise a different form of
life (following Wittgenstein, 1968), a fact that raises
the stakes considerably.
The mimetic tradition embraces a transmission
model of teaching and learning. Knowledge is consid-
ered something detachable (it can be preserved), sec-
ondhand (it first belongs to someone else before it is
transmitted), and reproducible (which facilitates its
transmission). As such, knowledge is presented to the
learner, rather than discovered by the learner. It can be
judged as right or wrong, correct or incorrect. The
mimetic teacher is directive, expert in the substantive
bodies of knowledge and in methodological competence.
The student is a novice, without knowledge of what
teachers know, and hence the object of transmission. In
more epigrammatic terms, the slogan for this tradition
might be: What the teacher knows, that shall the stu-
dent come to know (Jackson, 1986, p. 119).
In contrast, the transformative tradition intends a
qualitative change in that which is deeply foundational
in a person: in ones character, set of traits, or other en-
during aspects of ones psychological makeup. The goal
of teachers in this tradition is to:
bring about changes in their students (and possibly in
themselves as well) that make them better persons, not
simply more knowledgeable or more skillful, but better in
the sense of being closer to what humans are capable of
becoming-more virtuous, fuller participants in the
evolving moral order. (Jackson, 1986, p. 127)
And transformative teachers attempt to bring about
these changes not through dogmatic presentation of
foundational texts, not by means of didactic instruction,
but by discussion, argumentation, and demonstration.
The transformative teacher, in other words, attempts to
influence students by philosophical means. As Jackson
put it, Armed only with the tools of reason the transfor-
mative teacher seeks to accomplish what can be attained
in no other way (p. 127).
Oratorical and Philosophical Traditions
The distinction between direct and indirect character
education can be framed historically not only by refer-
ence to (mimetic and transformative) traditions of
teaching, but also by reference to the history of liberal
education. According to Kimball (1986), the history of
liberal education from the ancients to the present is the
struggle between two distinct traditions that he termed
philosophical and oratorical. Moreover, the value
262 Character Education
conflicts between these traditions have resulted in re-
curring cycles of educational reform as first one then
the other tradition becomes ascendant.
The philosophical tradition is aligned historically
with Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle. It asserts that the
pursuit of knowledge and truth is the highest good; that
because truth is elusive and because there are many un-
certainties, one must cultivate the philosophical disposi-
tions, be open-minded, judge fairly, reason critically. In
this tradition, it is freedom of the intellect and diligent
inquiry that is the goal and purpose of education.
The oratorical tradition is aligned historically with
Isocrates and Cicero. It is committed to the public ex-
pression of what is known through classic texts and
tradition. One becomes a virtuous citizen-orator by be-
coming acquainted with the wisdom evident in rhetoric
and in the classics. If the philosophical tradition saw
truth and goodness as something elusive and unsettled,
as something not yet realized or achieved, but that can
be grasped only by the critical discernment of specula-
tive reason, the oratorical tradition locates truth and
goodness in the great texts and past traditions. If the
philosophical tradition conceives the search for truth as
an act of discovery, it is an act of recovery for the ora-
torical tradition. If the philosophical tradition intends to
equip individuals to face an uncertain future, the orator-
ical tradition intends to equip individuals with the cer-
tain and settled verities of the past.
Featherstone (1986) points out that the great strength
of the philosophical tradition is its emphasis on the free
exercise of reason in pursuit of the truth, but that its
weakness as an educational philosophy is its silence on
just what is to be taught. It urges one to seek the truth
like a philosopher, but cannot say what truth is with
much certainty. It is strong on method, weak on content.
This is where the oratorical tradition has an advantage.
The educational point of the oratorical tradition is to
master the content of traditional texts. In the oratorical
tradition, the task of education is to impart the truth, not
to help students seek it (Featherstone, 1986). It is strong
on content, weak on method.
It would seem, then, that the contemporary debate
concerning direct and indirect methods reflects deeper
and longer-standing conflicts over the role of mimesis
or transformation in teaching, or the relative value of
preparing orators or philosophers in education. Yet it
also seems clear that the modern expression of direct
character education reveals a fundamental confusion
about its sources, aims, and traditions. For example, al-
though direct character education intends to transform
students character in the direction of virtue, it at-
tempts to do so with teaching that is mimetic rather
than transformative. Moreover, in spite of its frequent
invocation of classical sources such as Socrates, Plato,
and Aristotle, it is apparent that direct approaches to
character education are not, in fact, the heirs of the
philosophical tradition but of the oratorical tradition.
Indeed, the direct approach is largely mimetic and ora-
torical, whereas the indirect approach is transformative
and philosophical.
Of course, it is not hard to see the middle way in this
debate. There are occasions in teaching for both mime-
sis and transformation. We need both orators and
philosophers. The best teachers are experts in pedagogi-
cal content knowledge (Shulman, 1987; Wilson, Shul-
man, & Richert, 1987) and are able therefore to use
instructional methods appropriate for teaching specific
content. The best approaches to character education
flexibly balance the philosophical methods of inquiry,
discussion, and discernment with the oratorical respect
for text and tradition; both direct and indirect ap-
proaches find a place in the curriculum (Benninga,
1991b). Lickonas (1991a, 1991b, 1992, 1997; Lickona
& Davidson, 2004) integrated approach to character ed-
ucation is a good example. Although this approach has
decided oratorical sympathies and resorts to the genre
of discontent to makes its case, there is also significant
and welcome appreciation of the constructivist nature of
learning and of the necessity for transformative ap-
proaches to teaching. Alongside directive advocacy of
certain value positions there is use of indirect strategies
as well, including cooperative learning, conflict resolu-
tion, classroom democratic processes, moral discussion
and reflection, and the need to build a sense of moral
community within the school.
Historical Lessons
We noted earlier that a cultural declinist reading of
American history is commonly used to make the case for
character education. And that the debate between tradi-
tionalists and progressives, between advocates of direct
and indirect methods of character education, is just the
contemporary manifestation of more fundamental con-
flicts concerning the nature of teaching (mimesis versus
transformative) and of liberal education (oratorical ver-
Educational Considerations 263
sus philosophical) that have quite long-standing histori-
cal roots. But what of the history of character education
itself ? Chapmans (1977) observation summarizes a
common theme. It is curious to note, he writes, how
the concern for character seems to have been associated
with times of rapid social change (p. 65).
McClellan (1999) notes, for example, in his influen-
tial history of moral education, that the nineteenth cen-
tury ushered in a revolution in moral education that was
motivated by massive social upheaval and the collapse
of the old order brought about by urbanization, mobility,
and immigration. Traditional sources of social order
stable hierarchical social structures, patterns of cultural
and political deference, webs of extended kinships and
tight-knit communitiesweakened as images of control
and orderly change gave way to visions of movement and
opportunity (p. 15). The response was to urge early in-
struction of a common moral code, taught largely
through a new genre of childrens stories and by the suf-
fusion of maxims and moral lessons throughout text-
books. Typical themes included the certainty of progress
and the perfection of the United States, love of country,
duty to parents, the importance of thrift, honesty, and
hard work for accumulation of property.
In the early twentieth century, the demands of
modernity further sundered the seamless weave of the
community into largely disconnected sectors of home,
employment, marketplace, church, and recreation, each
operating with seemingly different value systems.
Schools were now required to prepare students to take
up a variety of roles across the differentiated spheres
of a segmented social order (McClellan, 1999, p. 47).
Schools became complex institutions with varied pur-
poses, only one of which was moral education.
Among character educators there was a sense that
modernity presented important challenges to traditional
values that could be mastered only by vigorous teaching
of specific virtues and character traits, not just in school
but in a variety of clubs and youth organizations that
proliferated in the early twentieth century. Codes of con-
duct were promulgated, and teachers were expected to
use these codes to provide themes for instruction. Much
like today, these themes were exhibited in classroom
posters and laws of the month. Citizenship and comport-
ment grades were commonly taken as signs of character
development. Moral education itself was directed largely
to the problem of motivation and will rather than to rea-
soning. The problem was how to make moral conduct ha-
bitual rather than to teach ethical decision making, a no-
tion that has a familiar ring a century later.
The progressive alternative, as we have seen, rejected
the emphasis on teaching particular virtues as being un-
suited to help children meet the demands of a changing
social order, and it rejected, too, the direct approaches
to instruction as pedagogically ineffective. Instead, it
emphasized ethical sensitivity to the demands of chang-
ing society, the ability to make moral judgments, and the
larger civic and political purposes of moral education as
opposed to the traditional emphasis on private virtue
and conduct. Hence, rather than focus on traditional
texts, the progressive alternative encouraged democratic
decision making, critical thinking, and scientific in-
quiry as the methods best able to equip students to take
up their obligations in modern society. These are the
very terms of reference for the current debate concern-
ing character education.
Indeed, Cunningham (2005) points to many common
themes between the current popularity of character edu-
cation and its predecessor movements earlier in the
twentieth century. He notes that many modern propo-
nents of character education who ardently look back to
the Great Tradition, when traditional character educa-
tion was allegedly pervasive, widely embraced, and suc-
cessfully implemented, might be surprised to learn that
the educational tradition they seek was not apparent
to contemporaries. Widespread anxiety about social dis-
integration was as common to the first decades of the
twentieth century as to the later decades. Both periods
exhibited alarm at the sorry state of moral character
among business leaders and politicians, as well as youth.
Both periods saw evidence of cultural decline, loss of
traditional values, and abandonment of foundational
principles. Both periods saw the formation of character
education lobbies, pressure groups, and professional so-
cieties; both saw state action by legislatures to mandate
character education in the schools; both saw the need for
experiential or service learning; both saw the promulga-
tion of widely divergent lists of urgently needed virtues,
debates about direct and indirect methods, and the
proper place of coercion and democratic practices in the
schools. Moreover, the chasm between educators and re-
searchers, between the ardent confidence of character
educators in their favored curriculum and the skepticism
of researchers about its efficacy, also has a long history
(see Leming, 1997). Moreover, Cunningham argues that
whereas the rise of traditional character education in
264 Character Education
the twentieth century typically accompanied periods of
great social ferment and rapid social change, when there
were profound challenges to national identity and wide-
spread anxiety about social cohesion and the unsettling
forces of modernity, its fall was inevitable without an
adequate character psychology to guide curricular devel-
opment and instructional practice. Unless psychology
can provide a better model of human development, he
writes, character will continue to receive sporadic and
faddish treatment and the publics common school will
continue to be undermined (p. 197).
We return, then, to a central claim of this chapter,
which is that the conceptual grounding required for any
minimally adequate character education must be found
in robust models of character psychology (Cunningham,
2005; Lapsley & Power, 2005). Although ideological
commitments are notoriously immune to influence, it is
our view that consensual frameworks for addressing
character education will be forthcoming when contro-
versies are anchored to appropriate psychological litera-
tures. In the next section, we take note of relatively
recent approaches to character psychology that provide
new ways of conceptualizing the moral dimensions of
personality.
NEW APPROACHES TO
CHARACTER PSYCHOLOGY
There are at least two new approaches that have emerged
for conceptualizing moral character. One approach ar-
gues that a moral identity results when the self identi-
fies with moral commitments or a moral point of view. A
second approach conceptualizes character in terms of
the literatures of cognitive and personality psychology.
We briefly consider each approach in turn.
Identity, Exemplars, and the Moral Self
One way to conceptualize character is in terms of moral
identity. According to Hart (2005), moral identity in-
cludes self-awareness, a sense of self integration and
continuity over time, a commitment to plans of action
and an attachment to ones moral goals. Moreover, he ar-
gues that the contours of moral identity are constrained
by stable aspects of personality but also by characteris-
tics of family and neighborhood. Moral identity is a joint
product of personal and contextual factors. Indeed,
moral identity is influenced by factors beyond the con-
trol of the adolescent, which introduces an element of
moral luck in the sort of commitments a young person
might identify with. Yet there is plasticity in moral iden-
tity development. Moral identity is open to revision
across the lifecourse, particularly when one is given op-
portunities to engage in moral action. This possibility
underscores the importance of providing youth with op-
portunities for service learning and community service,
a topic we take up later.
Blasis (1984, 1985, 1995) account of moral identity
shares some similarity with Harts (2005). According to
Blasi one has a moral identity to the extent that the self
is organized around moral commitments. One has a
moral identity when moral notions are central, impor-
tant, and essential to ones self-understanding. This
yields a personality imbued with a deep, affective, and
motivational orientation toward morality. Blasi (1984)
insists, however, that any account of the moral personal-
ity be grounded on the premise that rationality is the
core of the moral life. To have a moral identity is to have
good moral reasons for the identity-defining commit-
ments that one makes.
Of course, not everyone has a self-concept that is
constructed by reference to moral reasons. Some indi-
viduals organize self-related information around moral
categories, others do not. Some individuals let moral no-
tions penetrate to the core of what and who they are as
persons; others have only a glancing acquaintance with
moral notions but choose to define the self in other
ways, by reference to other values and commitments
(Walker, Pitts, Hennig, & Matsuba, 1995). Even those
who define the self in moral terms may do so in differ-
ent ways, emphasizing different sets of moral priorities.
In this way, moral identity is a dimension of individual
differences; it is foundational to the moral personality
(Blasi, 1995). When moral commitments are vital for
ones self-understanding, and one commits to live in a
way that keeps faith with these identity-defining com-
mitments, one has a moral identity. Indeed, not to act in
accordance with ones identity is to put the integrity of
the self at risk. Not to act with what is essential, impor-
tant, and central to ones self-understanding is to risk
losing the self, a possibility that introduces a motiva-
tional property to the moral personality (Bergman,
2002; Blasi, 1999; Hardy & Carlo, 2005).
Blasi (2005) recently proposed a psychological ap-
proach to moral character that trades on these themes.
According to this view moral character is best described
not by reference to lower-order virtues, such as honesty,
New Approaches to Character Psychology 265
generosity, and humility, among numerous others, but
by three sets of higher-order virtues that include
willpower (as self-control), integrity, and moral desires.
Willpower as self-control is a toolbox of strategic and
metacognitive skills that allow one to break down prob-
lems, set goals, focus attention, delay gratification,
avoid distractions, and resist temptation. These virtues
are necessary to deal with obstacles that we encounter
invariably in the pursuit of long-range objectives. The
cluster of integrity virtues connects our commitments to
a sense of self and is responsible for feelings of respon-
sibility and identity. Integrity is felt as responsibility
when we constrain the self with intentional acts of self-
control, effort, and determination in the pursuit of our
moral desires; when we make the self conform to the
moral law out of a felt sense of necessity and obligation;
and when we hold the self accountable for the conse-
quences of actions. Integrity is felt as identity when a
person constructs the very meaning of the self by refer-
ence to moral categories. In this case, living out ones
moral commitments does not feel like a choice; living in
ways that offend what is central and essential about one-
self is unthinkable self-betrayal.
But the virtues of self-control and integrity do not
have inherent moral significance. Both are morally neu-
tral unless they are attached to moral desires. Both re-
quire a will that desires and tends toward the moral
good. The language of moral desires is distinctive of
Blasis (2005) theoretical system, but moral desires is
an expression he prefers to the closely related notion of
moral motivation, and for three reasons. First, the ex-
pression connotes an intensity of affect that connects to
traditional notions of character as that gives direction to
ones life. Second, insofar as moral desires clearly be-
long to a person, they are preferred over other psycho-
logical accounts that treat motivation as an impersonal
regulatory system or in terms of cybernetic models of
self-control. Third, the notion of desires aligns closely
with Frankfurts (1988) concept of will and his distinc-
tion between first- and second-order desires. A person
certainly has (first-order) desires, but one can also re-
flect on them, order them, and have desires about some
of them (second-order desires). One has a will when one
desires to implement and put into effective action that
which is a first-order desire. Here one transforms im-
pulses into something that is reflected on from a greater
psychological distance. The will is an intervention on
oneself that turns a first-order impulse into something
that can be rejected or accepted, and on this foundation
rests the possibility of a moral self if the distancing and
appropriating is governed by a consideration of the
moral good.
Blasis approach to moral self-identity is associated
with an important line of research on moral exemplars.
Colby and Damon (1992) interviewed 23 individuals
whose lives demonstrated exceptional moral commit-
ment in such areas as civil rights, civil liberties, poverty,
and religious freedom. Although the specific commit-
ments of each exemplar were a unique adaptation to the
situational challenges that each faced, one of the most
important common characteristics of exemplars was the
fact that moral goals were so closely aligned with per-
sonal goals. There was an identification of self with
moral commitments. Moral goals were central to their
self-understanding, to their sense of identity, to such a
degree that moral choices were not seen as a burden but
simply as a way to advance ones personal objectives.
Exemplars also were characterized by a sense of cer-
tainty and clarity about what was right and wrong, of
their own personal responsibility, and by a sense of opti-
mism about how things would turn out.
A similar theme is evident in the research by Hart and
his colleagues (Hart, Atkins, & Ford, 1998; Hart & Feg-
ley, 1995; Hart, Yates, Fegley, & Wilson, 1995), who
studied inner-city adolescents who had been nominated
by community organizations for their uncommon proso-
cial commitment. In contrast to matched comparison
adolescents, care exemplars more often included moral
goals and moral traits in their self-descriptions; and
ideal self-representations and parental representations
in their actual self-descriptions; articulated a mature
self-understanding whereby beliefs generated coherence
among elements of the self; and perceived continuity of
the self that extended from the remembered past into the
projected future. Moral exemplars also have been re-
ported to show advanced moral reasoning, more mature
faith and identity development, and an affinity toward
agreeableness (Matsuba & Walker, 2004).
In a separate line of research, Aquino and Reed
(2002) designed an instrument that measures the degree
to which having a moral identity is important to ones
self-conception. They assumed, following Blasi (1984,
1985), that moral identity varies in content and in the
degree to which moral traits are central to ones self-
understanding. They identified nine moral traits (car-
ing, compassionate, fair, friendly, generous, helpful,
hardworking, honest, kind) that individuals regard as
characteristic of a moral person, which then served as
266 Character Education
salience induction stimuli to activate a persons
moral identity when rating the self-importance of these
traits on their instrument. Factor analysis revealed two
factors: a Symbolization factor (the degree to which the
traits are reflected in ones public actions), and an In-
ternalization factor (the degree to which traits are cen-
tral to ones private self-concept).
Aquino and Reed (2002) showed that both dimensions
predict the emergence of a spontaneous moral self-
concept and self-reported volunteering, but that inter-
nalization showed the stronger relation to actual
donating behavior and to moral reasoning. Subsequent
research (Reed & Aquino, 2003) showed that individuals
with a strong internalized moral identity report a
stronger moral obligation to help and share resources
with outgroups, to perceive the worthiness of coming to
their aid, and to display a preferential option for out-
groups in actual donating behavior. Hence, individuals
with internalized moral identity are more likely to ex-
pand the circle of moral regard to include outgroup
members. Moreover, moral identity is thought to medi-
ate the relationship between deviant organizational
norms and deviant behavior. If moral identity is highly
salient in comparison to other identities within the self-
system, then internalized moral identity is likely to in-
hibit the motivation to respond to deviant norms within
the culture of organizations (R. J. Bennett, Aquino,
Reed, & Thau, in press). The authors have in mind em-
ployee behavior in business organizations, but there is
no reason to limit the identity-moderator hypothesis
solely to this context.
Research on moral self-identity and on the qualities
of individuals who demonstrate exceptional moral com-
mitment is a promising avenue for character psychology,
although the implications for character education are not
clearly understood. One implication of Blasis theory is
that character education should encourage children and
adolescents to develop the proper moral desires and
master the virtues of self-control and integrity. But how
is this possible? How do children develop self-control
and a wholehearted commitment to moral integrity?
There are intriguing clues about possible pathways to
moral identity from research on the development of con-
science in early childhood. For example, Kochanska and
her colleagues (Kochanska, 2002; Kochanska et al.,
2004; Kochanska, Aksan, & Koenig, 1995) proposed a
two-step model of emerging morality that begins with
the quality of parent-child attachment. A secure, mutu-
ally responsive relationship with caregivers character-
ized by shared, positive affect orients the child to be re-
ceptive to their influence and eager to comply with
parental suggestions, standards, and demands. This en-
courages wholehearted, willing, self-regulated, and
committed compliance on the part of the child to the
norms, values, and expectations of caregivers, which, in
turn, motivates moral internalization and the emergence
of conscience. The model moves, then, from security of
attachment to committed compliance to moral internal-
ization. Moreover, the childs experience of eager, will-
ing, and committed compliance with the parents
socialization agenda is presumed to influence the childs
emerging internal representation of the self:
Children who have a strong history of committed compli-
ance with the parent are likely gradually to come to view
themselves as embracing the parents values and rules.
Such a moral self, in turn, comes to serve as the regulator
of future moral conduct and, more generally, of early
morality. (Kochanska, 2002, p. 340)
Indeed, children are more likely to regulate their con-
duct in ways that are consistent with their internal work-
ing model of the self.
This model of the emergence of conscience in early
childhood suggests that the source of wholehearted com-
mitment to moral considerations, and the cultivation of
the proper moral desires characteristic of what Blasi re-
quires of a moral personality, lie in the mutual positive
affective relationship with socialization agents and the
quality of the childs network of interpersonal relation-
ships. The source of self-control, integrity, and moral
desires is deeply relational. It is motivated by the sense
of moral self-identity that emerges within a history of
secure attachment. If true, such a model underscores the
importance of school bonding (Catalano, Haggerty,
Oesterle, Fleming, & Hawkins, 2004; Libby, 2004; Mad-
dox & Prinz, 2003), caring school communities (Payne,
Gottfredson, & Gottfredson, 2003; Solomon, Watson,
Battistich, Schaps, & Delucchi, 1992), and attachment to
teachers (M. Watson, 2003) as a basis for prosocial and
moral development. For example, Payne et al. showed
that schools that were organized and experienced as a
caring community had higher levels of student bonding
to school and greater internalization of common norms
and goals, which, in turn, was related to less delin-
quency. Similarly, the Seattle Social Development Proj-
ect has documented its theoretical claim that strong
New Approaches to Character Psychology 267
bonds of attachment and commitment to school and clear
standards of behavior create a press toward behavior
consistent with these standards (Hawkins, Catalano,
Kosterman, Abbott, & Hill, 1999; Hawkins, Guo, Hill,
Battin-Pearson, & Abbott, 2001). Evidence from the
Child Development Project showed that elementary
school childrens sense of community leads them to
adhere to the values that are most salient in the class-
room (Solomon, Watson, Battistich, Schaps, & Delucchi,
1996). Moreover, perceptions of moral atmosphere
in high school promote prosocial and inhibit norms-
transgressive behavior (Brugman et al., 2003; Power,
Higgins, & Kohlberg, 1989). These findings are quite
close to Kochanskas model of early conscience devel-
opment: Secure attachment promotes committed compli-
ance, which leads to internalization of norms and
standards. Hence, there appears to be continuity in the
mechanisms of socialization in both families and
schools in early and middle childhood and adolescence.
The moral exemplar research holds out another goal
for character education, which is to encourage the sort
of prosocial commitment observed in care exemplars.
This would certainly be a welcome alternative to the
more typical understanding of character education as a
risk-and-deficits prevention program. How do individu-
als come to align personal goals with moral ones, or to
identify the actual self with ideal representations? One
mechanism suggested by Colby and Damon (1995) is
social influence. In their view, social influence plays a
decisive role in transforming personal goals into impor-
tant moral commitments. Social influence instigates
moral development. It provides a context for reappraisal
of ones current capabilities, guidance on how best to
extend ones capabilities, and the strategies required
to pull it off. For those who continually immerse them-
selves in moral concerns and in social networks ab-
sorbed by such concerns, goal transformation remains
the central architect of progressive change throughout
life (p. 344). Other mechanisms include participation
in voluntary organizations (C. Flanagan, 2004; Hart
et al., 1998), school attachment (Atkins, Hart, & Don-
nely, 2004), and service learning opportunities more
generally (Waterman, 1997; Youniss, McLellan, Su, &
Yates, 1999; Youniss, McLellan, & Yates, 1997; Youniss
& Yates, 1997).
These mechanisms may provide not just the means for
the transformation of personal into moral goals, but also
an opportunity for adolescents to experience other char-
acteristics of moral exemplars, such as coming to see
moral concerns with greater clarity, developing a
greater sense of personal responsibility for the welfare
of their communities, and developing a sense of opti-
mism and efficacy that personal effort pays off and
makes a difference. We will have more to say about
community service and service learning. But if these
mechanisms are critical to the formation of moral iden-
tity (Hart, 2005), then the challenge for character edu-
cators is how best to transform the culture of schools so
that they become places where social networks are ab-
sorbed by moral concerns, where attachment to school is
encouraged, where opportunities abound for broad par-
ticipation in the sort of voluntary associations that pre-
dict prosocial engagement with the community.
Models of Personality Psychology
One strategy for framing models of moral personality is
to appeal to the theoretical resources, constructs, and
mechanisms of personality psychology. Yet, personality
psychology is not a unified domain. According to Cer-
vone (1991), there are two disciplines of personality
psychology that are distinguished by how the basic units
of personality are conceptualized. One discipline favors
trait /dispositional constructs and understands personal-
ity structure in terms of between-person variation that
is described by top-down abstract latent variable tax-
onomies, such as the Big 5. The second discipline favors
cognitive-affective mechanisms, or social cognitive
units, and understands personality structure in terms of
bottom-up within-person processes (Cervone, 2005).
Each discipline of personality psychology is reflected in
recent attempts to understand the moral personality.
For example Walker and his colleagues examined the
personality structure of moral exemplars by reference
to the Big 5 trait dimensions. In one study (Walker &
Hennig, 2004, Study 2) prototype descriptors of moral
exemplars was examined with the interpersonal circum-
plex and the five-factor model of personality. The proto-
type of the just person was described as a moderate
blend of nurturance and dominance, and aligned with
conscientiousness and openness to experience. An ear-
lier study (Walker & Pitts, 1998) reported a relationship
between trait dimensions and three kinds of moral ex-
emplars. The brave exemplar was linked with a complex
of traits associated with extraversion; the caring exem-
plar was associated with agreeableness; while the just
268 Character Education
exemplar was a complex mixture of conscientiousness,
emotional stability, and openness to experience. Hart
(2005) reports an association between the care exemplar
and three of the Big 5 trait dimensions (openness to ex-
perience, agreeableness, and conscientiousness), while
Matsuba and Walker (2004) showed that the personality
structure of young adults who were nominated for their
moral exemplarity was characterized by traits associ-
ated with agreeableness.
In contrast to trait taxonomic approaches, we have
attempted to understand moral personality from the
perspective of social cognitive theory, the second disci-
pline of personality psychology (Lapsley & Narvaez,
2004; Narvaez & Lapsley, 2004). Social cognitive
theory draws attentions to cognitive-affective mecha-
nisms (scripts, schemas, prototypes, and other cognitive
frameworks) that influence social perception but also
serve to create and sustain patterns of individual differ-
ences. If schemas are readily primed and easily acti-
vated (chronically accessible), for example, then they
direct our attention selectively to certain features of our
experience at the expense of others. This selective fram-
ing disposes one to choose compatible or schema-
relevant life tasks, goals, and settings that are congruent
with ones social perceptions. Repeated selection of
schema-congruent tasks, goals, and settings serves over
time to canalize and sustain dispositional tendencies
and to result in highly practiced behavioral routines that
provide a ready, sometimes automatically available
plan of action in such life contexts (Cantor, 1990,
p. 738). According to Cantor, this makes one a virtual
expert in highly practiced regions of social experience
demarcated by chronically accessible schemas and al-
lows schemas to function as the cognitive carriers of
dispositions.
In our view, the moral personality can be understood
similarly in terms of the accessibility of moral schemas
for social information processing (Narvaez & Lapsley,
2005). A moral person, a person who has a moral char-
acter or identity, is one for whom moral constructs are
chronically accessible. These chronically accessible cat-
egories provide a dispositional preference or readiness
to discern the moral dimensions of experience, as well
as underwrite a discriminative facility in selecting situ-
ationally appropriate behavior. Recent research has
shown, for example, that moral chronicity is a dimension
of individual differences that influences spontaneous
trait inferences as well as the kind of evaluative moral
inferences that are generated when reading stories (Nar-
vaez, Lapsley, Hagele, & Lasky, in press). Moreover,
available constructs can be made accessible by situa-
tional priming as well as by chronicity, which combine
in an additive fashion to influence social perception
(Bargh, Bond, Lombardi, & Tota, 1986). This supports
the social cognitive view that dispositional coherence is
to be found at the intersection of person (chronicity) and
context (situational priming), and that stable behavioral
signatures are to be found in patterns of situational vari-
ability rather than cross-situational consistency (Mis-
chel, 2005; Shoda & Mischel, 2000).
A social cognitive approach to moral character has a
number of benefits. It provides an explanation for moral
identity. For Blasi (2005), one has a moral identity when
moral notions are central, essential, and important to
ones self-understanding. We would add that moral no-
tions that are central, essential, and important to self-
understanding would also be chronically accessible for
appraising the social landscape. The social cognitive
approach also accounts for at least one characteristic of
moral exemplars. As Colby and Damon (1992) have
shown, individuals who display extraordinary moral
commitment rarely report engaging in an extensive
decision-making process. Rather, they just knew what
was required of them, automatically as it were, without
recourse to elaborate and effortful cognitive exertion.
This is also experienced by exemplars as a kind of moral
clarity or as a felt conviction that ones judgments are
appropriate, justified, and true. Yet, this is precisely the
outcome of preconscious activation of chronically
accessible constructs: that it induces strong feelings of
certainty or conviction with respect to ones social judg-
ments (Bargh, 1989; Narvaez & Lapsley, 2005). More-
over, the automaticity of schema activation contributes
to the tacit, implicit qualities often associated with
Aristotelian and traditional understanding of the
habits of moral character. To put it differently, the
moral habits of virtue theory are social cognitive
schemas whose chronic accessibility favors automatic
activation.
One challenge for a social cognitive theory of moral
character is to specify the developmental sources of
moral chronicity. Indeed, our preference for the social
cognitive option reflects a strategic bet that it will more
likely lead to integrative developmental models of moral
personality than would the taxonomic approach (Nar-
vaez et al, in press). One speculation is that moral
personality development is built on the foundation of
generalized event representations, behavioral scripts,
Approaches to Character Education 269
and episodic memory that characterize early socioper-
sonality development (Kochanska & Thompson, 1997;
Lapsley & Narvaez, 2004; Thompson, 1998). Event rep-
resentations have been called the basic building blocks
of cognitive development (Nelson & Gruendel, 1981,
p. 131), and it is our contention that they are the founda-
tion as well of emergent moral character. They are work-
ing models of how social routines unfold and of what one
can expect of social experience. These prototypic
knowledge structures are progressively elaborated in the
early dialogues with caregivers who help children re-
view, structure, and consolidate memories in script-like
fashion (Fivush, Kuebli, & Chubb, 1992). But the key
characterological turn of significance for moral psychol-
ogy is how these early social cognitive units are trans-
formed from episodic into autobiographical memory.
Autobiographical memory is also a social construction
elaborated by means of dialogue within a web of inter-
locution. Parental interrogatives (What happened when
you pushed your sister?; Why did she cry?; What
should you do next?) help children organize events into
personally relevant autobiographical memories which
provide, as part of the self-narrative, action-guiding
scripts (I share with her and I say Im sorry) that
become frequently practiced, overlearned, routine, ha-
bitual, and automatic. These interrogatives might also
include moral character attributions so that the ideal or
ought self becomes part of the childs autobiographi-
cal narrative. In this way, parents help children identify
morally relevant features of their experience and en-
courage the formation of social cognitive schemas that
are chronically accessible (Lapsley & Narvaez, 2004).
Moreover, as Kochanskas (2002) model suggests, there
is every reason to suppose that this developmental pro-
cess is affected both by variations in the quality of the
parent-child relationship and its goodness-of-fit.
One implication of this account, and of Kochanskas
(2002) research on the emergence of conscience, is that
character education is not something that takes place
initially in schools as a formal curriculum, but rather is
embedded within the fabric of family life and early so-
cialization experiences. In the next section, we take up
school- and community-based programs that are of sig-
nificance to character education.
APPROACHES TOCHARACTEREDUCATION
In this section, we review promising or prominent
school- and community-based approaches to character
education. The range of programs that are claimed for
character education is quite diverse, and there are very
many of them. Our intention here is not to review the full
range of specific programs but to identify general cate-
gories of programs that make some claim for character
education. Some of the programs that we review might
also be considered examples of one or more of the 11
Principles of Effective Character Education (Lickona,
Schaps, & Lewis, 2003) adopted by the Character Edu-
cation Partnership (CEP). We begin our review by a con-
sideration of these principles given their prominence
among character educators.
Eleven Principles of Effective Character Education
The Character Education Partnership is a coalition of
organizations and individuals dedicated to helping
schools develop moral and character education pro-
grams. Many school districts embrace approaches to
character education that are guided by principles devel-
oped by the CEP. The first principle asserts that good
character is built on the foundation of core ethical val-
ues, such as caring, honesty, fairness, responsibility,
and respect. Sometimes core values (alternatively,
traits or virtues) are selected by school districts after
broad consultation with the community. More often,
the core values are those endorsed by national advo-
cacy organizations, such as the six pillars of charac-
ter (trustworthiness, respect, responsibility, fairness,
caring, citizenship) articulated by the Aspen Declara-
tion and the Character Counts movement. What is crit-
ical is that the values selected for character education
be universally valid, promote the common good, affirm
human dignity, contribute to the welfare of the individ-
ual, deal with issues of right and wrong, and facilitate
democratic practices.
Accordingly, programs should teach core values
holistically with cognitive, affective, and behavioral
components (Principle 2) and in a way that engages
school personnel in an intentional, proactive, and com-
prehensive way (Principle 3). It is particularly important
to create caring school communities (Principle 4) and to
provide students with opportunities to engage in moral
action, such as service learning and community service
(Principle 5). Effective character education does not
neglect rigorous, challenging academic curricula (Prin-
ciple 6). It fosters intrinsic motivation to do the right
thing by building a climate of trust and respect, by en-
couraging a sense of autonomy, and by building shared
270 Character Education
norms through dialogue, class meetings, and democratic
decision making (Principle 7). Moreover, the core values
that animate student life should engage the school staff
as well (Principle 8). For character education to take
root it must result in shared educational leadership that
makes provision for long-term support of the initiative
(Principle 9); it must engage families and community
stakeholders (Principle 10); and it must be committed to
ongoing assessment and evaluation (Principle 11).
This remarkable set of principles provides a useful
guidepost for the design and implementation of inten-
tional, programmatic, and comprehensive character ed-
ucation. It insists that ethical considerations be the
transparent rationale for programmatic activities and,
on this basis (e.g., Principle 3), would not support ef-
forts to broaden the definition of character education
to include all manner of prevention and intervention
programs absent an explicit, intentional concern for
moral development. It endorses a set of well-attested
pedagogical strategies that are considered educational
best practice, including cooperative learning, demo-
cratic classrooms, and constructivist approaches to
teaching and learning. It endorses practices that culti-
vate autonomy, intrinsic motivation, and community
engagement (Beland, 2003c). Indeed, the CEP Princi-
ples look like a blueprint for progressive education, and
would seem to settle the historical debate concerning
direct and indirect approaches to character education
in favor of the latter paradigm.
Yet, the Principles are not without their discontents.
Principle 1 insists on core values that are foundational,
objectively true, universally valid, immanent to human
dignity, and crucial to democratic practice, yet its eli-
sion of familiar anxieties about the source and selection
of favored values gives one pause. This insistence that
character education first be grounded on objectively
valid core values is, in our view, a misleading and un-
necessary distraction. It is misleading because it as-
sumes that practices are derived from principles rather
than the other way around (see, e.g., Carr, 1991). It is
distracting because it forces educators to defend a trans-
parent and intentional approach to the moral formation
of children on grounds other than its immanence and in-
evitability in the life of schools.
Moreover, the first Principle smuggles a premise into
character education; for example, that core values are
objectively true, foundational, and universally valid is
itself a deeply contentious matter for epistemology and
ethics, and attempts to settle an argument about ethical
relativism that it is ill equipped to address except by
dogmatic assertion.
But the necessity, inevitability, and desirability of
character education does not hinge on the outcome of
this argument. Indeed, to suggest that it does is to repeat
the mistake on the educational front that the cognitive
developmental tradition commits on the psychological
front. Just as Kohlberg (1981, 1983) attempted to use
stage theory to provide the psychological resources to
defeat ethical relativism, so, too, does the first Principle
of the Character Education Partnership attempt to take
up arms against the bogey of relativism on the educa-
tional front.
Although the Principles call for comprehensive infu-
sion of ethical concerns throughout the curriculum and
in all facets of school life, and although the Eleven Prin-
ciples Sourcebook (Beland, 2003c) encourages a variety
of pedagogical strategies that are compatible with best
instructional practice, we observe that not much of con-
temporary character education gets past the first Princi-
ple, or else reduces character education to simply
teaching about values and the meaning of trait words.
The broad school reform and commitment to best prac-
tice required by the remaining Principles are too often
neglected in favor of fussing over the meaning of words
denoting core values ( leaving aside the problem of how
one fills in the meaning of these words). The hard work
of character education is not learning about core value
words, but learning to engage the range of developmental
and educational experiences countenanced by the re-
maining Principles.
Although there is value in a first Principle that re-
quires educators to make explicit the moral implications
of school practices, it would be far better, in our view, if
CEPs first Principle articulated a commitment to a dis-
tinctly virtue-centered approach to education that gave
primacy to aretaic concerns about agents and flourish-
ing rather than Kantian concerns about universality and
objectivity. What is required as a first Principle is not a
disguised stance on the epistemological status of val-
uesthat certain of them are foundational, universal,
and objectively validbut a statement that makes ex-
plicit the ethical commitments immanent to educational
practices endorsed in the remaining Principles. The goal
of character education, in other words, is less about en-
listing children in the battle against ethical relativism,
and more about equipping them with the moral disposi-
Approaches to Character Education 271
tions and skills required for effective citizenship in a
liberal democracy.
A Conceptual Framework
We think there is a better way to make the case for
character education that has little to do with taking a
stance on the question of ethical foundations. The con-
ceptual framework for character education is adequately
anticipated by a commitment to a developmental systems
orientation. A developmental systems approach to char-
acter education draws attention to embedded and over-
lapping systems of influence that exist at multiple levels,
to the fact that dispositional coherence is a joint product
of personal and contextual factors that are in dynamic
interaction across the life course. As Masten (2003,
p. 172) put it, Dynamic multisystem models of human
learning, development and psychopathology are trans-
forming science, practice and policies concerned with
the health, success and well-being of children and the
adult citizens of society they will become. A credible
character education must resemble dynamic multisys-
tems models of development and be located within con-
temporary theoretical and empirical frameworks of
developmental science if it is going to understand ade-
quately the mechanisms of change, plasticity, preven-
tion, resilience, and the very conditions and possibilities
of what it means to flourishto live well the life that is
good for one to live.
Moreover, a developmental systems perspective al-
ready underwrites more specific approaches to youth
development. For example, Lerner and his colleagues
(Lerner, Dowling, & Anderson, 2003; Lerner, Fisher, &
Weinberg, 2000) make the case for thriving as a basis
for understanding the role of adaptive person-context
relations in human development. An integrated moral
and civic identity, they write, and a commitment to
society beyond the limits of ones own existence enables
thriving youth to be agents both in their own healthy de-
velopment and in the positive enhancement of other peo-
ple and of society (Lerner et al., 2003, p. 172). Indeed,
thriving and character education point to the same end,
as do other notions derived from developmental contex-
tualism, such as developmental assets, resilience, and
positive youth development. Moreover, developmental
contextualism provides not only a basis for understand-
ing the dispositional qualities of personality (charac-
ter ), but also a vision of what it means to flourish (e.g.,
thriving and positive development). These developmen-
tal considerations already carry the conceptual load for
understanding constructs that are crucial to broad con-
ceptualizations of character education and thus would
serve much better as a first principle of character educa-
tion than the CEPs current emphasis on foundational
core values.
Educating for Character
Lickona (1991a, 1991b, 1997, 2004) has developed an
integrative approach to character education that is
largely congruent with CEP principles. Along with a
commitment to core values, he also advocates a variety
of strategies that are broadly compatible with instruc-
tional best practice for elementary (Lickona, 1992) and
high schools (Lickona & Davidson, 2004). A distinction
is drawn between two aspects of character: performance
character and moral character. Performance character is
oriented toward mastery of tasks and includes such qual-
ities as diligence, perseverance, a positive attitude, and
a commitment to hard work. Performance character is
what is required to develop talents, skills, and compe-
tencies. Moral character, in turn, is a relational orienta-
tion that is concerned with qualities of integrity, caring,
justice, respect, and cooperation. It is an ethical com-
pass that guides the pursuit and expression of perfor-
mance character. If performance character makes it
possible to live a productive life, moral character is re-
quired to live an ethical life (Lickona & Davidson,
2004). Effective education should aim to develop both
aspects of character.
Lickona and Davidson (2004) recently articulated
seven principles of schools that effectively address ele-
ments of moral andperformance character. These schools:
1. Make the development of character the cornerstone of
the schools mission and identity.
2. Cultivate an ethical learning community that in-
cludes staff, students, and parents, who share re-
sponsibility for advancing the schools character
education mission.
3. Encourage the professional staff to form a profes-
sional ethical learning community to foster collabora-
tion and mutual support in advancing the ethical
dimensions of teaching and student development.
4. Align all school practices, including curriculum, dis-
cipline, and extracurricular activities, with the goals
of performance excellence and moral excellence.
272 Character Education
5. Use evaluation data to monitor progress in the devel-
opment of strength of character and to guide decision
making with respect to educational practices.
6. Integrate ethical material into the curriculum while
encouraging lifelong learning and a career orientation.
7. Treat classroom and schoolwide discipline as oppor-
tunities to support the ethical learning community by
emphasizing the importance of caring, accountabil-
ity, shared ownership of rules, and a commitment to
restitution.
One salutary feature of this framework is that it urges
schools to understand their educative mission in terms
of a moral framework. A second salutary feature is that
many of its instructional strategies are informed by the
research literatures of developmental and educational
psychology. It promotes, for example, instructional prac-
tices that encourage mastery motivation, metacognitive
instruction, and cooperative learning. It sanctions con-
structivist strategies that embrace the active participa-
tion of students in learning. It advocates strategies (e.g.,
dilemma discussion, just community) more commonly
associated with development of a moral education. In-
deed, many of the suggested practices that attempt to
link home and school, influence school culture, involve
community stakeholders, or capitalize on the unique de-
velopmental needs of students could be underwritten by
a developmental systems orientation.
Caring School Communities
The fourth of the CEPs Principles of Effective Charac-
ter Education states, Effective character education cre-
ates a caring school community. (Beland, 2003a, p. 1).
There is a strong consensus that effective character edu-
cation must include efforts to promote communities of
caring in classrooms and schools (Battistich, Solomon,
Watson, & Schaps, 1997; Berkowitz & Bier, 2005). A
school climate that encourages social and emotional
bonding and promotes positive interpersonal experi-
ences is one that provides the minimum necessary
grounding for the formation of character (Schaps, Bat-
tistich, & Solomon, 1997). Indeed, as Berkowitz (2002,
pp. 5859) put it, Relationships are critical to charac-
ter education, so character education must focus on the
quality of relationships at school.
Research has shown, for example, that the quality of
early teacher-student relationships can have a strong
influence on academic and social outcomes that persist
through eighth grade (Hamre & Pianta, 2001). More-
over, in schools where there is a strong perception of
communal organization there is less student miscon-
duct (Bryk & Driscoll, 1988) and lower rates of drug
use and delinquency (Battistich & Hom, 1997). Stu-
dent attachment or bonding to school also improves
school motivation (Goodenow, 1993) and counterindi-
cates delinquency (Welsh, Greene, & Jenkins, 1999)
and victimization of teachers and students (Gottfred-
son & Gottfredson, 1985). In a study of a nationally
representative sample of 254 high schools, Payne et al.
(2003) found a connection between communal organi-
zation and student bonding to school. Schools charac-
terized by communal organization, that is, by mutually
supportive relationships among teachers, administra-
tors, and students, a commitment to common goals and
norms, and a sense of collaboration, tend to have stu-
dents who report an attachment to school (an emotional
bond to teachers or school and a sense of belonging), a
belief in the legitimacy of rules and norms, and a high
value placed on schoolwork. Moreover, bonding to
school was related, in turn, to lower levels of student
misconduct and victimization. Payne et al. suggested
that by improving the relationships among school
members, the collaboration and participation of these
members and the agreement on common goals and
norms, schools could increase students attachment to
school, commitment to education and belief in school
rules and norms (p. 773) and thereby reduce miscon-
duct, delinquency, and victimization.
The work of two research teams, the Social Develop-
ment Research Group at the University of Washington
and the Child Development Project of the Developmen-
tal Studies Center (Oakland, CA), has provided particu-
larly impressive evidence on the role of school bonding
and caring school communities for a range of outcomes
of interest to character educators.
Social Development Research Group
This group launched the Seattle Social Development
Project (SSDP) in 1981 in eight Seattle public elemen-
tary schools. The project initially provided an interven-
tion to first-grade pupils, but the program expanded by
1985 to include all fifth-grade students in 18 elementary
schools, with additional intervention components that
targeted parents and teachers as well. The longitudinal
assessments of participants continued throughout ado-
lescence and subsequently every 3 years after gradua-
tion until age 27. The SSDP was guided by a social
Approaches to Character Education 273
development model that assumes that behavior is learned
within social environments. One becomes socialized
within the norms of a social group to the extent that (a)
one perceives opportunities for involvement, ( b) be-
comes actually involved, (c) has the skill for involvement
and interaction, and (d) perceives that it is rewarding to
do so. When socialization goes well, a social bond of at-
tachment and commitment is formed. This social bond,
in turn, orients the child to the norms and expectations
of the group to which one is attached and to the values
endorsed by the group. It is hypothesized that the be-
havior of the individual would be prosocial or antisocial
depending on the predominant behaviors, norms and
values held by those individuals and institutions to
which/whom the individual bonded (Catalano, Hag-
gerty, et al., 2004, p. 251).
The SSDP included interventions that targeted three
primary socialization agents of school-age children:
teachers, parents, and peers. Teachers were given train-
ing in proactive classroom management, interactive
teaching to motivate learners, and cooperative learning.
The intervention for children targeted social and emo-
tional skill development, including interpersonal cogni-
tive problem-solving skills and refusal skills. Parent
training targeted behavior management, how to give aca-
demic support, and skills to reduce risk for drug use.
Research showed that training teachers to use tar-
geted teaching practices was successful in promoting
both school bonding and academic achievement (Abbott
et al., 1998). Moreover, the SSDP demonstrated long-
term positive effects on numerous adolescent health-risk
behaviors (e.g., violent delinquency, heavy drinking,
sexual intercourse, having multiple sex partners, preg-
nancy, and school misconduct) and on school bonding
(Hawkins, Catalano, Kosterman, Abbott, & Hill, 1999;
Hawkins, Guo, Hill, Battin-Pearson, & Abbott, 2001).
For example, school bonding at grade 12 and increases in
school bonding between grades 7 and 12 was negatively
correlated with use of alcohol, cigarettes, marijuana,
and other drug use at grade 12. Students bonded to
school at grades 5 and 6 were less likely to become minor
or major offenders in middle school. Students with a
lower sense of school attachment and commitment were
twice as likely to join gangs as were students with a
stronger sense of school bonding. Moreover, school
bonding also had positive academic outcomes. For exam-
ple, an increase in school bonding between grades 7 and
12 was associated with higher GPA and lower student
misconduct at grade 12. Students with greater bonding
to school at grade 8 were less likely to drop out of school
by grade 10 (see Catalano, Berglund, Ryan, Lonczak, &
Hawkins, 2004, for a review).
Thus, the intensive, multicomponent interventions of
the SSDP had clear effects on school bonding and on a
range of outcomes of traditional interest to character ed-
ucators, including substance use, delinquency, gang
membership, violence, academic problems, and sexual
activity. But is this character education? It depends on
whether character education is defined by treatment or
by outcomes. The SSPD has generated empirical out-
comes that are claimed for character education broadly
defined, although the SSPD treatment is guided by
the theoretical considerations of the social development
model and not of virtue, morality, or character. Still, if
character education is to be considered a treatment or
intervention in its own right, then it must possess the
characteristics of successful interventions like the
SSDP: It must be guided by explicit theory; it must be
comprehensive; it must involve multiple components;
and it must be initiated early in development and sus-
tained over time.
Developmental Studies Center
The Developmental Studies Center (DSC) has been par-
ticularly influential in documenting the crucial role that
childrens sense of community plays in promoting a wide
range of outcomes commonly associated with character
education, including altruistic, cooperative, and helping
behavior, concern for others, prosocial conflict resolu-
tion, and trust in and respect for teachers (Solomon,
Watson, Delucchi, Schaps, & Battistich, 1988; M. Wat-
son, Battistich, & Solomon, 1997). The research agenda
of the DSC assumed that children have basic needs for
belonging, autonomy, and competence and that their en-
gagement with school depends on whether these needs
are adequately met (Battistich et al., 1997). It was as-
sumed further that when childrens needs are met
through membership in a school community, they are
likely to become affectively bonded with and committed
to the school, and therefore inclined to identify with and
behave in accordance with its expressed goals and val-
ues (Schaps et al., 1997, p. 127).
In 1982, the DSC initiated the Child Development
Project (CDP) in three program schools in suburban San
Francisco to examine these core assumptions. It was
first implemented by teachers in kindergarten, with one
grade level added each year until 1989. Program evalua-
tion followed the cohort annually from kindergarten to
274 Character Education
sixth grade, with a 2-year follow-up assessment when
the program cohort was in eighth grade. The evaluation
also included students and teachers from three demo-
graphically similar comparison schools.
The programmatic focus of the CDP was designed to
enhance prosocial development by creating the condi-
tion for a caring school community (Battistich et al.,
1997). A sense of community was encouraged through
activities such as collaborating on common academic
goals; providing and receiving help from others; discus-
sion and reflection on the experiences of self and others
as these relate to prosocial values such as fairness, so-
cial responsibility, and justice; practicing social compe-
tencies; and exercising autonomy by participating in
decisions about classroom life and taking responsibility
for it. Moreover, the CDP encouraged an approach to
classroom management that emphasized induction and
developmental discipline (M. Watson, 2003).
Hence, the CDP provided numerous opportunities for
children to collaborate with others in the pursuit of com-
mon goals, to give and receive help, to discuss and re-
flect on prosocial values, to develop and practice
prosocial skills, and to exercise autonomy through dem-
ocratic classroom structures.
Research studies of CDP implementations indicate
that in comparison to control schools, students make
positive gains in targeted areas. In classroom observa-
tions, individual interviews, and student questionnaires,
program students exhibited more prosocial behavior
in the classroom (Solomon et al., 1988), more demo-
cratic values and interpersonal understanding (Solomon,
Watson, Schaps, Battistich, & Solomon, 1990), and more
social problem-solving and conflict resolution skills
(Battistich, Solomon, Watson, Solomon, & Schaps,
1989). Students in CDP schools were more likely to
view their classrooms as communities, which led them
to adhere to whatever norms and values were salient in
the classroom. For example, in classrooms that empha-
sized teacher control and student compliance, student
reasoning about prosocial dilemmas was oriented toward
heteronomy and reward and punishment. In contrast, in
classrooms that emphasized student participation, au-
tonomy, democratic decision making, and interpersonal
concerns, student prosocial reasoning emphasized au-
tonomy and other-oriented moral reasoning (Solomon
et al., 1992, 1996). When program and control students
entered the same intermediate school, former program
students were rated higher by teachers at eighth grade in
conflict resolution skills, self-esteem, assertion, and
popularity (Solomon, Watson, & Battistich, 2002).
The most important variable positively influenced by
participation in CDP programs is students sense of
community, which is promoted through structures of the
classroom and the school (Watson et al., 1997). For ex-
ample, teachers who hold class meetings, use coopera-
tive learning strategies, and discuss prosocial values are
more likely to foster a sense of community in students.
Schools that provide cross-age buddies, homework that
links school and family, and schoolwide projects also
promote a sense of community. Student sense of commu-
nity is positively related to self-reported concern for
others, conflict resolution skills, altruistic behavior, in-
trinsic prosocial motivation, trust in and respect for
teachers, enjoyment of helping others learn, and positive
interpersonal behavior and academic engagement (Bat-
tistich, Solomon, Watson, & Schaps, 1996; M. Watson,
Battistich, & Solomon, 1997).
Other Approaches
Other approaches have focused similarly on building a
sense of community within classrooms and schools. For
example, the Dont Laugh at Me curriculum attempts to
sensitize children to the painful effects of peer ridicule,
ostracism, and bullying and to help them transform their
classroom and school into ridicule-free zones charac-
terized by a climate of respect. A recent efficacy study
using a within-school quasi-experimental methodology
showed that program participants (fourth and fifth
graders) reported significant gains in a psychological
sense of school membership, increases in quality of rela-
tional experiences and in the desire to stop dissing and
ridicule, and declines in bullying, compared to young-
sters in the control group (Mucherah, Lapsley, Miels, &
Horton, 2004).
Similarly, the Resolving Conflicts Creatively Pro-
gram (RCCP) attempts to build peaceable schools and
classrooms through an emphasis on conflict resolution
and positive communication skills (Lantieri & Patti,
1996). The curriculum cultivates a selected set of skills
that target conflict resolution, cooperation, caring, ap-
preciating diversity and countering bias, responsible de-
cision making, and appropriate expression of feelings.
The curriculum emphasizes the importance of adults
coaching these skills as students practice them across a
variety of contexts. Students learn to give I messages
about their feelings, listen actively to others, mediate
peer conflict, and become interculturally competent. An
evaluation of RCCP performed by the National Center
for Children in Poverty at Columbia University (Aber,
Brown, & Heinrich, 1999; Aber, Pedersen, Brown, Jones,
Approaches to Character Education 275
& Gershoff, 2003) showed that students from grades 2
through 6 who were involved in an average of 25 lessons
per year had a significantly slower growth rate in self-
reported hostile attributions, aggressive fantasies, and
greater problem-solving strategies than students who re-
ceived fewer lessons. High-exposure students also
showed greater improvement on academic achievement
scores in the 2-year study.
Service Learning and Community Service
As we have seen, classroom practices that include demo-
cratic cooperation, problem solving, and decision mak-
ing encourage the cultivation of skills and dispositions
that are crucial for citizenship, and hence are an impor-
tant component of character education. The fifth of the
CEPs Principles of Effective Character Education (Be-
land, 2003c) urges schools to provide students with op-
portunities for moral action. In some sense, democratic
classrooms include important moral lessons concerning
fair play, civility, civic friendship, and cooperation.
Children learn how to sustain moral conversation in the
context of joint decision making. They develop a delib-
erative competence (Guttman, 1987) in solving prob-
lems, resolving conflict, establishing shared norms,
balancing perspectives, and other skills crucial for ef-
fective citizenship (Power et al., 1989a). But the effort
to cultivate democratic dispositions and a sense of com-
munity within classrooms is being joined by efforts to
connect students to the larger community through ser-
vice learning and community service.
According to Tolman (2003):
Service learning is rooted in the notion that acts of doing
good for othersanything from cleaning up neighbor-
hoods, to teaching younger students, to spending time with
elderly community membersare the basis for significant
learning experiences, for community development and for
social change. (p. 6)
Service learning is distinguished from community ser-
vice by the degree to which it links service activities to
clearly defined learning objectives and to an academic
curriculum (Pritchard, 2002). Both kinds of activities
are now a ubiquitous and pervasive feature of American
education. A national survey conducted by the National
Center for Educational Statistics estimates that 64% of
all public schools, including 87% of public high schools,
had students participating in community service activi-
ties. About a third of these organized service learning
as part of their curriculum, which is typically justified
by the desire to strengthen relationships among stu-
dents, the school, and the community (Skinner & Chap-
man, 1999).
The desire to strengthen connections among
home, school, and community is supported by ecologi-
cal perspectives on human development. There are
adaptational advantages for children whose develop-
mental ecology is characterized by a richly connected
mesosytem (Bronfenbrenner, 1979). Indeed, Warter
and Grossman (2002) appeal to developmental contex-
tualism to provide a justification for the specific case
of service learning and its implementation. Yates and
Youniss (1996b; Youniss & Yates, 1997) argue simi-
larly for a developmental perspective on service learn-
ing that is strongly influenced by Eriksons (1968)
conceptualization of identity. According to this view,
service learning opportunities provide an important
context for helping adolescents sort out identity issues.
For Erikson, identity work requires psychosocial reci-
procity between the characteristics, identifications,
and ideals of the young person and the affirmation of
the community that give these choices significance and
meaning. Identity is deeply characteristic of persons,
to be sure, but like dispositional coherence of any kind,
it plays out in dynamic interaction with community,
culture, and context. In this way, identity is compatible
with the person-context interactionism that is charac-
teristic of a developmental systems approach.
Research has documented outcomes that are of in-
terest to character education. Service learning experi-
ences and participation in voluntary organizations
increase ones sense of social agency, responsibility for
the moral and political dimensions of society, and gen-
eral moral-political awareness (Youniss et al., 1997).
Indeed, youth who participate in service experiences
often report significant transformation in personal val-
ues and orientations, an increased civic-mindedness
and sense of social responsibility, along with enhanced
learning and better grades (Markus, Howard, & King,
1993; Pancer & Pratt, 1999; Pratt, Hunsberger, Pancer,
& Alisat, 2003; Scales, Blyth, Berkas, & Kielsmeier,
2000). They report higher levels of trust and more pos-
itive views of others in their communities (Hilles &
Kahle, 1985). Similar findings were reported in na-
tional evaluations of two federally funded national ser-
vice learning initiatives (Serve America, Learn and
Serve). Melchior and Bailis (2002) report, for example,
positive effects of service learning on the civic atti-
tudes of adolescents. In addition, there was a reduction
in school absenteeism for program participants and a
276 Character Education
lower incidence of teenage pregnancy. High school par-
ticipants showed more school engagement, better math
and science achievement, and a lower incidence of
course failure. Middle school participants did more
homework, got better grades in social studies, and got
into serious legal and disciplinary problems less often.
Moreover, service learning and community service
may be critical to political socialization and the process
of forming a moral-civic identity (C. Flanagan, 2004;
Yates & Youniss, 1999a). In one study, Yates and
Youniss (1996a) examined the reflective narratives of
Black parochial high school juniors who worked at a
soup kitchen for the homeless as part of a service learn-
ing commitment. Over the course of a year, the re-
searchers noticed that these youth came to invest their
service with greater meaning and at a higher level of
transcendence. Initially, participants tended to view the
homeless in terms of stereotypes; then, at a higher level
of transcendence, they started to think about the conse-
quences of homelessness for their own life, or to com-
pare the lot of the homeless to theirs; finally, they were
able to reflect on homelessness from the perspective
of social justice or in terms of appropriate political ac-
tion. Over the course of a year, then, serving the home-
less in a soup kitchen motivated reflective judgments
about weighty matters of justice, responsibility, and po-
litical engagement.
In addition to promoting moral-civic identity, there is
evidence that participation in service activities and vol-
untary organizations also increases civic participation
in later adulthood (Youniss et al., 1997). Indeed,
C. Flanagan (2004, p. 725) argued that membership in
community-based organizations, along with extracurric-
ular activities at school, provides a sense of place
wherein youth develop an affection for the polity.
Affection for the polity, she writes, and engagement
in community affairs are logical extensions of the sense
of connection youth develop from involvement in
community-based organizations (p. 725).
Service learning and community service, then, are
significant components of a schools commitment to
character education (Hart, 2005). They are justified on
the grounds that service significantly transforms moral-
civic identity and predicts civic engagement in later
adulthood (Youniss &Yates, 1999), both of which are
foundational goals of character education. Of course,
much depends on how service learning is implemented.
It is generally agreed that successful service learning
programs include opportunities for significant student
reflection as part of the experience. Matching students
to projects consistent with their interests and holding
them accountable for outcomes but giving them auton-
omy in selecting goals are also important program ele-
ments (Stukas, Clary, & Snyder, 1999; Warter &
Grossman, 2002). There is evidence that service learn-
ing is particularly effective at high school compared to
middle school, and that positive outcomes are most
likely to be evident in areas directly related to the ser-
vice learning experience (Melchior & Bailis, 2002).
Positive Youth Development
We noted earlier that a developmental systems approach
(Lerner et al., 2003) might well serve as a conceptual
framework for character education, as opposed to the
current epistemological preoccupation with core values.
A developmental systems orientation is foundational to
the positive youth development perspective that has
emerged as a counter to a risks-and-deficits model of
adolescent development. Although adolescents certainly
do face risks and obstacles, there is an emerging consen-
sus that effort to ameliorate risk exposure, overcome
deficits, or prevent problems is not sufficient to prepare
young people adequately for the competencies that will
be required of them for successful adaptation to adult-
hood. The mantra of positive youth development is
Problem-free is not fully prepared. Children and ado-
lescents must be equipped with the strengths that will
allow them to thrive, be resilient, take initiative, and
contribute productively to society (Larson, 2000). This
will require programmatic efforts to help children
develop what Lerner (2001, 2002) calls the 5Cs of
positive youth development : competence, confidence,
character, caring and compassion, and connection to the
institutions of civil society.
The work of the Search Institute on the developmen-
tal assets is one instantiation of this general approach
(Benson, Scales, Leffert, & Roehlkepartain, 1999;
Scales & Leffert, 1999). Developmental assets are those
features of a developmental system that promote posi-
tive outcomes. Forty assets have been identified on the
basis of research, 20 of which are external and contex-
tual, and 20 of which are internal and personal. The ex-
ternal assets are grouped into four categories: support
(assets 1 to 6), empowerment (assets 7 to 10), bound-
aries and expectations (assets 11 to 16), and construc-
tive use of time (assets 17 to 20). These refer to the
positive developmental experiences that result from the
Approaches to Character Education 277
network of relationships that youth have with adults in
their family, school, and community. The internal assets
are grouped similarly into four categories: commitment
to learning (assets 21 to 25), positive values (assets 26
to 31), social competencies (assets 32 to 36), and posi-
tive identity (assets 37 to 40). These refer to endogenous
skills, dispositions, and interests that emerge over the
course of education and development.
In many ways, the developmental assets approach al-
ready constitutes a richly articulated conceptual frame-
work for character education that has little need for
epistemological wrangling over foundational core values.
Virtually all of the internal assets are familiar targets of
character education, such as the positive values assets
(caring, equality and social justice, integrity, honesty,
responsibility), social competency assets (decision mak-
ing, interpersonal competence, cultural competence, re-
sistance skills, conflict resolution), and identity assets
(personal power, self-esteem, sense of purpose, positive
view). The external assets are similarly crucial for any
comprehensive approach to character education insofar
as it targets sources of mesosytem support for positive
development (e.g., family support, caring schools and
neighborhoods, parental involvement in schooling), ways
to empower youth (perceptions of communal support,
service learning), the importance of setting appropriate
boundaries and expectations (e.g., adult role models, pos-
itive peer influence, and high expectations), and con-
structive use of time (e.g., creative activities, youth
programs, participation in a religious community, and
time spent at home away from peer influence).
Moreover, all of the CEP Principles of Effective
Character Education (Beland, 2003c), save the first
Principle, are well in evidence among the 40 develop-
mental assets. Principle 10 is of particular interest. It
states, Effective character education engages families
and community members as partners in the character-
building effort (Beland, 2003b). The Search Institute
has argued similarly that the success of positive youth
development depends on community resolve to construct
the building blocks (assets) of its developmental infra-
structure. However, communities vary in the assets that
are available to support positive youth development
(Benson et al., 1999).
One study assessed the perceived availability of as-
sets in a 19961997 survey of more than 99,000 youth in
grades 6 through 12 from 213 cities and towns across
the United States (Benson, Leffert, Scales, & Blyth,
1998). In this sample, 62% of adolescents experience at
most half of the developmental assets associated with
positive youth development. The mean number of assets
for the aggregate sample was 18, and the least and most
affluent communities in the sample differed by only
three assets (in favor of the more affluent community),
indicating that students typically experience less than
half of the developmental assets and that even wealthy
communities have work to do on building their develop-
mental infrastructure. Notably, from the perspective of
positive youth development and character education,
three of the least experienced assets are a caring school,
youth being treated as a resource, and community valu-
ing youth (Scales, 1999).
Benson et al. (1998) reported dramatic differences in
the percentage of youth with low (0 to 10) and high (31
to 40) assets who engage in risk behavior: Low asset
youth are more likely than high asset youth to use alco-
hol (53% versus 3%); to smoke tobacco (45% versus
1%); to use illicit drugs at least 3 or more times in the
past year (45% versus 1%); to have had sexual inter-
course at least 3 or more times (42% versus 1%); to re-
port frequent depression or to have made a suicide
attempt (40% versus 4%); to report at least 3 incidents
of antisocial behavior (52% versus 1%); to engage in at
least 3 acts of violence (61% versus 6%); to report
school problems (43% versus 2%); to drink and drive
(42% versus 4%) and gamble (34% versus 6%). The
conclusion is inescapable: Youth who report fewer devel-
opmental assets tend to engage in more risk behavior;
youth who report more assets engage in fewer risk be-
haviors (see also Oman et al., 2004). Moreover, youth
who are more vulnerable, that is, who have more deficits
and risk factors (e.g., experience physical abuse, vio-
lence, unsupervised time), profit the most from assets
(Scales, 1999).
Benson et al. (Benson, Leffert, Scales, & Blyth,
1998) also report a strong connection between asset lev-
els and thriving factors. High asset youth are more
likely than low asset youth to report getting mostly As
in school (53% versus 7%); to place a high value on cul-
tural diversity (87% versus 34%); to help friends or
neighbors at least 1 hour a week (96% versus 69%); to
be a leader in a group or organization in the past year
(87% versus 48%); to resist doing dangerous things
(43% versus 6%); to delay gratification by saving money
rather than spending it right away (72% versus 27%);
and to overcome adversity and not give up when things
get tough (86% versus 57%). Although not as dramatic
in every instance as in the comparison of risk behavior,
278 Character Education
these data indicate that youth who report the fewest as-
sets also report fewer thriving factors and, conversely,
that youth who report more developmental assets also
report more thriving indicators.
These data underscore the importance of Principle 10
for effective character education. It requires a funda-
mental mobilization of the community. There must be
an intentional commitment to become an asset-building
community, to construct the developmental infrastruc-
ture to support the positive development of all youth.
The Search Institute suggests some core principles of
asset-building communities. There must be broad col-
laboration among all of the socializing systems within a
community. The community initiative must be compre-
hensive; it should seek to promote all 40 assets and not
just a subset. It should promote the civic engagement not
just of traditional leaders but of all the residents within
the boundaries of a community. It should involve youth
as partners with adults.
Many adolescents participate in largely community-
based youth programs that are guided by a positive
youth development orientation. Roth and Brooks-Gunn
(2003) surveyed 71 youth-serving organizations to de-
termine the characteristics of programs designed to pro-
mote healthy adolescent development. Consistent with
the youth development philosophy, 77% of the programs
said that their primary goal was to build competencies;
54% also indicated prevention goals. However, preven-
tion goals were strongly in evidence when asked specif-
ically about whether the program was designed as
prevention against high risk behaviors, such as substance
abuse (76%), school dropout (63%), violence (73%),
and gang activity (59%). Interestingly, not one of the
youth development programs apparently viewed their
competency-building and prevention work in terms of
moral or character development.
Another perspective is what adolescents themselves
report learning in organized youth activities. In one
study (D. M. Hanson, Larson, & Dworkin, 2003), 450
adolescents in a medium-size, ethnically diverse school
responded to the Youth Experiences Survey (YES),
which asks respondents to report their experiences in
several domains (identity, initiative, basic emotional,
cognitive, and physical skills, teamwork and social
skills, interpersonal relatedness, connections with
adults, and negative experiences). Learning in these
contexts was compared against hanging out with
friends and with academic classes. The results showed
that organized youth activities were a better context for
learning initiative skills (e.g., goal setting, problem
solving, effort, time management), exploring identity
and reflection, and learning to manage anger, anxiety,
and stress than hanging out with friends or taking re-
quired classes. Moreover, adolescents reported learning
about teamwork, social, and leadership skills in organ-
ized youth activities. Interesting learning differences
emerged among program activities. For example, the de-
velopment of identity, prosocial norms, and ties to the
community were said to be learned in faith-based,
community service, and vocational activities, but par-
ticipation in sports was associated with mostly gains in
personal development (e.g., self-knowledge, physical
skills, and emotional regulation) but not teamwork, so-
cial skills, prosocial norms, or positive peer interac-
tions. Perhaps the competitive nature of sports works
against the development of skills required for interper-
sonal competence (see Shields & Bredemeier, 2005).
Two reviews have attempted to gauge the effective-
ness of youth development programs. Roth, Brooks-
Gunn, Murray, and Foster (1998) examined 15 program
evaluations that met criteria for methodological rigor.
Six programs largely met the goals of the positive youth
development framework by focusing on competency and
asset building. Six programs were designed as preven-
tions against specific problem behaviors, albeit by
strengthening competencies and assets. Three programs
were preventions designed to teach skills for avoiding
risk behaviors (e.g., assertiveness training, peer resist-
ance, planning for the future) and were the least repre-
sentative of the ideal youth development program.
In general, all 15 programs showed evidence of effec-
tiveness, although a number of general distinctions
emerged. For example, programs that are more compre-
hensive and sustained tend to result in better outcomes.
Program effectiveness was also linked to the continuity
of caring adult-youth relationships and the extent and
quality of youth engagement with program activities.
Catalano, Berglund, et al. (2004) identified 25 pro-
grams that addressed one or more positive youth
development constructs (e.g., bonding, resilience, so-
cioemotional, cognitive, behavioral or moral compe-
tence, self-efficacy, self-determination, spirituality,
identity, belief in the future, recognition for positive
behavior, prosocial norms, and prosocial involvement)
in multiple socialization domains (or many constructs
in a single domain), using children from the general or
at-risk population ( but not in treatment). These studies
also met strong methodological criteria. The analysis
of program characteristics showed that effective pro-
grams addressed a minimum of five positive youth de-
Approaches to Character Education 279
velopment constructs. Competence, self-efficacy, and
prosocial norms were addressed in all 25 programs; op-
portunities for prosocial involvement, recognition
for positive behavior, and bonding were noted in over
75% of the programs; and positive identity, self-
determination, belief in the future, resiliency, and spir-
ituality were noted in 50% of the programs. Effective
programs also measured both positive and problem out-
comes, had a structured curriculum and frequent youth
contact for at least 9 months, and took steps to ensure
fidelity of implementation.
Social-Emotional Learning
We noted earlier that a developmental systems orienta-
tion that focused on positive youth development would
constitute a powerful conceptual framework for charac-
ter education. A similar claim can be made for social-
emotional learning (SEL). The Collaborative to
Advance Social and Emotional Learning (CASEL) has
developed a unifying framework to promote the develop-
ment of important competencies that both enhance
strengths and prevent problem behaviors (Graczyk et al.,
2000; Payton et al., 2000; Weissberg & Greenberg,
1998). Its focus on competence and prevention place it
well within the positive youth development framework
(Catalano, Hawkins, Berglund, Pollard, & Arthur,
2002), although its long-standing concern with school-
based implementation makes it particularly attractive
for character education (CASEL, 2003; Elias, Zins,
Graczyk, & Weissberg, 2003; Elias et al., 1997). Indeed,
CASEL insists that effective programming for SEL
competencies has an instructional component with well-
designed and organized lesson plans that are sequenced
in a coherent curriculum that is programmatic over con-
secutive grades (Payton et al., 2000), as well as broad
parent and community involvement in planning, imple-
mentation, and evaluation (Weissberg & OBrien, 2004).
The key SEL competencies identified by CASEL in-
clude self-other awareness (awareness and management
of feeling, realistic self-assessment of abilities, perspec-
tive taking), self-management (self-regulation of emo-
tions, setting goals, persevering in the face of obstacles),
responsible decision making (identifying problems, dis-
cerning social norms, accurate and critical appraisal of
information, evaluation solutions, taking responsibility
for decisions), and relationship skills (cooperation,
expressive communication, negotiation, refusal, help
seeking, and conflict resolution skills). All of these com-
petencies are familiar targets of character education.
A substantial research base links these competencies
to effective and adaptive functioning and to prevention of
risk behavior. For example, evidence cited earlier for the
Child Development Project and the Seattle Social Devel-
opment Project are claimed as support for school-based
SEL objectives (Greenberg et al., 2003; Weissberg &
OBrien, 2004). Similarly, a substantial literature shows
that programs that address SEL competencies are effec-
tive in preventing problem behaviors (Durlak & Wells,
1997; D. B. Wilson, Gottfredson, & Najaka, 2001), drug
use (Tobler et al., 2000), and violence (Greenberg &
Kusche, 1998; Greenberg, Kusche, Cook, & Quamma,
1995). SEL is also a strong predictor of academic out-
comes (Elias et al., 2003). One study showed, for exam-
ple, that the best predictor of eighth-grade academic
achievement was not third-grade academic achievement
but indices of social competence (Caprara, Barbanelli,
Pastorelli, Bandura, & Zimbardo, 2000).
One crucial issue that CASEL has taken on concerns
program implementation and sustainability. As Elias
et al. (2003, p. 308) put it, Even widely acclaimed
evidence-based approaches to classroom organization
and instruction that integrate both academics and SEL
are dependent for their success on the delivery systems
into which they are embedded. We review various im-
plementation issues in a later section.
Character and Higher Education
Character education does not end with high school. In-
deed, a developmental systems perspective on moral char-
acter would lead us to expect opportunities for dynamic
change across the life course. Although there has been
comparatively less programmatic emphasisor research on
character development in postsecondary institutions,
there are notable recent efforts to explore the contribu-
tions of the collegiate experience to the moral formation
of undergraduates (e.g., Colby, Ehrlich, Beaumont, &
Stephens, 2003; Mentkowski & Associates, 2000). One
survey, for example, identified an honor roll of 134 col-
leges and universities to serve as exemplars of character-
building institutions (Schwartz & Templeton, 1997;
Sweeney, 1997). These institutions emphasized students
moral reasoning skills, community-building experiences,
and spiritual growth, while advocating for a drug-free en-
vironment. They also conducted critical assessments of
their character-building assets and programs.
The emphasis on moral reasoning skills is premised on
the expectation that the critical engagement and inquiry
that is ideally characteristic of postsecondary education
280 Character Education
will stimulate moral deliberation to higher stages of com-
plexity. Indeed, one of the best-documented changes that
results from the collegiate experience is a significant in-
crease in the quality and complexity of moral reasoning
(Pascarella & Terenzini, 1991), demonstrating the effect
of college on humanizing values and attitudes concern-
ing the rights and welfare of others (Pascarella & Teren-
zini, 2005, p. 348). College environments that encourage
questioning, inquiry, and openness to evidence and argu-
ment foster the largest gains in moral reasoning (e.g., Rest
& Narvaez, 1991; Rogers, 2002), although this relation-
ship is attenuated in collegiate environments that are nar-
rowly careerist and where critical inquiry is not valued
(McNeel, 1994).
There are indeed differences among colleges and uni-
versities in the degree to which they make moral and
civic education a central institutional commitment.
Colby et al. (2003) noted that moral and civic develop-
ment is not a high priority for most American universities
and colleges. We have been struck again and again,
they write, by the very many lost opportunities for
moral and civic growth in curricular and extracurricular
programs on most campuses (p. 277). In their study of
12 universities that do make moral and civic growth an
institutional commitment, Colby et al. identify (a) the
important dimensions of moral and civic maturity that
should be addressed, (b) the sites where these dimen-
sions can be exploited, and (c) the thematic perspectives
that a fully rounded commitment to moral and civic edu-
cation should embrace.
With respect to the dimensions of moral and civic ma-
turity, Colby et al. (2003) nominated three categories:
understanding (e.g., key ethical and civic concepts,
knowledge of democratic principles, expertise in ones
field), motivation (e.g., hope and compassion, desire to
be an engaged citizen, sense of political efficacy, sense
of civic responsibility as a part of self-understanding),
and skills (e.g., communication skills, ability to collabo-
rate, forge consensus, compromise). These dimensions
are exploited in the curriculum, in extracurricular activ-
ities, and in the general campus culture. The curriculum,
for example, presents numerous opportunities to culti-
vate moral and civic maturity. Moral and civic under-
standing, motivation, and skills can mutually enhance
academic learning (e.g., Markus et al., 1993). A wide
range of pedagogical strategies, including service learn-
ing, project-based learning, field placements, site-base
practicum experiences, and collaborative work, encour-
ages student engagement with the broader community
and has significance for moral learning (Brandenberger,
2005). Moral and civic issues can be framed in core
courses and in the coursework of ones major and can be
the target of faculty development.
Finally, a comprehensive and intentional commitment
to moral and civic growth by universities and colleges
takes on three themes: community connections, moral
and civic virtue, and social justice (systemic social re-
sponsibility). According to Colby et al. (2003, p. 284),
Moral and civic education is incomplete if it does not
somehow take account of all these themes. Feeling a con-
nection to a community cultivates a sense of allegiance
and duty, where the benefits and burdens of cooperation,
and of citizenship, can be experienced and practiced.
Postsecondary institutions are also places where the
virtues proper to democratic citizenship can be culti-
vated. Although these dispositions have been variously
conceived, there is a strong consensus that a deliberative
character (Guttman, 1987) is minimally required, a char-
acter that is able to carry on the public conversation in a
way that is tolerant, respectful, and generous. Nash
(1997) has noted, too, that democratic dispositions are
essentially conversational virtues that take on moral
significance because they are necessary for living well in
a democracy. The democratic citizen must engage in pub-
lic discourse with toleration, fairness, and respect for dif-
ferent perspectives and for the canons of civility. Civic
engagement in a democratic society requires a disposition
to listen with generosity, to compromise, to argue on the
basis of factual evidence, to abide by outcomes, and to af-
firm the validity of a democratic process even if it results
in outcomes that are contrary to ones own preferences
(Knight Higher Education Collaborative, 2000). More-
over, the democratic citizen must have hope and confi-
dence in the value of deliberation and be able to engage in
adversarial discussion in a way that does not compromise
civic friendship, mutual respect, and sense of common
purpose. Hence, an important moral responsibility of
higher education is to cultivate dialogic competence in
public moral language (Strike, 1996, p. 889), and to pro-
vide occasions, in the context of scholarly engagement
and intellectual inquiry, where these virtues are on fre-
quent display and avidly practiced.
The third theme encourages curricular and extracur-
ricular activities that allow undergraduates to take on
systemic social responsibility: to be active in the
democratic process, to take a stand, to take an interest in
social policy, and to view the life of the community
through the lens of social justice and ones own respon-
A Case Study: Integrative Ethical Education 281
sibility as an engaged citizen. Postsecondary institu-
tions vary in how they address these three themes, but
what is crucial is that colleges and universities make
moral and civic maturity an explicit, intentional, and
comprehensive part of their educational mission.
Character and Professional Education
Professional practice, according to Bebeau (2002,
p. 271), is predominantly a moral enterprise. Indeed,
ethical development is a concern for schools across the
professional landscape, including business, law, medi-
cine, dentistry, nursing, and education. An increasing
number of professional schools are adopting ethics educa-
tion with greater frequency.
Rest and Narvaez (1994a) point out specific methods
that promote moral reasoning development in profes-
sional educational programs. First, following Deweys
advocacy of immediate experience and active problem
solving, one of the most effective methods is delibera-
tive psychological education, reading academic theory,
providing direct experience, and reflection that inte-
grates theory with the direct experience (Sprinthall,
1994). The individuals conceptual frameworks devel-
oped from these integrated experiences are not only
more sophisticated but are resilient. Studies have docu-
mented that the most popular and successful methods
of instruction for moral reasoning development involves
student discussion about dilemmas and cases in the field
(e.g., Hartwell, 1995). Moral dilemma discussion is
particularly effective when students are coached to de-
velop the skills necessary for expert moral problem
solving, using profession-specific ethical constructs
(Bebeau & Thoma, 1999), such as role taking and logi-
cal analysis for determining valid and invalid arguments
(McNeel, 1994; Penn, 1990). However, even less experi-
ential courses such as film-based courses and writing-
intensive courses can have positive effects (e.g.,
Bebeau, 1994, 2002; Self, Baldwin, & Olivarez, 1993).
The most integrative programs have moved beyond a
sole focus on moral reasoning to include other aspects
of moral functioning, such as those described by
the four component model (Rest, 1983). For example,
programs at the University of Minnesota assist nursing
and dentistry students in developing the four com-
ponents: ethical sensitivity, ethical motivation, and
ethical implementation as well as ethical judgment (Be-
beau, 1994; Duckett, 1994). Recently, Bebeau (2002) has
addressed the importance of developing a professional
moral identity. She suggests that the conceptual frame-
works of professional identity are not part of an initial
self-understanding, and must be revisited frequently
during professional education (p. 286). The study of
professional exemplars is a useful method for providing
concrete models for professional ethical identity forma-
tion (Rule & Bebeau, 2005). Such studies offer glimpses
to novices of what a virtuous professional looks like and
how to conduct oneself in typical and nontypical situa-
tions and provide role models for initiates.
A CASE STUDY: INTEGRATIVE
ETHICAL EDUCATION
Integrative Ethical Education (IEE) is a conceptual
framework that attempts to incorporate insights of de-
velopmental theory and psychological science into char-
acter education (Narvaez, 2005a; Narvaez, Bock, &
Endicott, 2003). It is integrative in several senses. It at-
tempts to understand character and its development in
terms of cognitive science literatures on expertise and
the novice-to-expert mechanisms of best practice in-
struction. It attempts to keep faith with classical sources
by linking Greek notions of eudaemonia ( human flour-
ishing), arte (excellence), phronesis (practical wis-
dom), and techne (expertise) with developmental and
cognitive science. It is compatible with positive youth
development in its claim that the goal of integrative eth-
ical education is the development of important compe-
tencies that contribute to productive adaptation to the
demands of adulthood, but that these competencies are
understood as clusters of skills that one may learn or
practice to varying degrees of expertise. It assumes that
the best context for expertise development is a caring re-
lationship with teacher-mentors wherein skills are
learned by means of coached practice and guided au-
tonomy. In delineating the elemental skills of good
character, IEE addresses character education by inte-
grating the findings from developmental psychology,
prevention science, and positive psychology. In propos-
ing the best approach to instruction, IEE addresses char-
acter education by integrating contemporary findings
from research in learning and cognition.
In this section, we outline some of the key features
of IEE. Integrative Ethical Education is predicated on
the importance of caring classroom environments, but
we focus on just three components of the model: char-
acter as expertise development, the cultivation of
282 Character Education
character as the cultivation of expertise, and the im-
portance of self-regulation for developing and main-
taining virtuous character.
Character as Expertise Development
Human learning is increasingly conceptualized as a mat-
ter of novices developing greater expertise in domains of
study (Ericsson & Smith, 1991; R. Sternberg, 1998). A
domain expert differs from a novice by having a large,
rich, organized network of concepts or schemas that in-
clude declarative, procedural, and conditional knowl-
edge. Unlike novices, experts know what knowledge to
access, which procedures to apply, and how to apply
them and when. Expertise refers not to mere technical
competence but to the multitrack capacities and sensi-
bilities of an exemplar, the refined, deep understanding
built from lived experience that is evident in practice
and action (Hursthouse, 1999, 2003; Spiecker, 1999).
In the Republic, Plato describes virtue as a type of
techne, or know-how that is characteristic of experts
(e.g., painters, writers, politicians) in specific domains.
Similarly, the virtuous person has ethical know-how,
that is, ethical skills honed to a high degree of expertise.
Ethical expertise refers not only to behaviors, sensibili-
ties, and orientations but also to feelings, motives, and
drives. Ethical expertise is not just what a person does
but that which the person likes to do (Urmson, 1988). It
is a complex of characteristics, skills, and competencies
that enable ethical behavior and sustain one in pursuing
the life that is good for one to live.
Rest (1983; Narvaez & Rest, 1995) identified four
psychologically distinct processes that must occur to
enable ethical behavior: ethical sensitivity, ethical
judgment, ethical motivation/focus, and ethical action.
The four-process model provides a holistic understand-
ing of the ethical exemplar, one who is able to demon-
strate keen perception and perspective taking, skilled
reasoning, ethical focus, and skills for completing
moral action (Bebeau, Rest, & Narvaez, 1999; Narvaez,
2005a; Narvaez, Bock, Endicott, & Lies, 2004). Each
process is represented by a set of skills (Narvaez et al.,
2004; Narvaez et al., 2003). For example, experts in the
skill of ethical sensitivity are able to more quickly and
accurately read the moral implications of a situation
and determine a suitable response. They are better at
generating usable solutions due to a greater understand-
ing of the consequences of possible actions. Experts in
ethical judgment are more skilled in solving complex
problems and seeing the syntactic structure of a prob-
lem quickly and bring with them many schemas for
reasoning about possible courses of action. Their
information-processing abilities are both complex and
efficient. Experts in the skill of ethical focus are able to
sustain moral priorities in light of the commitments of a
moral self-identity. Experts in the skills of ethical ac-
tion engage the self-regulation that is necessary to get
the ethical job done.
Pedagogy for Cultivating Character Expertise
The IEE model emphasizes two critical features of
successful pedagogy: First, it must be constructivist;
second, it must attend simultaneously to cultivating ex-
pertise on two fronts: conscious, explicit understandings
and intuitive, implicit understanding. Integrative Ethi-
cal Education adopts the cognitive-mediational view
that learning depends on the cognitive activity of stu-
dents; that learning occurs when incoming information
is actively transformed in light of prior knowledge; and
that teachers facilitate learning by engaging students in
active cognitive processing about content and facilitat-
ing self-monitoring understanding (L. M. Anderson,
1989). It assumes that learners are active constructors of
meaning, competencies, and skills and that individuals
build conceptual frameworksdeclarative, procedural,
and conditionalin the process of learning to get along
with others. When these skills are practiced extensively
in multiple contexts, they take on the qualities of tacit,
implicit knowledge and the automaticity characteristic
of the unconscious mind (Hassin, Uleman, & Bargh,
2005; Hogarth, 2001).
A model of instruction that captures these pedagogi-
cal goals is coached apprenticeship. A coached appren-
ticeship model involves using both direct and indirect
instruction, mimesis and transformation, a focus on
both content and process, tuning both the deliberate
conscious mind and the intuitive mind. In an apprentice-
ship, the guide provides examples and models of skilled
behavior and the theoretical explanation for why things
are done one way and not another. At the same time, the
apprentice is immersed in well-structured environments
that cultivate appropriate intuitions (Hogarth, 2001).
Teaching for ethical expertise requires coached
apprenticeship and extensive practice in multiple con-
texts. Integrative Ethical Education offers instructional
guidelines for helping children move along a continuum
from novice to expert in each ethical content domain that
A Case Study: Integrative Ethical Education 283
is studied. To do this, children must experience a type of
expert-in-training pedagogy, that fosters appropriate intu-
itions and deliberative understanding for each skill that
they learn. Teachers can set up instruction to help stu-
dents develop appropriate knowledge by designing lessons
according to the following four levels (based on Marshall,
1995). At Level 1 (Immersion in examples and opportu-
nities), teachers draw students attention to the big pic-
ture in a subject area and help them learn to recognize
basic patterns. At Level 2 (Attention to facts and
skills), teachers focus students attention on the details
and prototypical examples in the domain to build more
elaborate concepts. At Level 3 (Practice procedures),
the teacher provides opportunities for the students to try
out many skills and ideas in a domain to build a proce-
dural understanding of how skills are related and best de-
ployed to solve domain-relevant problems. Finally, at
Level 4 (Integrate knowledge and procedures), students
gradually integrate and apply systematically knowledge
across many contexts and situations.
Self-Regulation for Sustainability
The role of self-regulation in character development is
of long-standing interest. Aristotle emphasized that
virtues are developed with extended practice, effort,
and guidance from parents, teachers, and mentors until
the child is able to self-maintain virtue (Urmson, 1988).
Recent research demonstrates that the most successful
learners are those who self-monitor their success and
alter strategies when necessary. Thus, self-regulation
requires sophisticated metacognition. According to a so-
cial cognitive view, self-regulation is a cyclical, ever-
changing interaction among personal, behavioral, and
environmental factors, involving three phases: fore-
thought, performance or volitional control, and self-
reflection (Zimmerman, 2000).
Integrative Ethical Education infuses self-regulation
on two levels: the teacher level and the student level. For
school reforms to be sustainable, educators must take on
a self-regulatory orientation for the implementation of
character education. This means taking a systematic in-
tentional approach to building a caring ethical school
community, facilitating the development of instructional
and ethical skills in all members of the school commu-
nity, including teachers, administrators, and other staff,
as members of a comprehensive learning community.
For students to develop and maintain ethical skills,
they must increase their metacognitive understanding,
*
U.S. Department of Education Office of Educational Re-
search and Improvement Grant # R215V980001. Copies of
CVCE materials on CD are available from the Minnesota De-
partment of Education or from the Center for Ethical Educa-
tion, University of Notre Dame, 154 Institute for Educational
Initiatives, Notre Dame, IN 46556; e-mail: cee@nd.edu;
downloadable from http://cee.nd.edu.
self-monitoring skills, and self-regulation for ethical
and academic development. Individuals can be coached
to domain-specific self-efficacy and self-regulation
(Zimmerman, Bonner, & Kovach, 2002). In the IEE
model, teachers continuously draw student attention to
the moral issues immanent in classroom life and learn-
ing (Narvaez, 2005b). Students are provided guidance
and tools to answer one of the central questions of their
lives: Who should I be? As McKinnon (1999, p. 42)
points out, individuals must do the work necessary for
constructing a character. The IEE model helps students
develop the skills for ethical behavior but requires their
active participation in making the decisions that are
crucial and relevant for the construction of their own
characters. To develop ethical know-how, one must be
self-directive; one must take seriously the charge of
continually building ones character. Ethical know-how
must be trained holistically, as a type of expertise, at
first coached, then increasingly self-directed.
An Implementation of IEE: The Community
Voices and Character Education Project
The Community Voices and Character Education Proj-
ect (CVCE) was an early prototype of the Integrative
Ethical Education conceptual framework. The CVCE
was a federally funded project implemented in the state
of Minnesota from 1998 to 2002.* It was a collaborative
effort among the Minnesota Department of Education
(called at the time the Department of Children, Fami-
lies, and Learning), the University of Minnesota, and
educators across the state. The focus of the CVCE proj-
ect was to develop and provide a research-based frame-
work for character education at the middle school level
with teacher-friendly guidelines for how to incorporate
ethical development into standards-driven instruction.
Classroom activity guidebooks were created along with
other supportive materials, including teacher-designed
lesson plans.
Reflecting both an empowerment model and the his-
torical and legislative emphasis in Minnesota on local
284 Character Education
control of curricular decisions, the CVCE project used a
common morality (Beauchamp & Childress, 1994) ap-
proach of presenting research-based principles (top-
down) to a local team who adapted them for the local
context ( bottom-up), formulating a unique intervention.
The top-down recommendations included fostering a
caring climate conducive to character growth, using a
novice-to-expert approach to ethical skill instruction,
developing self-regulatory skills in students as they
practice ethical skills, and including parents and com-
munity members in cultivating character in students.
School teams and their leaders were guided in designing
a local vision for character education with specific ac-
tion steps for how to incorporate ethical skill instruction
with links to the community. As Elias et al. (2003)
pointed out, all program implementations are limited
because they must be adapted to local circumstances.
Too often it is assumed, they write, that evidence-
based programs can be plugged-in and then work ef-
fectively (p. 310). Each team developed a unique
approach to cultivating character, using schoolwide
projects, advisory/ homeroom lessons, and/or infusion
into academic instruction into some or all subjects.
Some teams incorporated existing character interven-
tions (e.g., Lions Quest) into their CVCE intervention.
Indeed, the IEE framework provides a comprehensive
approach within which existing character education pro-
grams can be integrated, extended, and strengthened.
Evaluation of the Community Voices and
Character Education Project
In the final year evaluation, only five of eight experi-
mental schools and one control school provided com-
pleted pretest-posttest data. The evaluation had several
components that correspond to the emphasis of the proj-
ect (for a more detailed discussion, see C. Anderson,
Narvaez, Bock, Endicott, & Lies, 2003; Narvaez, Bock,
Endicott, & Lies, 2004).
The primary focus of the project was to design a con-
ceptual framework for character education at the middle
school level along with activity books to guide teams of
teachers in incorporating character skill development
into standards-driven instruction. Both participating
and nonparticipating teachers from partner schools
thought the framework was valuable. The majority of re-
spondents reported easy or so-so for the ease of use
of the activity books.
We also evaluated the quality of the implementation.
Implementation varied across sites in terms of depth
and breadth. Differences in local implementation de-
sign, leadership, and stability of the leadership and of
the core team, as well as demands on teachers, led to
differences in depth and quality of implementation and
how many students were influenced. In only two of the
five schools was there full implementation of the model.
In these schools, all teachers were involved in teaching
ethical skills during advisory/ homeroom, in their aca-
demic instruction, and in schoolwide projects. In these
two schools, significant effects were found in student
pre/posttests. The other schools addressed a wide num-
ber of skills in a limited manner by only a subset of
teachers. Other approaches have required the full partic-
ipation of the school for implementation (e.g., the Child
Development Project) so that the student experience is
consistent across teachers; as a pilot program emphasiz-
ing local control, CVCE did not.
The substantive evaluation addressed effects on stu-
dents and school climate. Four student measures of cli-
mate were used: staff tolerance, student tolerance,
student self-report of climate perceptions and attach-
ment to school, and student perception of peer ethical
behavior. One or more general measures of each of the
four ethical processes were also used. For ethical sensi-
tivity, we used the Child Development Projects Con-
cern for Others Scale. For ethical judgment, we used a
global moral judgment scale. For ethical focus, we used
measures of citizenship, community bonding, and ethi-
cal identity. For ethical action, we used a measure of
moral assertiveness and prosocial responsibility.
Student survey responses were compared with a
matched comparison group (n = 125) from another
school not involved in the project. Across schools, the
findings with the ethical development scales were
mixed. Most scales indicated nonsignificant improve-
ments over the comparison group, with one exception.
Program students reported more sensitivity to intoler-
ance than did control students. The two schools that
fully implemented the program emphasized ethical sen-
sitivity. When contrasted with the comparison group,
program students in full-implementation schools re-
ported significant gains on ethical sensitivity. Climate
was used as a covariate in a MANOVA with school
group as factor (full implementation schools, partial im-
plementation schools, comparison school). For climate,
effect sizes were moderate for citizenship and commu-
nity bonding and small for ethical identity. For school
group, effect sizes were small for concern for others,
community bonding, and ethical identity. These findings
Issues of Implementation 285
suggest that climate may mediate the majority of effects
of ethical skill instruction.
There were three challenges to finding significant
differences in pre/post student assessments. First, lead-
ership changes at three schools undermined the test ad-
ministration in one way or another so that only five sets
of usable pre/post data were extant. Second, given the
amount of time required for successful interventions to
demonstrate an effect, it was deemed a challenge to find
significant pre/post differences within 1 year. Third,
one of the strengths of the programlocal control and
local distinctivenessmeant that cross-site compar-
isons were not possible, insofar as each sites implemen-
tation was not strictly comparable with those at other
sites. Thus, for a particular implementation, the num-
bers tested were small.
These features of CVCE are relevant also to the ques-
tion of replicability. Replicability typically refers to
successful implementation in more than one school. This
definition assumes that what is being implemented is
identical across sites. This is contrary to the approach
taken in the CVCE project. Instead, the emphasis was on
local control and local adaptation of the conceptual
framework. Replicability did not refer to identical im-
plementation but instead to the replicability of the pro-
cess and the general features of the model. Based on
the lesson plans teachers created in virtually every sub-
ject area, CVCE evaluators determined that teachers
were able to integrate character skills development into
standards-driven academic instruction. Based on the
teacher-created lesson plans and the local team and
local leader reports, educators were generally able to
implement the model with minimal supervision.
The key features of the model were largely followed
by most schools. Most teams viewed character as a set of
ethical skills derived from four processes. According to
the lesson plans teachers devised, most sites did use a
novice-to-expert approach to teach character skills.
Most sites at least attempted to involve the community
in planning and implementation in one way or another,
although outcomes were mixed. It is not clear how em-
powered the students felt as the university Human Sub-
jects Committee did not give permission to interview
student participants.
Lessons Learned
The IEE model provides a conceptual framework for
character cultivation that guides educators in how to
think about what character entails and how to nurture it
in students. The implementation of IEE in the CVCE
project was locally controlled, providing maximum flex-
ibility and allowing for adaptations that met local needs
and issues (and that are unforeseeable by a curriculum
writer). However, the fact that CVCE did not provide a
script for teachers made it necessary for teachers to put
in time to modify their lessons to incorporate ethical
skill development. With minimal training, teacher teams
were able to construct multiple units and lessons.
Lessons that a teacher modified himself or herself were
lessons that he or she would use again and again. This is
an advantage. Nevertheless, sometimes modifying les-
sons can be a daunting first step in character education,
especially for inexperienced teachers. Consequently, a
year-long scripted curriculum for homeroom/advisory
purposes (currently being piloted) could more easily fa-
miliarize teachers with the conceptual framework and
scaffold understanding of how to apply the model to
classroom activities. Maximum flexibility and local
control also made it difficult to measure replicable pro-
gram effects. A scripted approach will make possible a
cleaner estimation of replicable program effects.
ISSUES OF IMPLEMENTATION
Our examination of the IEE case study revealed a num-
ber of interesting challenges to successful implementa-
tion of a character education intervention. In this
section, we summarize some of the enduring implemen-
tation issues that have emerged in the various character
education literatures and from our own experience.
One enduring problem concerns the fidelity of imple-
mentation (Laud & Berkowitz, 1999). In the CVCE
project, the quality of implementation was related to dis-
parate outcomes. Schools with a broader (across more
classrooms and by more teachers) and deeper (more fre-
quent and focused) implementation were more successful,
a finding corroborated by other character development
programs (see Solomon et al., 2002). This underscores a
point made by Elias et al. (2003) that interventions are
rarely delivered as planned, even in trials marked by
stringent methodological rigor. And even if the program
is implemented and delivered as planned, there are few
assurances that it will be received by students as in-
tended. As Elias et al. put it, If children are inattentive, a
classroom is chaotic, or the material is not at the right de-
velopmental level, delivery by instructors may not
strongly predict childrens skill acquisition and use
286 Character Education
(pp. 309310). Thus, in addition to implementation fi-
delity, one must also attend to factors that limit student
exposure to the intervention (Berkowitz & Bier, 2004a).
In their analysis of implementation and sustainability
of social-emotional interventions, Elias et al. (2003)
note a number of additional obstacles that are highly rel-
evant to character education. For example, implementa-
tion fidelity can be threatened by turnover in teachers
and program staff. Characteristics of educators and
their roles can support or undermine implementation.
Not all roles are equally satisfying, level of commitment
varies, and tacit knowledge is not communicated to new
staff. As the authors put it, It is not the same thing to
create, to deliver, to administer and to continue an in-
novative program (p. 314). Working out role differences
and supporting new staff is crucial to sustainable pro-
gramming. Indeed, success seems to accompany a
spirit of continuous improvement and reinvention with-
out excessive divergence from what exists (p. 314). In
addition, although virtually every approach to character
education calls for extensive and active collaboration
with family and community, the difficulties in forming,
effectively utilizing, and sustaining these partnerships
are often underestimated.
Elias et al. (2003) summarize a number of factors
associated with successful and sustainable program im-
plementation. Such programs (a) have a program coordi-
nator, preferably with appropriate preparation, or a
committee, to oversee implementation; ( b) involve com-
mitted individuals who have a sense of ownership of the
program; (c) have continuous formal and informal train-
ing; (d) have varied and engaging instructional materials
that map onto goals of the school or district; and (e) have
buy-in of key educational leaders and the consistent sup-
port of critical constituencies. Elias et al. also suggest
that a pragmatic, theoretically informed perspective is
essential. Local ecologies, they write, will not sup-
port an infinite variety of possibilities. What has a
chance to work is what fits (p. 314). What is required,
in other words, is a goodness-of-fit between program
planning, its objectives and goals, and its flexible imple-
mentation in the spirit of continuous improvement.
The reference to the local ecology of schools and to
obstacles and opportunities that are endemic to complex
organizations draws attention to the culture of schools
as an arena for character education. The cultivation of a
professional learning community within a school is crit-
ical to sustainable school reform efforts (Fullan, 1999,
2000). For example, schools that were successful in rais-
ing student achievement and improving school climate
had staffs that developed a professional learning com-
munity, addressed student work through assessment,
and changed their practice to improve results (Newmann
& Wehlage, 1995; Pankake & Moller, 2003). Profes-
sional learning communities have particular characteris-
tics. They take the time to develop a shared vision and
mutually held values that focus on student learning and
foster norms for improving practice. Leadership is dem-
ocratic, shared among teachers and administrators. The
entire staff seeks and shares knowledge, skills, and
strategies to improve practice. The school structure sup-
ports an environment that is collaborative, trusting, pos-
itive, and caring. Peers open their classrooms to the
feedback and suggestions of others to improve student
achievement and promote individual and community
growth. We believe that these same practices are critical
to sustain a commitment not only to academic achieve-
ment but to moral learning as well, and it is welcome to
see a commitment to learning communities in a promi-
nent report on high school character education (Lickona
& Davidson, 2004).
We suggest that if character education is to be consid-
ered an instance of primary prevention then it should
possess the features of any well-designed intervention.
It should be comprehensive, have multiple components,
address multiple assets at different levels of the ecologi-
cal setting, and be implemented in the early grades and
sustained over time. It is now a truism to remark that
one-trial or short-term intervention programs have little
lasting impact. Moreover, insofar as dispositional coher-
ence is located at the interaction of persons and context,
there is little hope for enduring character education that
does not attend also to the climate and culture of class-
rooms and schools. Effective character education re-
quires a pervasive commitment to change the culture of
schools as much as to change the behavior of children.
Payton et al. (2000) note a number of specific fea-
tures of quality social emotional learning programs.
These programs (a) articulate a conceptual framework
that guides the selection of program and learning objec-
tives; ( b) provide professional development instruction
to teachers to enable their effective implementation
across the regular academic curriculum; and (c) include
well-organized and user-friendly lesson plans with clear
objectives and learning activities and assessment tools.
Moreover, they note that successful programs take steps
to improve schoolwide cooperation and school-family
and school-community partnerships.
Open Questions and Future Directions 287
There is a significant literature on the school charac-
teristics that promote academic achievement. Schools
with high achievement are orderly and safe; they are re-
spectful and provide students with moral and personal
support while expecting them to achieve (Sebring,
1996). Achieving schools have a strong sense of commu-
nity and high academic standards (strong norms and
high expectations for achievement; Bryk, Lee, & Hol-
land, 1993). Interestingly, the characteristics that foster
achievement overlap with characteristics that nurture
prosocial development. Schools that foster prosocial de-
velopment have caring climates that nurture a feeling of
belonging and competence in students (M. Watson et al.,
1997). In other words, there are not two sets of instruc-
tional best practice, one for academic achievement and
one for character. Both objectives work out of the same
playbook. In this sense, effective character education is,
indeed, good education. A recent study in Catholic
schools using structural equation modeling showed, for
example, that climate influenced directly character de-
velopment. Moreover, character development mediated
the effect of climate on academic motivation moreso
than climates direct effect on motivation (Mullen,
Turner, & Narvaez, 2005).
This suggests, of course, that effective character edu-
cation ultimately comes down to what teachers do in
their classrooms. The extent to which moral and charac-
ter education is taught explicitly in teacher preparation
programs is not clear. It is well known that teachers who
have more expertise in both content and pedagogical
content knowledge conduct their classes more effec-
tively than do novice teachers (Berliner, 1994a, 1994b;
Shulman, 1987; Sternberg & Horvath, 1995). However,
if explicit instructional focus on moral content knowl-
edge and pedagogy is limited or absent during preser-
vice teacher training, then one cannot be optimistic that
efforts to expand character education will be met with
the requisite levels of teacher expertise.
On the other hand, Carr (1991) argued that if teach-
ers fail in their implementation of moral education it is
not because they lack knowledge of curriculum theory or
lack pedagogical skills. Indeed, he argues that we do our
student teachers in education programs no great favors
by proceeding as though education and learning to teach
are matters only of the mastery of certain pedagogical
skills, knacks or strategies apt for the successful trans-
mission of value-neutral knowledge or information
(p. 11). Rather, teachers fail because the value questions
immanent to teaching are not systematically addressed
in their professional formation. Instead, there is some-
thing approaching a conspiracy of silence among teacher
educators on this topic (p. 10). Carr contends that when
teacher education programs do not require sensible re-
flection upon the moral character of human life and ex-
perience, the nature of values and the ethical aspects of
the educationalists role, then the resulting intellectual
vacuum leaves teachers vulnerable to faddism; it leaves
them ill-prepared to make transparent the immanence
and inevitability of fundamental value questions that at-
tend education, teaching, and learning. Sensible reflec-
tion might also point to how preservice teachers are
taught to frame the moral significance of daily class-
room life. Teacher educators might take direction from
Jackson, Boostrom, and Hansen (1993), The Moral Life
of Schools, when thinking about cultivating awareness
among preservice teachers of the immanence and in-
evitability of morality in the classroom. Jackson et al.
(1993), for example, pointed out that teachers who
maintain ethical classrooms model a strong moral char-
acter and expect students to do the same. These teachers
point out the moral aspects of subject matter materials
and choose materials based on these characteristics.
Moreover, in these classrooms moral discussions be-
come part of the classroom flow, occurring sponta-
neously in and outside of the classroom. In any case,
teacher educators need to complete the task of linking
best practice with moral character development, a task
started by Williams and Schaps (1999).
OPEN QUESTIONS AND
FUTURE DIRECTIONS
We have argued that character education requires a de-
fensible psychological understanding of dispositional
coherence and of development and a defensible approach
to education that conforms to what is known about effec-
tive teaching and learning. We proposed a developmental
systems perspective as a conceptual framework for char-
acter education and reviewed several categories of youth
development and prevention programs that show promise
as school-based or community-based interventions.
It is an enduring question, however, whether these
programs are rightfully considered instances of charac-
ter education. We made a distinction between character
education as a treatment and character education as an
outcome. As our review makes clear, there is very little
that is distinctive about traditional character education
288 Character Education
that warrants it be considered an educational treatment
in its own right. Indeed, when advocates point to charac-
ter education programs that work, these are programs
motivated by an entirely different theoretical agenda
than one of morality, virtue, or character. Programs that
work are associated with positive youth development or
social-emotional learning. Developmental science, in-
cluding developmental psychopathology and the science
of prevention, already provide powerful frameworks for
understanding risk, resilience, adaptation, and thriving
that has little need for the language of character. On the
other hand, if character is considered not a treatment but
a set of outcomes, then, of course, there is nothing unto-
ward about claiming the findings of developmental inter-
ventions as its own. In this case, interventions that are
motivated by developmental science, by perspectives on
youth development and SEL, for example, provide out-
comes that are relevant to a certain understanding of
character and give insights about how to prepare youth
for the travails and opportunities of adulthood.
Yet we do not want to give up on the idea that charac-
ter education can be a distinctive educational interven-
tion. Although the literatures on youth development and
social-emotional learning provide an attractive vision of
adaptation, thriving, and positive adjustment, and al-
though it is tempting for character educators to want to
claim these literatures as their own, we think that this
vision of successful adulthood is incomplete without a
specification of the moral dimensions of self hood, iden-
tity, and community. The metaphors of thriving and
flourishing and positive development point mostly to-
ward the notion of what it means to live well. But living
well is only half of the challenge. We must not only live
well, but live well the life that is good for one to live.
Discerning the life that is good for one to live is a moral
question; it has profound moral dimensions that are
not exhausted by avoiding risks and acquiring social-
affective competencies.
Certainly, the life that is good for one to live requires
avoidance of significant risk behavior, and so character
education embraces the science of prevention as a pro-
phylaxis against risks and deficits. Certainly, the life
that is good for one to live requires the cultivation of
competencies that prepare one for the challenges of
adulthood, and so character education embraces posi-
tive youth development in its several forms, along with
its slogan: Problem-free is not fully prepared. Yet fully
prepared is not morally adept. In our view, character ed-
ucation should aim minimally for full preparation of
young people for adulthood, but should not be content
with full preparation for living well; it should aim, too,
at helping students cope with the ethical dimensions of
the good life lived well.
The challenge for character education, then, is how to
maintain a distinctive voice in educational innovations,
psychosocial interventions, and youth programming. An
approach to positive youth development that is also an
instance of character education would be marked, in our
view, by an explicit conceptual framework that embraces
a developmental systems orientation while articulating a
moral vision of what it means to flourish. This moral vi-
sion is ideally a virtue ethic that articulates a positive
conception of moral agency as a deeply relational and
communitarian achievement that expresses the nature of
our self-identity through our lived moral desires.
Another challenge is to exploit the resources of psy-
chological science in framing a defensible notion of
moral agency, self-identity, and dispositional coherence.
We have made a number of suggestions along the way for
a psychologized approach to moral character. In our
view, social cognitive theories of personality and the
cognitive science literatures on expertise provide useful
frameworks for understanding the moral dimensions of
personality, although other literatures may be exploited
with profit as well. We reiterate our conviction that an
adequate character education will require robust models
of character psychology, characterized by deep integra-
tion with multiple psychological frameworks.
Moreover, a developmental systems orientation
broadens our perspective on character and character ed-
ucation. There is a tendency, for example, to regard
character education as something that takes place in
schools as a formal curriculum. Yet, as we have seen, the
foundations of emergent morality and of conscience are
evident quite early in childhood, and the developmental
dynamic and pattern of socialization in early family life
is most assuredly a kind of character education that will
be of interest to researchers for some time to come.
Whats more, a developmental systems perspective bids
us to examine the possibilities of dynamic change in
character psychology throughout the life course and
within the multiple life worlds of the individual beyond
family and schooling in areas such as leisure activities
and peer relations. Perhaps a life course perspective
on character will require additional constructs, such
as wisdom (Staudinger & Pasupathi, 2003; R. J. Stern-
berg, 1998), purpose (Damon, Menon, & Bronk, 2003),
personal goals (Emmons, 2002), spirituality and self-
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ecological citizenship (Clayton & Opotow, 2003), and
character strengths (Peterson & Seligman, 2004), to
capture adequately the complexity of phase-relevant dis-
positional coherence and human flourishing.
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297
CHAPTER 8
Learning Environments
PHYLLIS C. BLUMENFELD, RONALD W. MARX, and CHRISTOPHER J. HARRIS
SELECTION CRITERIA 298
FEATURES AND DESCRIPTIONS OF
LEARNING ENVIRONMENTS 299
Features of Learning Environments 299
Program Descriptions 307
Comparing Programs 313
DESIGN AND IMPLEMENTATION OF LEARNING
ENVIRONMENTS: INTERPLAY OF THEORY
AND PRACTICE 318
Design Principles 318
Iterative Cycles of Design 319
Merits of Design Research 325
SCALING LEARNING ENVIRONMENTS 327
Types of Scaling 328
Research on Scaling of Learning Environments 330
CONCLUSIONS 332
Design 333
Research 335
Policy 336
Conclusion 337
REFERENCES 337
The term learning environments is used in many
fields, including education, architecture, and psychol-
ogy. Although definitions vary, most agree that learn-
ing environments encompass the learner, the context,
and the content of tasks. The concept of learning envi-
ronments in education has become more prevalent as
theories of learning have evolved (Bransford, Brown,
& Cocking, 2000; De Corte, Verschaffel, Entwistle, &
van Merrinboer, 2003; Jonassen & Land, 2000;
Schauble & Glaser, 1996). Recent theories emphasize
that understanding results from active construction by
the learner.
One type of learning environment, based on cognitive
psychology, focuses on helping students accomplish tasks
and engage in specific thinking processes. Information-
processing theories explore howlearners remember infor-
mation, relate new information to prior knowledge to
build schemas that organize ideas, and develop under-
standing. The breadth and depth of schemas determine
whether the learner is able to apply ideas to newproblems.
Learning environments of this type often stem from re-
search on differences in expert-novice thinking and often
provide tutoring and guidance in the use of strategies and
thinking processes typical of experts.
A second type of environment is based on ideas about
social contexts and practices, focusing on activities,
skills, and discourse used in those contexts. These ideas
were discussed by Dewey (1938) and Vygotsky (1978)
and more recently by American researchers who have
used Vygotskys theoretical approach. Environments de-
veloped along these lines include tasks that are typical
of those used in the disciplines, instructional scaffolding
by more knowledgeable others, tool use that supports
learning, and development of learning communities that
engage in practices representative of the subject area
under study. A frequent goal of these learning environ-
ments is to create intentional or adaptive learners (e.g.,
Bereiter & Scardamalia, 1989).
The success of learning environments in achieving
their goals depends on the experience and knowledge of
learners, the knowledge of the teacher, the design of
tasks, and the nature of community that is developed.
Consider inquiry as an example. Inquiry is a central
learning activity for many subject matter-based learning
environments. To promote construction of understand-
ing, teachers help students raise questions, decide on
information or experiments needed to answer those
questions, collect and interpret the information, and
draw conclusions. This type of activity differs from
those in more traditional instructional approaches. It
changes the role of the teacher frominformation delivery
to scaffolder. That is, it requires that teachers scaffold
298 Learning Environments
* An example of a learning environment that is widespread but
would not fit these criteria is the JASON project. This widely
disseminated program draws on popular topics and creates
packages of material for students and teachers, often including
technology. But its design is not explicitly based on a learning
theory. Other popular programs are designed to provide simu-
lation experiences, such as a model United Nations, simulating
activities so that students understand how to think about
them as well as gain the procedural knowledge of how to
do them. It requires that teachers help students to collab-
orate and form a community, to take risks, and to recog-
nize that some questions do not have one right answer.
In this chapter, we describe learning environments
that reflect the information processing and social cogni-
tive approaches to learning environments. We begin by
presenting selection criteria for the learning environ-
ments we discuss. In the first section, we present a uni-
fying scheme to characterize programs, describing
several learning environments according to the scheme.
The purpose is to illustrate the range of learning envi-
ronments and the similarities and differences in fea-
tures they contain and what they emphasize. The second
section addresses how learning environments are de-
signed, implemented, and refined. We highlight the in-
terplay of theory and practice in this process. The third
section discusses what happens and what needs to be
considered as learning environments are scaled. It is
often the case that learning environments are developed
and revised based on experiences in a few classrooms.
When more teachers, children, and settings are in-
volved, issues arise that were not initially problematic.
These can affect whether learning environments need to
be redesigned and whether they are successful. The
fourth section contains a summary and conclusions
about what we have learned about designing, implement-
ing, and scaling learning environments and offers sug-
gestions for future work.
SELECTION CRITERIA
Four criteria guide our selection of learning environ-
ments for our discussion. We primarily focus on class-
room learning environments that are theoretically
based. We also include some environments designed for
use in afterschool programs. Our search for programs
was not exhaustive. Our list includes a range of pro-
grams that exemplify the characteristics needed to de-
scribe learning environments and advance theoretical
development and empirical research. The criteria* are:
a meeting of the Organization of American States, or arguing a
case in Moot Court. These are what we consider grassroots
programs that can serve as useful examples of what to include
in learning environments. Often popular and used in many set-
tings, they nevertheless are not designed to link to specific ed-
ucational standards, have limited scope (even though they
consider important topics), are not specifically based on a the-
ory of learning or environment, and, although they provide
valuable learning experiences, they vary considerably in the
types and rigor of assessment of learning outcomes.
1. Explicit academic learning goals: Many learning en-
vironments are designed to engage students in inter-
esting activities but have vague academic learning
goals. We include only those that have specifically
identified and assessed subject matter learning goals.
These are likely to be the most informative in consid-
ering issues of design, implementation and scaling of
learning environments. They also are the most likely
to meet the other criteria.
2. Ambitious scope: By this we mean a learning environ-
ment designed to address academic material in either
breadth or depth. Many learning environments in ed-
ucation are aligned with national subject matter stan-
dards or frameworks recommended by professional
organizations. Programs tied to national standards or
frameworks are preferred.
3. Highly specified and developed materials: Drawing on
descriptions of innovations proposed by D. K. Cohen
and Ball (1999), we include learning environments
that are highly specified and developed. Highly spec-
ified programs have clear theoretical backgrounds,
design principles based on research and theory, and
guidelines for enactment. Highly developed pro-
grams have materials for teachers and students to
use, such as student workbooks and readers, assess-
ments, teacher manuals, and professional develop-
ment materials that exemplify desired enactments.
Programs can be highly specified but not highly de-
veloped, thereby leaving a considerable opportunity
for customization to local contexts, but also running
the risk of enactments that stray considerably from
the theoretical principles. Similarly, materials can be
highly developed but have little theoretical specifica-
tion, such as commonly used textbooks for teachers
and students.
4. Published research: Reports on the program and its
outcomes are necessary for inclusion. Learning envi-
ronments that do not include reviewed research may
Features and Descriptions of Learning Environments 299
be popular but are not likely to yield theoretical or
practical insights necessary to advance knowledge
by informing theory, design principles, or practice
recommendations.
Table 8.1 lists learning environments that match our
selection criteria. This is a purposeful sampling to illus-
trate the wide range of programs that match. The pro-
grams are clustered according to whether they have a
disciplinary content focus, knowledge-building empha-
sis, or an extracurricular learning focus. Each program
is accompanied by a brief description and a Web site
link. We refer to many of these programs as examples
throughout the remaining sections.
FEATURES AND DESCRIPTIONS OF
LEARNING ENVIRONMENTS
This section describes selected learning environments
based on the four criteria. The programs vary by age of
students, subject matter, and goals. Many of the more
recently developed learning environments include tech-
nology, such as personal computers or Web-based com-
munication tools, either as a primary focus or as an
important component. We sample from such programs
where there is a strong theory and research base because
they are powerful ways to extend learning environments
beyond the classroom.
Features of Learning Environments
Table 8.2 (p. 302) presents a framework for examining
features of learning environments. We use the features
to describe three learning environments that represent
both information processing and social cognitive theory.
Finally, we present a chart based on the features that
characterizes and compares several widely used learn-
ing environments. Our point is to illustrate commonality
and variety in the design of learning environments.
Descriptions of programs in this section contrast envi-
ronments designed around information-processing ap-
proaches and social cognitive approaches to learning.
There are many different ways to describe learning
environments. For instance, a tetrahedral model originally
developed by Jenkins (1979) and modified by A. L. Brown
and colleagues (A. L. Brown, Bransford, Ferrara, & Cam-
pione, 1983), presents a framework for examining aspects
of learning environments. The Jenkins model, as modified
by A. L. Brown et al., identifies four factors that interact
within a learning setting: (1) learning activities, (2) char-
acteristics of the learners, (3) nature of the content to be
learned, and (4) the end products or goals of the learning
setting. These factors are interdependent: A change in one
will influence the impact of others. Another framework,
more recently developed by Paavola, Lipponen, and
Hakkarainen (2004) examine the models of learning that
underlie learning environments. In their approach, they
focus on the processes of knowledge creation to explore
how learning environments are organized. Quite differ-
ently, De Kock, Sleegers, and Voeten (2004) examine
learning environments around learning goals, teacher and
learner roles, and the roles of learners in relation to one
another. They consider these to be basic aspects of learn-
ing environments that influence student performance and
learning. They suggest that these three aspects of the
learning environment can provide a classification scheme
for designing and evaluating learning environments in
secondary education. A framework proposed in How Peo-
ple Learn (Bransford, Brown, & Cocking, 2000) provides
a set of four design characteristics that can be used to an-
alyze the quality of learning environments. The frame-
work takes into account the degree to which learning
environments are knowledge-centered, learner-centered,
assessment-centered, and community-centered.
Our framework attempts to provide greater detail
about features of learning environments that are impor-
tant to consider in design and evaluation. Learning envi-
ronments can be described by the goals, the types of
tasks and instructional materials used to reach the goals,
the role of the teacher, and how learning is assessed.
Technology also may be a central feature. Learning en-
vironments encompass different types or combinations
of types of social organization. In the design of learning
environments, these features are presumed to be interde-
pendent; they work together to affect outcomes. The
goals and instantiations of each feature derive from un-
derlying theoretical ideas about learning.
Goals
The goals of learning environments can be academic,
social, metacognitive, and developmental; particular
learning environments might encompass all four types
or only one or two. Academic goals of recently designed
classroom-based learning environments tend to focus on
standards-based frameworks following recommendations
from professional organizations. The National Research
Council (NRC; 1996) and the American Association for
the Advancement of Science (1993) have disseminated
300
TABLE 8.1 Selected Learning Environments
Cluster Learning Environment Description Web Site
Discipline-based
programs: Mathematics
Cognitive Tutors
(Anderson, Corbett , Koedinger,
& Pelletier, 1995; Corbett ,
Koedinger, & Hadley, 2001)
Intelligent software
environment for high school
mathematics classrooms
http://www.carnegielearning.com
Connected Mathematics Project
(Lappan, Fey, Fit zgerald, Friel,
& Phillips, 2002, 2006)
Problem-centered middle school
mathematics program
http://www.mth.msu.edu/cmp
Jasper
(Cognition and Technology
Group at Vanderbilt , 1992, 1997)
Video-based mathematics
program for middle schools
http://peabody.vanderbilt.edu
/projects/funded/ jasper
/Jasperhome.html
Discipline-based
programs: Science
Biology Guided Inquiry
Learning Environments
(BGuILE; Resier et al., 2001)
Technology-infused inquiry for
middle school and high school
biology
http://www.letus.org/ bguile
GenScope/ BioLogica
(Horwit z & Christie, 2000;
Hickey, Kindfield, Horwit z, &
Christie, 2003)
Computer-based genetics
program for middle school and
high school
http://www.concord.org
/ biologica
Guided Inquiry Supporting
Multiple Literacies
(GIsML; Magnusson &
Palincsar, 1995; Palincsar &
Magnusson, 2001)
Guided inquiry science program
for elementary students
http://www.soe.umich.edu/gisml
Kids as Global
Scientists/ BioKIDS
(Huber, Songer, & Lee, 2003;
Songer, 1996, in press; Songer,
Lee, & Kam, 2002)
Technology-based inquiry
science program for upper
elementary and middle school
students
http://www.biokids.umich.edu
Learning by Design
(LBD; Kolodner, Camp,
et al., 2003; Kolodner, Gray,
& Fasse, 2003)
Design-based middle school
science program
http://www.cc.gatech.edu
/edutech/projects/ lbdview.html
Project Based Science
(PBS; Marx, Blumenfeld,
Krajcik, & Soloway, 1997;
Singer, Marx, Krajcik, &
Chambers, 2000)
Science inquiry curricula
focused on everyday
experiences for middle school
students
http://www.hi-ce.org
ThinkerTools
(White, 1993; White &
Frederiksen, 1998, 2000)
Scientific inquiry and modeling
software and curricula for
middle school science
http://thinkertools.soe.berkeley
.edu
Web-Based Integrated Science
Environment
(WISE; Linn, Clark, & Slotta,
2003; Slotta, 2004)
Online science inquiry learning
environment for grades 512
http://wise.Berkeley.edu
Geographic Data in Education
Initiative/ World Watcher
(GEODE; Edelson, 2001;
Edelson, Gordin, & Pea, 1999)
Inquiry-based environmental
science program for middle
school and high school
http://www.worldwatcher
.northwestern.edu
Discipline-based
programs: Literacy
Literacy Innovation that Speech
Technology Enables
(LISTEN; Mostow & Aist ,
2001; Mostow & Beck, in press)
Computerized reading tutor for
elementary students
http://www.cs.cmu.edu/listen
Features and Descriptions of Learning Environments 301
TABLE 8.1 Continued
Discipline-based programs:
Social sciences
Problem-Based Economics
(Maxwell & Bellisimo, 2003;
Maxwell, Bellisimo, &
Mergendoller, 2001)
Problem-based learning for high
school economics
http://www.bie.org/index.php
Knowledge-building programs
Computer-Supported Intentional
Learning Environments/
Knowledge Forum
(CSILE; Bereiter &
Scardamalia, 2003;
Scardamalia, Bereiter, &
Lamon, 1994)
Computer-based environment
for intentional learning and
knowledge building
http://www.knowledgeforum.com
Fostering Communities of
Learners
(A. L. Brown & Campione,
1994, 1996, 1998)
Guided inquiry environment
supporting a metacognitive
culture of learning
Schools for Thought
(Lamon et al., 1996)
Whole-day guided inquiry
program emphasizing learning
with understanding for grades
58
Extracurricular programs
Fifth Dimension
(Cole, 1995, 1996; K. Brown &
Cole, 2000, 2002)
Mixed activity system of
education and play for
elementary and middle school
children
http://129.171.53.1/ blantonw
/5dClhse/clearingh1.html
Cluster Learning Environment Description Web Site
Kids Learning in Computer
Klubhouses
(KLICK; Zhao, Mishra, &
Girod, 2000; Girod, Martineau,
& Zhao, 2004)
Afterschool technology-based
learning environment for middle
school students
http://www.klick.org/ kids
/ klubhouses
science standards; the National Council of Teachers of
Mathematics (1989, 1991, 2000) has prepared standards
for mathematics teaching. Similarly, history standards
have been developed by the National Center for History
in the Schools (1996) and the National Council for the
Social Studies (1994). Although the standards advocated
by professional organizations may be consistent with fed-
eral No Child Left Behind legislation, the professional
standards are guidelines and are not tied specifically to
high-stakes assessment. They might be consistent with
standards adopted by states and local education authori-
ties, but they are not mandated by local school districts or
states. Academic goals focus on learning particular sub-
ject matter content. They also entail learning about disci-
plinary practices and norms such as what constitutes
evidence, how conclusions are drawn, how ideas are com-
municated, how progress in knowledge is made, and how
change in knowledge frameworks occur. For instance,
student learning about the nature of science might in-
clude how science progresses, the role and design of in-
quiry, and acceptable methods of interpretations.
Goals can also be social, such as the interpersonal
goal of learning to work cooperatively. Motivational
goals entail improving attitudes and promoting interest,
thereby enhancing students desire to learn and willing-
ness to exert effort to do so. Communicative goals stem
from epistemic frameworks of knowledge in disciplines.
They focus on accuracy and use of language as it is prac-
ticed in the discipline. Within the discipline of history,
examples are students who present information in a his-
torically correct manner, using terms and making argu-
ments and explanations as historians would. These
communication capabilities can be part of classroom dis-
course or embedded in artifacts like reports, models, or
visual representations.
A third type of goal addresses the promotion of a dis-
position for thinking and reasoning: mental habits such
as persistence and posing questions that support self-
directed or self-regulated learning (Costa & Kallick,
2000). Some habits of mind relate to skills in the disci-
pline; others are more global and considered necessary
to become a lifelong intentional learner. They can be
302
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Features and Descriptions of Learning Environments 303
metacognitive, such as promoting students proficiency
in the use of learning and self-regulatory strategies. The
latter involves planning, monitoring progress, and revis-
ing approaches where necessary as well as maintaining
concentration. Sometimes habits of mind goals focus on
creating adaptive and intentional learners who identify
what needs to be learned, are thoughtful and effective in
deciding how to accomplish their ends, and use strate-
gies proficiently in the service of their aims (Bereiter &
Scardamalia, 1989, 2003).
A fourth type of goal is developmental. Most learning
environments are not designed for students of multiple
ages. They typically focus on subject matter teaching
for one age group, such as late elementary, middle, or
high school students. Learning environments attempt
to move students forward in terms of their levels of
knowledge and in their mirroring of expert thinking,
problem solving, and use of discipline-based practice.
To do so, they draw on research about learning in the
subject areas, student misconceptions, and developmen-
tal differences in information processing and use of
learning strategies. An example of such an environment
is a problem-centered math program for middle school
students, Connected Mathematics. This program draws
from contemporary research on teaching and learning in
this subject area, as well as national mathematics stan-
dards (Lappan & Phillips, 1998; Lappan, Fey, Fitzger-
ald, Friel, & Phillips, 2002).
Developers of learning environments are less explicit
in identifying social development as part of design princi-
ples. Nevertheless, many designs have features that are
compatible with what Eccles and Midgley (1989) de-
scribe as classroom-based, age-stage environmental fit.
Most feature collaboration with others, meaningful prob-
lems, active learning, and varying degrees of student re-
sponsibility and choice.
Tasks
Tasks are what students do to learn subject matter con-
tent and practices. Tasks include the content, the level of
complexity of the material to be learned, and the open-
ness of how the task can be accomplished. Learning envi-
ronments usually feature tasks that are conceptually and
procedurally complex. They require students to use learn-
ing strategies to remember and organize material and
metacognitive strategies to plan a course of action and
evaluate results. They often ask students to solve prob-
lems or design artifacts with unprescribed routes to solu-
tion and with several or even unlimited answers. For
instance, in the science program Learning by Design
(LBD; Kolodner, Camp, et al., 2003), students learn
about force and motion by designing and building minia-
ture vehicles and their propulsion systems. The collection
of tasks in a learning environment may include only one
discipline or combine several subject areas, such as math-
ematics and science or history and language arts. They
may require students to engage in research to answer
questions by doing experiments, conducting surveys in
their community, or consulting primary or secondary
sources through library or Web-based searches.
The sequence of tasks and topics in a learning envi-
ronment can vary from tightly specified to very open.
The former is likely to be part of programs that highlight
the acquisition of well-defined and specific academic
content or skills. For instance, skill acquisition models
are usually sequential and hierarchical, designed to
move learners to higher levels of expertise. The Ameri-
can Association for the Advancement of Science (2001)
has published specific strand maps of science concepts
and process skills for primary through secondary grades
that underlie science programs that match their stan-
dards. Similarly, intelligent software programs like
Carnegie Learnings Geometry Tutor are sequenced so
that students learn to solve progressively more difficult
problems. On the other hand, the sequence of content,
lessons, or experiences may not be as tightly prescribed
in some learning environments. Instead, students might
explore different topics at different times, such as work-
ing on different projects in an online environment for
learning, like the Web-based Integrated Science Envi-
ronment (WISE; Linn, Davis, & Bell, 2004).
Tasks can vary in degree of authenticity. Newmann and
Wehlage (1993) define authentic tasks as those that mirror
tasks found in the discipline to some extent, require trans-
formation of information, and have meaning beyond the
classroom. Tasks may reflect real-world experiences of
students, such as their communitys air quality, or they
may involve topics of potential interest with which stu-
dents have had no direct experience, such as space travel
or dinosaurs. They also may be designed to reflect the
work of professionals in a discipline. For example, stu-
dents might develop historical interpretations of reasons
for population migration to northern cities during the first
half of the twentieth century, or they might mirror how
engineers create designs that solve problems of how to
better insulate homes or construct tall buildings.
Content and skills to be learned may be contextual-
ized within a problem or question. For instance, students
304 Learning Environments
in LBD are asked to solve design-and-build challenges
that involve constructing working devices or models to
illustrate science concepts; students in project-based
science classrooms are asked to answer such questions
as How can good friends make me sick? Similarly,
mathematical problem-solving skills are anchored in a
videodisc series of more complex adventures of a char-
acter named Jasper (Cognition and Technology Group at
Vanderbilt, 1997). Tasks also may be designed to reflect
disciplinary concepts such as exploring the principles of
force and motion or genetics.
Students artifacts usually are designed to represent
their learning. The process of their creation fosters con-
struction of knowledge; for instance, when students cre-
ate models, they need to decide on what to include, what
relationships to illustrate, how to explain reasons for
what they have done and what their model shows. In
some programs, creation of the artifact is the central
feature that drives learning. In LBD, students go
through cycles of design as they solve problems; revision
of designs should reflect greater understanding of un-
derlying concepts they have studied. Artifacts such as
models and designs can be considered open or not prede-
termined. In contrast, artifacts that demonstrate solu-
tion of a math problem can be considered more closed,
although there may be various routes to the solution.
Instructional Materials
Materials provided by designers of learning environ-
ments range in their level of theoretical explicitness, de-
tail for enactment, and resources provided for teachers
and students. Programs chosen for inclusion in this
chapter are based on theoretically explicit principles de-
rived from either cognitive or sociocognitive perspec-
tives. These programs are highly specified, but vary in
their degree of development. That is, they include a
range of examples, materials, and resources for teachers
and students to put the ideas into practice.
Most of the programs included are fairly well devel-
oped. They usually include professional development in
their efforts. The materials provided, however, may vary
in how explicitly the principles underlying the program
are linked to suggestions for enactment. They also vary
in the types of teacher and student material provided to
make the program readily usable. Some programs pro-
vide curriculum guides with suggestions for enactment
and for evaluation along with information about the ra-
tionale for the activities and educative materials that
help teachers with their own understanding of content
and student learning. Other programs provide sugges-
tions but have many fewer examples of how to enact
these suggestions, such as strategies for scaffolding stu-
dent learning or for building communities of learners.
Still others provide reading materials, problems to solve,
and suggestions for students to follow when conducting
inquiry via information or data gathering. Others also
provide software to aid in knowledge construction.
When materials are not extensively developed and
teachers play a central role in carrying out the learning
environment, teachers need to have a greater range and
depth of expertise to successfully meet the goals envi-
sioned by designers of the learning environment. This
point is discussed more fully in the section on teachers.
Social Organization
A community of practice describes a situation where
people are engaged in a collective process of learning that
produces common norms, practices, and frameworks for
knowledge (Lave & Wenger, 1991; Wenger, 1998). Over
time, they develop a common sense of purpose and shared
understandings. The communities may have one or sev-
eral foci. The understandings can involve professional
practices such as how problems are framed and solved.
The solutions entail processes such as how evidence is
collected, what counts as evidence, and how evidence is
interpreted or solutions justified. Discourse, how mem-
bers of a discipline communicate, is another aspect of
community that often is emphasized in learning environ-
ments. Here students report findings and interpretations
in language that mirrors those of the subject area. The
discourse emphasizes the difference between everyday
language and styles and the more formal ones of the sub-
ject matter areas. Language and patterns of social inter-
action and debate shape meaning making and help
students understand how knowledge is built and verified
in the discipline (A. L. Brown, Metz, & Campione, 1996;
Rogoff, 1995). For instance, in Guided Inquiry support-
ing Multiple Literacies (GIsML), an approach to science
instruction developed by Palincsar and Magnusson (2001;
Magnusson & Palincsar, 1995), the learning environment
is designed around the notion of community. A tenet of
GIsML instruction is that science classrooms are commu-
nities that should reflect key elements of the culture of
science. In GIsML classrooms, teachers and students en-
gage in a collective process of learning that produces
shared understandings of scientific ideas and practices.
Science learning involves becoming socialized into the
practices of science, such as using the discourse tools of
Features and Descriptions of Learning Environments 305
talking, listening, reading, and writing. Language, then,
is considered central and necessary for constructing sci-
entific understanding.
Some learning environments are less formal in their
focus on disciplinary practice and discourse. They stress
intentional learning that is fostered by developing group
knowledge about a topic through asking questions, infor-
mation gathering, debating, critiquing, and synthesizing.
For instance, in A. L. Brown and Campiones (1994,
1998) Fostering Communities of Learners, students se-
lect a topic of interest, break into cooperative jigsaw
groups, and share with peers who have collected other in-
formation. Together they synthesize the information and
apply the principles derived to solve problems or pursue
further questions. Similar interactions are promoted
by the Computer-Supported Intentional Learning Envi-
ronments (CSILE; Scardamalia & Bereiter, 1991). The
environment provides a community space that supports
collaborative inquiry through information searching and
sharing for the purpose of knowledge building. The class
explores a common topic and posts information and com-
ments about the information on the multimedia commu-
nity knowledge space.
Learning environments often are linked to communi-
ties that extend beyond the classroom in various ways.
Some encourage community participation, such as draw-
ing on funds of knowledge (Moll, Amanti, Neff, &
Gonzalez, 1992) to bring skills, knowledge, and experi-
ences related to student background to bear on subject
matter. Some attempt to bridge in- and out-of-school dis-
course and ways of knowing (Lee, 2002; Moje, Collazo,
Carrillo, & Marx, 2001) by drawing on commonly held
beliefs and contrasting these with how experts in the
discipline might study and explain a phenomenon. Com-
munity engagement is encouraged as students survey
communities and present findings to audiences in the
community, such as local interest groups and students in
other classes or in other schools via Web-based publica-
tion. Technology-based learning environments, such as
Kids as Global Scientists (Songer, 1996) and WISE, often
connect students with graduate students or scientists via
telecommunication; students share data, ask questions
about findings or interpretations, or get feedback on their
artifacts. Students often collaborate with other students
across school sites to collect, share, and interpret data.
Teacher
Teacher responsibility in learning environments varies
with respect to topic selection, task design, and assess-
ment. Some programs have built-in topics and instruc-
tional sequences, whereas in others teachers can choose
from a list of designated topics and set their own se-
quence. Some include a combination of both. For in-
stance, in GIsML, teachers use a heuristic to design
their own approach to suggested topics. The heuristic
conceptualizes instruction in guided inquiry science as
a series of cycles of investigation involving engagement,
investigation, and reporting. Teachers play a central role
in orchestrating instruction by guiding students through
cycles at an appropriate pace and ensuring that students
develop scientific knowledge and reasoning. WISE pro-
vides a library of inquiry projects for which materials,
including lesson plans, have been developed. WISE
teachers can use the projects as stand-alone science
units or integrate them into their existing curricula.
Few, if any, programs leave task design solely to
teachers. Some come with intelligent instructional soft-
ware that provides specific hierarchical tasks and guides
student learning, such as Cognitive Tutors (Aleven &
Koedinger, 2002) and the computer-based reading envi-
ronment Literacy Innovation That Speech Technology
Enables (LISTEN; Mostow & Aist, 2001; Mostow &
Beck, in press). Other programs, such as Project Based
Science (PBS), offer comprehensive materials for teach-
ers that include suggested tasks but assume that teachers
will adapt them to local conditions. The key is that the
adaptations made by teachers are congruent with the un-
derlying principles on which the learning environments
are designed.
All programs include assessments for evaluating stu-
dent understanding. They differ in how much the teacher
is encouraged to use classroom-based assessments to in-
form instruction. Some programs include pretests and
posttests. Several programs also encourage teachers to
create their own assessments; for instance, they may
provide guidelines for how students might create a mul-
timedia presentation to showcase learning. Many pro-
grams also encourage evaluation of artifacts and provide
rubrics for doing so. Other programs contain built-in as-
sessments that determine whether students can progress
to higher-level activities. For instance, in the after-
school program Fifth Dimension (K. Brown & Cole,
2002; Cole, 1995), children must achieve goals speci-
fied on task cards before moving to the next level of ac-
tivities. Most of the activities use educational software
and computer games that emphasize problem-solving
and literacy skills across a range of content areas, in-
cluding math, language arts, social studies, science,
306 Learning Environments
technology, and fine arts. Task cards accompany each
activity and help children get started, specify expected
achievements, and provide information for obtaining a
credential as an expert in the Fifth Dimension. Simi-
larly, students cannot progress in Cognitive Tutors un-
less they reach a certain degree of proficiency in solving
math problems at their current level.
The role of the teacher varies considerably. In some en-
vironments, the teachers position in enacting the learn-
ing environment is central to helping students meet their
goals. For instance, instructional efforts by the teacher to
scaffold student learning, diagnose difficulties, and as-
sess understanding is an important part of making WISE
work. In Connected Mathematics, the teacher works
closely with students to help them make sense of the
problems under study. In contrast, guiding student under-
standing is less critical in Cognitive Tutors and LISTEN,
where the technology provides a high level of guidance
and is the major influence on student learning.
The more teachers have responsibility for topic selec-
tion and design, the greater the range of competencies
they must have to make learning environments work.
Subject matter knowledge refers to the understanding of
the key ideas, the connection among ideas, disciplinary
practices, and the nature of the discipline. Some envi-
ronments, such as Cognitive Tutors, are based on a care-
ful analysis of learning so that the teacher does not need
to have as deep an understanding of subject matter as in
a program like CSILE or Fostering Communities of
Learners. In the case of knowledge-building programs
like CSILE, teachers must be able to select topics, un-
derstand key ideas, and assess understanding based on
their own expertise.
Curricular knowledge refers to how to design and se-
quence tasks. Some programs, such as WISE, are de-
signed to supplement the curriculum so that teachers
must decide how to best incorporate Web-based inquiry
into their existing curricular structure in a manner that
enhances what already exists. Other programs, such as
PBS, are designed to replace existing units within a
curriculum; a teacher needs to determine what the
learning environment affords, the new units benefits,
and whether it fits well with other aspects of the cur-
riculum to determine whether to make a substitution.
Knowledge of students refers to teachers ability to
draw on student prior knowledge and skills, student ex-
periences, and student motivation as the basis for content
representation and diagnosis of student understanding.
As in the other areas of competence, the more the teacher
is central to content representationproviding exam-
ples, activities, evaluationsthe greater the degree of
knowledge of students the teacher must have.
Pedagogical expertise refers to knowledge of differ-
ent types of instructional formats: discussion, small
group work, or demonstrations and how to carry them
out. In learning environments, the pedagogy also in-
cludes how to enact these instructional formats and sup-
port student learning in a manner that is warranted,
given the premises underlying program design. For in-
stance, in Connected Mathematics, teachers need to
be able to support group problem solving; in GIsML,
teachers need to actively guide students through an in-
quiry cycle; in WISE, teachers scaffold students Web
searches; in CSILE, the teacher has to understand and
carry out the knowledge-building process according to
how it is conceptualized by the Knowledge Forum and
create a community of learners while doing so.
Technology expertise, including knowledge of how to
use and maintain the technology (troubleshooting) and
how to use the technology as a learning tool for students,
is critical in some learning environments. Those that
use highly structured technology programs where the
teacher is not central require somewhat less expertise
about using the technology as a learning tool, yet still re-
quire the teacher to be a skilled troubleshooter. Other
technology-based programs, such as WISE, Kids as
Global Scientists, BGuILE, and GEODE, require con-
siderable expertise in helping students exploit the bene-
fits of the technology to support thinking.
Technology
Learning environments utilize a variety of technologies
for a range of purposes. Participants in many innovative
learning environments are actively involved in informa-
tion gathering, such as searching on the Internet, infor-
mation sharing by means of e-mail or instant messaging,
and using simulations to generate information for
further study, data modeling to aid in information assim-
ilation, and information representation tools like visuali-
zation software. For example, students interacting with
ThinkerTools software (White, 1993) learn about basic
principles of physics through direct interaction with sim-
ulations of force and motion phenomena. Online learning
environments and workspaces, such as WISE and
CSILE, provide custom-designed software tools to sup-
port students knowledge building and knowledge inte-
gration. These types of environments are often designed
to foster collaboration. CSILE provides a communal
Features and Descriptions of Learning Environments 307
database and Web-based communication tools; WISE
has interfaces to support collaboration around the tech-
nology and via the technology. Other computer-based en-
vironments are designed for individual work. Cognitive
Tutor software assigns problems to students on an indi-
vidual basis, monitors students solution steps, and pro-
vides feedback and hints. LISTEN software displays
stories on a computer screen and provides individual as-
sistance as children read aloud.
Computer-based environments such as Cognitive
Tutors and LISTEN have technology as the core of the
learning environment. Although other components may
augment the technology in these programs, the technol-
ogy is the main delivery system for instruction. For in-
stance, in Cognitive Tutors, group problem-solving
tasks and discussions are meant to support or reinforce
the learning targeted by the instructional software.
Whereas some computer-based environments may con-
tain all of the content, others, like CSILE and WISE,
help to organize learning by scaffolding individual or
group research processes. Still other programs may use
a variety of technologies, but these are not the key ele-
ments of the environment. In Connected Mathematics,
LBD, and Project Based Science, technology tools are
intended to leverage learning within the environment.
For example, in Project Based Science, technology is
utilized to support students as they create artifacts of
their learning, such as using handheld computers to cre-
ate concepts maps.
Assessment
Most learning environments include or recommend sev-
eral types of assessments to evaluate participants
learning, although some types are more critical than
others. Individual and group portfolios, student reports
and presentations, and pretests and posttests are charac-
teristic of many programs. In some, the design and eval-
uation of artifacts is central. In an LBD physical science
unit, for instance, students design and build miniature
vehicles. As students go through the design process,
they move back and forth between cycles of design and
redesign as they design, build, and test miniature vehi-
cles that can travel over varied surfaces (Kolodner,
Camp, et al., 2003).
Discipline-based programs focus on all or some of the
following targets: content knowledge, reasoning skills,
and the nature of the discipline. Those that are more
general might include content assessments and also dis-
positions to learning such as intentionality in posing
questions and seeking information to answer those ques-
tions. Some programs also assess motivation in terms of
student interest, feelings of efficacy, and use of learning
strategies.
Program Descriptions
We describe three programs to illustrate variations in
how designers emphasize and instantiate features. The
descriptions include discussion of features that are cen-
tral to the learning environment depicted; therefore, not
all features are included in an individual program de-
scription even though they may operate in the program.
For instance, many programs include collaboration
among students as they discuss ideas or conduct investi-
gations. However, some programs are specifically de-
signed to foster collaboration, such as Knowledge Forum
and Kids as Global Scientists. Similarly, some programs
include artifact creation as a critical element in evaluat-
ing student learning; others rely on more conventional
assessments even though students do produce artifacts
such as reports.
Project-Based Science
Project-based learning is an approach that has been pop-
ular since Dewey. In the 1980s, TERC (www.terc.edu)
developed a project curriculum that incorporated new
telecommunication technology. It posed questions about
environmental topics like air quality and trash decompo-
sition, and students did experiments, collected data, and
shared results with their counterparts in other locations.
More recently, the University of Michigan and the
Detroit Public Schools have worked collaboratively to
design project-based learning environments tied to so-
cial constructivist principles. The projects last from 6 to
8 weeks and are an integral part of the middle school
science curriculum; project content is selected to meet
national science standards proposed by the American
Association for the Advancement of Science (1993) and
the NRC (1996), as well as district and state science ob-
jectives, which are compatible with national standards.
The essential components of project-based science
are that it (a) uses a driving question that encom-
passes science content and activities; ( b) results in a se-
ries of artifacts, or products, that address the question;
(c) allows students to engage in authentic investigations;
(d) involves collaboration among students and teachers;
and (e) supports knowledge construction through use of
308 Learning Environments
learning technologies (for more detailed description of
the components, see Krajcik & Blumenfeld, in press;
Singer, Marx, Krajcik, & Chambers, 2000).
Goals. The standards emphasize the need for stu-
dents to investigate the everyday world. Engaging in in-
quiry is presumed to help students learn science content
and science processes and to experience the academic
framework within which scientists work. Student under-
standing derives from the need for students to plan in-
vestigations, collect and analyze data, keep track of the
process, and evaluate their findings in light of the aim of
the experiment and their own methods. Critical thinking
and problem solving are necessary as students interpret
data, consider discrepancies between their predictions
and findings as well as discrepancies between their
findings and the findings of others, and discuss and de-
bate possible reasons why discrepancies exist. These op-
portunities also help students to understand the nature
of science, such as how questions are generated and in-
vestigated, what counts as evidence, how scientists in-
terpret and report results, and how ideas are advanced
in science.
Improvement in students ability to use scientific
forms of communication is accomplished by highlight-
ing how scientific language, discourses, and writing
genres differ from the technical discourses of other con-
tent areas and from everyday discourse. Students have
opportunities to explain their ideas about scientific phe-
nomena in oral and written form. The experience of in-
quiry in the service of studying questions relevant to
students lives is assumed to contribute to students atti-
tudes toward and valuing of science and to influence
their decisions to take more science courses.
Tasks. A driving question serves to organize sci-
ence content and tasks. Sample questions for projects in-
clude What is the quality of air in my community?
(chemistry); Can good friends make me sick? ( biol-
ogy); and Why do I have to wear a helmet when I ride
my bike? (physics). As students pursue solutions to the
driving question, they develop meaningful understand-
ing of key scientific concepts.
Good questions are related to the real world and re-
flect important aspects of students daily lives. They are
selected to be scientifically worthwhile, to contain rich
science content that reflects standards, and to be feasi-
ble in that students can design and perform investiga-
tions in classrooms to answer the question. Questions
also must be broad enough to generate smaller questions
that students can raise and address depending on their
interests. Although the projects highlight one area of
science, to answer the question students might use con-
cepts from different areas. They also employ math and
literacy skills as they compute results, graph data, and
write reports.
Projects are sequenced within grade levels. A
greater level of scaffolding for science processes and
for technology use is provided earlier in the year. For
example, initial projects might contain benchmark les-
sons helping students learn to make explanations by
stating a claim, citing supporting evidence, and linking
the evidence to a conclusion that supports the claim.
Supports are faded as students become more proficient
in engaging in inquiry and using learning tools. Projects
are also sequenced by grade level. Driving questions for
each year of middle school are designed to encompass
content that is identified by national, state, and/or local
standards for that grade. However, teachers might also
use projects regardless of sequence, which might be
necessary based on circumstances, school calendars,
and individual school policy.
In addition to the real-world nature of the driving
question, PBS contextualizes learning in several ways.
Students experience phenomena by conducting observa-
tions and collecting data in their neighborhoods, such as
taking measurements of water quality of a nearby
stream or collecting indices of air pollution during a
neighborhood walk. These activities draw on students
prior knowledge and experience and serve as anchoring
events that are referred to throughout the project. For in-
stance, teachers use a driving question board that in-
cludes data collected from these activities; they add
information relevant to answering the driving question
as the project progresses.
Students produce artifacts, or products, that represent
their learning. The artifacts reflect emergent states of
knowledge and understanding about solutions to the
driving question. The artifacts are cognitively complex
and are relatively open. For instance, students create
models where they must decide on variables to include,
relationships among the variables, and explanations for
their choices. Students create concept maps to illustrate
relationships among key constructs. They prepare pre-
sentations that are attended by community members and
other teachers and classes. They write books that ad-
dress the driving question to share with younger stu-
dents. Because artifacts are concrete and explicit (e.g., a
Features and Descriptions of Learning Environments 309
physical model, report, videotape, or computer pro-
gram), they can be shared and critiqued. This allows
others (students, teachers, parents, and members of the
community) to provide feedback and permits learners to
reflect on and extend their emergent knowledge and re-
vise their artifacts. The creation and sharing of artifacts
makes doing project-based science more like doing real
science and mirrors the work of scientists.
Technology. PBS makes extensive use of learning
tools (Krajcik, Blumenfeld, Marx, & Soloway, 2000)
that are integrated into the curriculum. They are used to
support the learning goals of the curriculum, rather than
the curriculums being built to capitalize on the technol-
ogys affordances.
Using concepts from learner-centered software de-
sign (Quintana et al., 2004; Soloway, Guzdial, & Hay,
1994), each tool has been designed to take into consider-
ation the unique characteristics of novice learners. Such
tools have specially designed supports that help students
complete inquiry tasks they normally would not be able
to complete. For example, Model-It illustrates principles
of learner-centered design by representing information
in a way that is familiar to learners but also helps to in-
troduce them to more professional or symbolic represen-
tations (Jackson, Krajcik, & Soloway, 2000). Students
select variables, indicate relationships among them, and
then test their models. Similarly, students engage in Web
searches using Artemis, a tool designed to help students
keep track of what they have found and what is useful.
Librarians select Web content to increase the likelihood
that middle schoolers will find material relevant to their
project and with an eye toward appropriate levels of
reading comprehension. To improve access, recent tech-
nology includes handheld computers, so that all students
can have frequent and immediate access to their own
technology tools. These are used in conjunction with
desktop computers located in classrooms and computer
labs. Software for handhelds allows students to draw
representations, share artifacts, store information, and
write explanations.
Learning tools expand the range of questions that stu-
dents can investigate, the types of data and information
that can be collected, and the types of data representa-
tions that can be displayed to aid interpretation. The
tools are used across several curriculum projects and
years, so that students become familiar with them and
can benefit from repeated use (Krajcik et al., 2000; Wu,
Krajcik, & Soloway, 2001). Students can work individu-
ally or collaboratively. When using desktop computers,
students usually work collaboratively because of the
limited number of machines; handhelds, which are less
costly and thereby more plentiful, allow for ubiquitous
individual work.
Teacher. The teacher plays a central role in the
enactment of PBS. Teachers must have considerable
knowledge of the curriculum because they must make
adaptations to fit their circumstances in ways that are
congruent with underlying principles. Knowledge of the
content and of how students learn it is essential because
teachers provide crucial benchmark lessons about science
content and processes that prepare students for inquiry.
Teachers also must be familiar with the technology and
be able to capitalize on its potential as a learning tool for
students. All of this requires support for student learning;
thus, early in the term, teachers do a considerable amount
of scaffolding. They model thinking, structure tasks by
preparing lists of criteria that students can use to evalu-
ate whether the research questions they choose are valu-
able and feasible, and distribute charts to help students
organize data collection and data analysis. Later, stu-
dents are expected to be able to carry out procedures or
produce artifacts with less help.
Assessment. Assessment of learning in individual
projects is based on a combination of student artifacts,
project specific pre- and posttest scores, and content in-
terviews with a sample of students. The tests contain
both closed and open-ended questions that range from
lowto high levels of cognitive difficulty. That is, students
respond to questions about facts and also to scenarios
that ask them to apply their knowledge to a new situation
(Marx et al., 2004). Scores on statewide tests are used to
determine how students who have participated in PBS
curriculum compare with their counterparts who have
engaged in other district-supported standard-based sci-
ence instruction efforts (Geier et al., 2004).
In addition to measures of students learning, a range
of perception and motivation constructs are assessed.
Student perceptions of the classroom environment (e.g.,
real-world nature of the question, opportunities for col-
laboration, and teachers press for understanding) and
its influence on attitudes toward science and technology
and motivation to learn and self-regulation (e.g., use of
learning and metacognitive strategies) are explored
using a combination of surveys and interviews (Blumen-
feld, Soloway, Krajcik, & Marx, 2004).
310 Learning Environments
Instructional Materials. As D. K. Cohen and
Ball (1999) recommend, the curricula and materials we
designed for PBS are highly specified (the theoretical
principles and methods are clearly defined) and devel-
oped (materials for teachers and learners are available
and usable). The materials, developed collaboratively
by science educators, scientists, and classroom teach-
ers, contain extensive information about each lesson in
the project along with reading selections, handouts,
and worksheets. In addition, educative materials for
teachers focus on content and content representation,
potential problems with student understanding, and
suggestions for management to avoid potential enact-
ment problems (Davis & Krajcik, 2005; Schneider &
Krajcik, 2002).
Professional development is tailored to helping
teachers enact the curriculum. Instructional technolo-
gies support the ongoing development of teachers.
Summer institutes and Saturday and late afternoon
working sessions make use of data on student learning
outcomes, content and pedagogical content concerns,
and teacher enactment difficulties (Fishman, Marx,
Best, & Tal, 2003). Technology is also used to support
teachers and to help them manage their instructional
responsibilities. A Web-based teacher support system
called Knowledge Networks on the Web (KNOW;
www.umich.soe.know.edu) was designed and is used to
distribute curriculum materials, illustrate enactment of
lessons, share teacher commentary about enactment is-
sues, and display examples of student work. KNOW
can be accessed by professional development leaders
and by individual teachers who also can query others as
they plan enactments.
Web-Based Integrated Science Environment
An example of a virtual community for learning is the
Web-based Integrated Science Environment (WISE;
http://wise.Berkeley.edu). WISE is an online environ-
ment for middle and high school that engages students in
collaborative inquiry projects, supported by the use of
Web resources (Cuthbert, Clark, & Linn, 2002; Linn,
Davis, & Bell, 2004; Linn & Slotta, 2000).
Technology. WISE utilizes Web-based technology
and the classroom teacher to enable students to engage
in sustained investigations around phenomena as a route
to deepening students scientific understanding. Fea-
tures include a browser-based interface for students, les-
son plans for teachers, and an online library of inquiry
projects. The student interface incorporates an inquiry
map that guides students in their investigation of a topic.
The map provides a level of guidance to enable students
to work independently on a project by showing the steps
that students need to follow as they work. The software
also includes an electronic guidance tool, or an avatar,
that provides hints and reminds students of the purpose
of the activity. Other custom-designed software tools
help students use the Internet to gather and critique evi-
dence, take notes, design approaches, and participate in
online discussions with peers and scientists.
Tasks. WISE projects range from several days to sev-
eral weeks and involve students in investigating scientific
phenomena, designing solutions to problems, critiquing
scientific ideas, and debating real-world scientific contro-
versies (Linn, Clark, & Slotta, 2003; Slotta, 2004). Typi-
cal projects involve students in such diverse activities as
investigating the nature and cause of frog deformities, de-
signing a house that is comfortable for desert living, and
debating different perspectives on how to control malaria
worldwide.
Goals. Academic goals of the program include
developing students conceptual understanding of
standards-based science content (NRC, 1996) and pro-
moting scientific, language, and technology literacy
skills (Linn & Slotta, 2000). Social and interpersonal
goals focus on promoting students autonomy in learn-
ing, helping students to learn from peers, and promot-
ing a positive disposition toward science.
Social Organization. WISE science instruction
emphasizes knowledge building within a scientifically
oriented classroom community (Linn, Clark, & Slotta,
2003). Students primarily work collaboratively and in-
dependently in small groups. Web-based communication
tools enable students to connect with peers and scien-
tists to share data, discuss and debate ideas, and report
findings. The classroom teacher interacts with groups as
they progress through a WISE project, guiding and as-
sisting students when necessary. Students and teacher
have a shared purpose of making sense of scientific
ideas and practices.
Instructional Materials. The WISE learning envi-
ronment provides students with an online workspace
for working individually or collaboratively through a se-
Features and Descriptions of Learning Environments 311
quence of activities that constitute an inquiry project.
The workspace is a browser-based interface that helps
students navigate through activity steps by incorporating
prompts, such as pop-up windows for note taking, win-
dows that provide hints, and evidence pages that add
ideas about the topic of inquiry. Online investigations
are further supported by classroom hands-on activities
and explorations. For example, in a project called Plants
in Space, students use the WISE interface and Internet
resources to investigate plant life and explore different
conditions for growing plants on earth and growing
plants in space (Williams & Linn, 2002). They collabo-
ratively create a small hydroponics garden in their class-
room and conduct investigations of their plants to
analyze factors relevant to plant growth and then use
their analyses to consider factors important for plant
growth in a space station environment. The project in-
volves students in critiquing Web evidence regarding
factors for plant growth, such as soil, water, air, and
light; participating in online discussions with peers and
scientists; and critiquing additional evidence to deter-
mine feasibility of particular plants for growth in a
space station environment. Students conduct daily obser-
vations on plant growth and development from their own
garden as well as local gardens, design and carry out in-
vestigations on their plants, and report their recommen-
dations for growing plants in space. The WISE interface
provides students with information on plants, as well as
additional evidence on conditions on space stations to
help raise questions and guide the investigation of ideas
about plant growth. WISE software helps students keep
track of data, take notes on evidence, and then use evi-
dence to respond to questions and speculate on which
plants would be the best option for a space station envi-
ronment. Student-generated artifacts, such as notes from
investigations and presentations, are intended to rein-
force literacy skills and showcase learning.
WISE projects are designed to appeal to students in-
terests and curiosities, relate to real-world scientific
topics, and help students develop scientific inquiry
skills. Projects are created collaboratively through part-
nerships with a wide range of participants from science
agencies, professional organizations, museums, schools,
and universities. For instance, the Plants in Space
project partnership included scientists, classroom teach-
ers, science education researchers, and technology spe-
cialists (Williams & Linn, 2002). WISE partners work
together to design a pilot project, observe its implemen-
tation in classrooms, and then refine the project based
on the classroom trials. These design teams follow de-
sign principles that draw from a theory of learning as
scaffolded knowledge integration (Linn, Davis, &
Eylon, 2004). This perspective suggests that cohesive
understanding is best promoted when learners are sup-
ported in connecting new ideas and perspectives to their
ideas about the scientific phenomenon they are investi-
gating (Linn, Davis, & Eylon, 2004). WISE design
teams use the scaffolded knowledge integration per-
spective to create discipline-focused activities and tech-
nology features to support student inquiry in WISE
projects. In addition, WISE provides an online authoring
environment to enable design teams to create and refine
diverse curriculum projects that align with WISE design
principles and relevant science standards (Linn, Clark,
& Slotta, 2003). WISE partnerships have designed and
refined an online library of more than 50 inquiry proj-
ects (Shear, Bell, & Linn, 2004).
Teacher. WISE provides the classroom teacher
with online support that includes a curriculum library of
inquiry projects with accompanying lesson plans, de-
scriptions of learning goals, information on likely stu-
dent prior conceptions, assessments, and links to
national science standards. The teacher workspace pro-
vides scaffolds to help teachers plan and run WISE proj-
ects. Technology features that support teachers include
grading tools, classroom management tools, formative
assessment tools, and customization tools that enable
teachers to tailor projects. The projects are intended to
be flexible and adaptive for teachers so that they can
easily incorporate them into existing science programs.
This flexibility enables teachers to select a project for
use as part of a larger unit of study, or use a project as a
stand-alone science unit. The role of the teacher, then, is
to select relevant projects from the WISE online library
and customize them for local classroom use. The
teachers role also is to facilitate student work through a
project. The teacher interacts with small groups of stu-
dents, assisting them in interpreting Web-gathered in-
formation and materials and helping them to link their
experiences with scientific concepts (Slotta, 2004).
Assessment. To assess content learning, the
teacher has online access to multiple-choice and short-
essay subject matter tests. WISE also incorporates
opportunities for students to create artifacts and
312 Learning Environments
presentations that can serve as assessments of science
content and inquiry skills.
Cognitive Tutors
Researchers at the Pittsburgh Advanced Cognitive
Tutor Center have developed computer-based learning
environments, called Cognitive Tutors, for high school
mathematics classrooms (Aleven & Koedinger, 2002;
Anderson, Corbett, Koedinger, & Pelletier, 1995; Cor-
bett, Koedinger, & Hadley, 2001). A Cognitive Tutor
program integrates classroom instruction with intelli-
gent instructional software that provides students with
individual support for math learning. The program is a
full curriculum, composed of classroom learning activ-
ities, student text materials, and instructional software.
Goals. The Cognitive Tutor curriculum is aligned
with standards for mathematics instruction and curricu-
lum emphasized by the National Council of Teachers of
Mathematics (2000). Goals of the program include de-
veloping students math problem-solving abilities and
deepening procedural and conceptual knowledge as a
means to raise students mathematics achievement.
Tasks. Cognitive Tutor software assigns problems to
students individually, monitors students solution steps,
and provides feedback and hints. The Geometry Cogni-
tive Tutor, for instance, presents students with geometry
problems dealing with such concepts as angles, area, and
the Pythagorean theorem (Aleven & Koedinger, 2002).
The tutor displays error messages in response to mistakes,
provides a geometry glossary and on-demand hints, and
keeps track of students mastery of each skill to be
learned. The tutor is part of an integrated full-year geom-
etry curriculum called Cognitive Tutor Geometry. In
addition to geometry, Cognitive Tutor software and cur-
ricula have been developed for high school algebra and
integrated mathematics courses.
Tasks presented by the tutor are problems that con-
nect to real-world situations. For instance, the algebra
tutor emphasizes algebraic reasoning through such prob-
lems as estimating the cost of a car rental, planning
profits for shoveling snow, and organizing to sell ads for
a school yearbook (Corbett, McLaughlin, Scarpinatto,
& Hadley, 2000). Problems involve multiple math con-
cepts and skills and provide extensive skill practice. The
tutor provides a problem-solving space consisting of
question sets, worksheets in a window, and feedback
that ensures students reach a successful solution (Cor-
bett et al., 2000).
Instructional Materials. The design of Cognitive
Tutors is based on principles that draw from adaptive
character of thought (ACT-R) theory, which proposes
that complex cognition arises from an interaction be-
tween declarative knowledge of information and proce-
dural knowledge of how to use information to do various
cognitive tasks (Anderson, 1993, 1996; Anderson &
Schunn, 2000). A fundamental assumption of ACT-R is
that procedural knowledge can be learned only by doing.
Tutor software is designed, then, to provide skill practice
in a variety of problem-solving contexts so that students
can acquire and strengthen their procedural knowledge
(Anderson, 1993).
Accompanying the software are instructional materi-
als that help orchestrate whole-class instruction and col-
laborative problem-solving activities that emphasize
real-world situations. The materials include a problem-
based textbook for students and a teachers guide that
consists of assignments, assessments, teaching sugges-
tions, and classroom management techniques. The pur-
pose of the textbook and classroom activities is to
parallel and extend the development of concepts empha-
sized in the software.
Technology. The tutor software is specially de-
signed for monitoring individual students problem solv-
ing. Cognitive Tutors are able to monitor students
problem-solving performance and keep track of their
mastery of each skill to be learned. To do this, each
Cognitive Tutor employs a cognitive model that repre-
sents the skills and strategies of students at various lev-
els of competence (Corbett, Koedinger, & Hadley,
2001). The tutor uses the model to analyze an individual
students problem-solving performance. When a student
makes an error and cannot produce the correct action,
the tutor suggests what action should be taken. The tu-
tors provide tailored practice on math skills until stu-
dents reach mastery performance levels. Once a student
reaches a mastery level of performance in a particular
section of a tutor curriculum, the tutor stops presenting
new problems. In this way, a students learning time is
spent on strengthening requisite skills for successful
problem solving.
Because the tutor is meant to provide suggestions to a
student when that student experiences difficulty, the
tutors ability to diagnose student errors and provide use-
Features and Descriptions of Learning Environments 313
ful feedback is crucial. For a tutor to diagnose effec-
tively and give feedback requires that its cognitive
model be based on an accurate task analysis. In the de-
sign of a tutor, a task analysis is done for each task to de-
velop cognitive models to represent the competencies
required to complete each task. The strength of such an
analysis is that the cognitive processes engaged in solv-
ing a problem are thoroughly mapped. With some degree
of certainty, then, the tutor is able to match errors to a
family of error types and is thus able to take advantage of
prior knowledge and enable careful scaffolding by fol-
lowing students solution paths through the problem-
solving space. For instance, when an error occurs, the
tutor initially displays an error message and provides on-
demand hints, with multiple levels of hints available for
each step of a problem to ensure that the correct path to a
solution is followed. Seeing a brief error message, the
student is allowed to correct errors without assistance.
Multiple hint levels allow the student to succeed with
minimum possible assistance. Problems are selected and
designed to reflect real-world situations and allow for
the practice of specific skills. Multiple representations
from the discipline (tables, graphs, symbolic expres-
sions) are built into the software.
Teacher. The Cognitive Tutor curriculum integrates
individual tutor use with classroom instruction and col-
laborative problem-solving practice. Students spend
about 40% of classroom time working individually on
problems assigned by the tutor and the remaining time
engaged in collaborative problem-solving activities and
whole-class instruction (Aleven &Koedinger, 2002). The
role of the teacher is to facilitate the problem-solving ac-
tivities and class discussions and circulate and assist stu-
dents as they work in the tutor environment. To succeed,
the teacher needs to have subject matter knowledge, be
familiar with tutor software, and be comfortable in facil-
itating collaborative problem solving.
Assessment. Assessment is an integral part of the
Cognitive Tutor curriculum. Cognitive Tutor software
includes step-by-step assessments of students mathe-
matical skills and provides a skill report to identify
math skills levels and progress for each student. Assess-
ment tools are also provided in the teachers materials
and include pretests and culminating exams, quizzes
(answer keys provided), and rubrics for grading class
presentations. Teachers are also encouraged to create
and share their own assessments, consisting of quizzes
and tests, on an online teacher community.
Comparing Programs
Table 8.3 compares six programs across the features of
learning environments. The table characterizes and al-
lows comparison of several widely used learning envi-
ronments. Our point is to illustrate commonality and
variety in the design of learning environments. The en-
tries in Table 8.3 use language that we have drawn from
respective descriptions of the programs. In some in-
stances, programs describe similar features, but use dif-
ferent terms.
Summary
The environments described in this section have aca-
demic goals, are theoretically based, wide in scope,
and have published research on their effectiveness.
The descriptions illustrate that while programs have
similar features, they differ in how each translates
theory into practice. One difference is in which fea-
tures are central to a particular learning environment.
For instance, technology is the core in many programs;
in others it is secondary or not present at all. Another
difference is that content might be addressed using
problem, project or design based units. Content might
be linked to students daily lives or in issues that are
derived from those encountered by scientists, mathe-
maticians, or other experts.
Goals usually focus on understanding of the content
and processes of a discipline. Development of expertise
is an aim shared by most learning environments, and
some programs emphasize intentional learning as a goal.
Age related developmental goals are mostly absent, al-
though program features match recommendations for
instruction based on developmental needs of late ele-
mentary and middle school students. Highly sequenced
learning environments are usually based on information
processing theory, which emphasizes individual con-
struction of knowledge. To guide knowledge develop-
ment these environments rely on detailed models of
expert and novice thinking. Other environments empha-
size social aspects of learning and focus on development
of learning communities.
The success of any learning environment depends on
the teacher, although the programs vary with respect to
teachers roles. In some programs, much of the burden of
instruction is shared with technological tools or materials
314
TABLE 8.3 Program Comparisons
Goals
Program Academic
Social and
Interpersonal Habits of Mind Developmental
Connected Mathematics
(Lappan et al., 2002; Lappan
& Phillips, 1998; Reys et al.,
2003)
Math knowledge,
understanding, and
skill; math content and
process goals aligned
with national standards
Mutually supportive
learning
Become independent
learners; intellectual
methods of the
discipline
CSILE/ Knowledge Forum
(Bereiter & Scardamalia,
2003; Scardamalia, 2004;
Scardamalia & Bereiter,
1994; Scardamalia, Bereiter,
& Lamon, 1994)
Knowledge-building
skills; deep
understanding in
different academic
domains
Interpersonal skills Habits of mind for
lifelong learning;
intentional learners
Fifth Dimension
(Cole, 1995; K. Brown &
Cole, 2000, 2002; Gallego &
Cole, 2000)
Learning through play:
Cognitive outcomes
include computer
literacy, comprehension,
and problem-solving
skills
Build relationships
between children and
young adults
Develop autonomy,
knowledge, and skills
for everyday practices
Extend childrens
cognitive and social
development
GenScope/ BioLogica
(Horwit z & Christie, 2000;
Hickey, Kindfield, Horwit z,
& Christie, 1999, 2003;
Hickey, Wolfe, & Kindfield,
2000; Horwit z, Neumann, &
Schwart z, 1996)
Use basic concepts in
genetics to reason and
solve problems in the
domain
Acquire the habits of
mind of professional
scientists
GIsML
(Hapgood, Magnusson, &
Palincsar, 2004; Magnusson
& Palincsar, 1995; Palincsar
& Magnusson, 2001;
Palincsar, Magnusson,
Collins, & Cutter, 2001)
Science content
understandings;
scientific reasoning
Work in a community of
learners
Enculturation into
scientific community
Kids as Global
Scientists/ BioKIDS
(Huber, Songer, & Lee,
2003; Mistler-Jackson &
Songer, 2000; Songer, 1996,
in press; Songer, Lee, &
Kam, 2002)
Conceptual
understanding of
standards-based science
content; longitudinal
development of
scientific reasoning
skills; technology skills
Positive motivational
beliefs toward science
Develop understanding
of nature of science
Tasks
Program Content Sequence Authenticity Contextualization Artifacts
Connected
Mathematics
Math problem-
solving activities
Sequenced to develop
understanding and
skills
Real-world, purely
mathematical, and
whimsical situations
Problem-centered:
Math concepts
embedded in
problems
Represent learning
CSILE/ Knowledge
Forum
Knowledge-building
workspace to produce
and improve ideas
Open sequence:
Supports multiple
curriculum areas
Tied to interest of
classroom community
Self-selected
inquiry by students
and/or teacher
Contribute to
community
knowledge
Fifth Dimension Problem-solving and
communication
activities
Children move
through a maze of
activities at own pace
Children select
activities and level
of challenge
Socially oriented Illustrate how
tasks were
accomplished
315
TABLE 8.3 Continued
Tasks
Program Content Sequence Authenticity Contextualization Artifacts
GenScope/
BioLogica
Genetics problem-
solving activities
Interactive software
presents problems
and guides learning
Tied to student
interest; domain-
focused
Framed by the
domain: Tasks focus
on genetics
Represent students
mental models
GIsML Inquiry science
investigations
Cycle of
investigation guided
by teacher
Real-world science;
firsthand and
secondhand
investigations
Knowledge
production in a
scientific community
Ref lect content
knowledge and
reasoning skills
Kids as Global
Scientists/ BioKIDS
Inquiry-focused
activities
Sequenced to
support inquiry
readiness and foster
science learning
Real-world;
discipline-based
Interactive inquiry
around science
themes
Showcase content
and inquiry
knowledge
acquisition
Instructional Materials
Program Theoretical Explicitness Detail for Enacting Resources
Connected
Mathematics
Drawn from cognitive sciences
research: Students develop
understandings from direct
experience with mathematics
Complete middle school
curriculum; comprehensive guides
for enactment
Teachers follow a guidebook;
students use unit books
CSILE/ Knowledge
Forum
Principles of knowledge building Online knowledge-building courses,
resources, discussions, and tutorials
for teachers
Online workspace is used by teacher
and students; scaffolds and
resources for students in workspace
Fifth Dimension Design principles derive from
cultural-historical activity theory;
explicit principles for site design
General implementation guidelines
for site design and management;
core principles frame program
design
Adaptable model: Each site is run
by a community and university
partnership that develops a unique
program based on core principles
GenScope/
BioLogica
Model-based teaching and learning
framework: Learners need to
construct , elaborate, and revise
mental models of biological
phenomena
Online demonstration of Web-based
lab activities illustrates use for
teacher and students; activities can
supplement or supplant teachers
course
Teacher guide and student
worksheets; software provides
prompts for students as they engage
in investigations
GIsML Sociocultural theory: Learning
arises from individual activity and
social interaction in the social and
cultural world
Teacher learns tenets of GIsML
instruction via professional
development; unit activities provided
Teachers guide for supporting use
of student text materials
Kids as Global
Scientists/ BioKIDS
Constructivist learning theory and
learning cycle approach serve as
theoretical frame; promoting
readiness for inquiry provides
explicit guidance in design
Downloadable curriculum to help
teachers plan and enact lessons:
Includes descriptions of activities,
information on using digital
resources, annotated student
worksheets
Curriculum binder consisting of
teacher guide and student
worksheets; handheld software;
online database for students and
teachers
(continued)
316
TABLE 8.3 Continued
Social Organization
Program Structure Communities of Practice Beyond the Classroom
Connected
Mathematics
Multiple arrangements: Individual,
pairs, small groups, and whole class
Ways of thinking, reasoning, and
communicating in mathematics
Home connections: Newsletters and
activities for home
CSILE/ Knowledge
Forum
Collaborative knowledge work within
a multimedia community space
Knowledge-building practices and
discourse
Online network of databases for
community participation
Fifth Dimension Children pair with adult mentors as
coparticipants
Social and discourse practices in a
playful activity system
Cross-site activities via
communication technologies
GenScope/
BioLogica
Pairs or individual students engage
in activities
Practices of the scientific
community; focus on scientific
inquiry and reasoning
GIsML Students work together with
guidance and support from teacher
Cultural elements of the scientific
community: Scientific values,
conventions, norms, beliefs
Kids as Global
Scientists/ BioKIDS
Students work collaboratively with
teacher as guide and facilitator
Inquiry knowledge development in a
learning community: Science
inquiry reasoning, communication
Online discussions and data sharing
with peers at other school sites and
with experts; students utilize
Internet resources
Teacher
Program Responsibility Centrality Competencies
Connected
Mathematics
Enact curriculum units; assign
homework; assess student work
Primary position in enacting; work
closely with students to make sense
of math
Facilitate problem-centered
curriculum; pedagogical expertise
CSILE/ Knowledge
Forum
Prepare students for knowledge-
building work; set expectations;
initiate inquiry
Allow for student-directed inquiry;
scaffold students in the process of
knowledge building
Understand knowledge-building
process; technology expertise
Fifth Dimension College-age adults partner with
children throughout every activity
Role of teacher and learner is
f lexibly shared by adults and
children; adults guide as much as
necessary for children to make
progress and have fun
Ability to regulate the quality of
interaction around the tasks;
maintain role as a capable peer
GenScope
/ BioLogica
Coordinate class and computer
activities; assess student progress
Monitor students during computer
activities; lead peripheral activities;
provide individual assistance to
students as needed
Course planning; integrate
computer activities with classroom
activities; technology expertise
GIsML Determine the initial inquiry; guide
and shape students interactions
with materials, ideas, and
classmates
Central role in mediating students
interactions: Guide students through
the inquiry cycle
Knowledgeable about science
content , nature of science, and
scientific practices; support
students knowledge building
Kids as Global
Scientists/ BioKIDS
Adapt program for classroom use;
guide inquiry activities; assess
student work
Key facilitator for learning: Guide
students through inquiry phases as
they investigate and research
Ability to tailor lessons to support
students; science content and
technology knowledge
Technology
Program Tools Centrality Function
Connected
Mathematics
Graphing calculators; optional
computers and third-party
commercial software
Students use calculators regularly;
computer software activities are
optional
Calculators are integrated into the
curriculum as a tool for solving
problems
CSILE/ Knowledge
Forum
Electronic group workspace:
Communal database and Web-based
communication tools
Workspace is used for note taking,
searching, organizing, and sharing
information
Scaffold individual or group
research process
Features and Descriptions of Learning Environments 317
TABLE 8.3 Continued
Technology
Program Tools Centrality Function
Fifth Dimension Computers and third-party
commercial educational software
Computer software and
telecommunications activities are
pervasive
Computer-mediated activity that
interweaves play and learning
GenScope/
BioLogica
Computer-based software learning
environment consisting of custom-
designed tools for exploring genetics
Technology-supported science
learning: Structures and guides
learning activities
Provide individual students with a
sequence of activities and scaffolds
for investigation work
GIsML Technology, such as computers and
software, used to leverage learning
Technology used when
advantageous to make ideas visible
for students
Support the development of
conceptual understanding
Kids as Global
Scientists/ BioKIDS
Web-based databases, handheld
technology, and the Internet for
interactive inquiry
Technology tools and resources
utilized in inquiry activities
Scaffold inquiry process for
students: Technology used to gather
and organize data, analyze data,
communicate with peers and
experts, and create reports and
presentations
Assessment
Program Types Targets
Connected
Mathematics
Pencil-and-paper quizzes and unit tests; self-
assessments; projects
Math concepts and skills; disposition toward
mathematics; work habits
CSILE/ Knowledge
Forum
Individual and group portfolios of research work;
reports, multimedia presentations, and demonstrations
Depth of understanding and ways of thinking in
different academic areas
Fifth Dimension Children complete task cards after each activity;
progress is noted in a log
Monitor students progress through activities
GenScope/
BioLogica
Electronic portfolios of students investigations Modeling and explanation of processes and mechanisms
of genetics
GIsML Student reports and presentations; written responses in
science notebook
Understanding of science concepts; scientific reasoning
and explanation
Kids as Global
Scientists/ BioKIDS
Individual and group generated artifacts and
presentations
Science content knowledge and scientific inquiry
abilities
on the Internet. In others, teachers have the primary role
in instruction so that they have considerable responsibil-
ity for making instructional choices such as what ques-
tions or topics to pursue, how to represent content, and
how to adapt the learning environment materials in a
manner that is congruent with basic premises but also tai-
lored to specific circumstances. These types of environ-
ments require greater teacher knowledge of content and
pedagogy and of the principles that guide the design in
order for goals to be achieved.
All programs make use of artifacts as reflections of
student understanding. Students synthesize and apply
concepts through artifact creation and revision. How-
ever, program developers also are under pressure from
funding agencies and school systems to demonstrate
effects on more conventional and widely understood
methods. Most use performance on curriculum specific
tests and on high stakes standardized tests as evidence
of increased achievement.
The criteria we used narrowed the range of pro-
grams included in our descriptions, although even in
this limited sample there is considerable variation in
how features are designed. Our descriptive framework
differentiates specific aspects within each feature and
therefore is useful for providing considerable detail
about overall program design. Researchers, designers
and practitioners can use this detailed information to
match their ideas about development of a learning envi-
ronment with ones that already contain aspects of inter-
est in each feature. Developers then might look across
programs to study techniques for instantiating these as-
pects and making modifications to fit their goals.
318 Learning Environments
DESIGN AND IMPLEMENTATION OF
LEARNING ENVIRONMENTS: INTERPLAY
OF THEORY AND PRACTICE
In this section, we describe how theory is used to design
learning environments, how data are gathered on enact-
ment and student outcomes to shape design revision, and
how this cycle helps to inform theory and practice. We
begin by examining the role that design principles play in
guiding the development process. We then illustrate the
process by showing how difficulties in implementation
common to many learning environments are addressed via
iterative cycles of implementation, evaluation, and revi-
sion. Finally, we discuss debates about the merits of de-
sign research, which is used extensively in the field of
learning environments.
Design Principles
The design and building of learning environments is an
iterative process. As illustrated in the previous section,
most programs use theory as the basis for design. Devel-
opers collect data on enactment and outcomes and revise
features that do not work as anticipated. As Ann L.
Brown (1992) argued in her groundbreaking paper on
design experiments, the idea is that enactment and the-
ory inform each other; consequently, designers gener-
ally do not see the innovation as a fixed entity. Through
cycles of revision to make features work as intended,
they provide valuable information on how theory works
in practice and under what circumstances. This infor-
mation is used to generate design principles for the cre-
ation of new learning environments.
Design principles bridge the gap between theory and
practice. They are an interpretation of a programs theo-
retical base and are meant to inform the development of
instructional sequences and activities. The initial articu-
lation of design principles is usually tentative, and princi-
ples are revisited and strengthened through the iterative
design process. They are of central concern to program
developers because they provide guidance for the design
process by delineating design principles for environments
and describing instructional practices that make them
work as intended in varying contexts. This more speci-
fied level of theoretical analysis is important because the
results provide direct guidance for organizing instruc-
tion. This is the type of approach Burkhardt and Schoen-
feld (2003) argue is necessary for making progress in
solving tough educational problems. In this way, the iter-
ative work can lead to stronger connections between the-
ory and classroompractice.
Design principles can take different shape and forms.
Some are very general; others are heuristics that inform
sequences and activities; and others dictate the promi-
nent features and how they can be instantiated. One ex-
ample is Edelsons (2001) Learning-for-Use framework,
which is drawn from cognitive science principles. The
framework is meant to help curriculum designers inte-
grate content and process learning in the design of
their own programs. Edelson and colleagues (2001; Edel-
son, Salierno, Matese, Pitts, & Sherin, 2002) are cur-
rently applying this model to the design of technology-
supported science learning environments. His framework
articulates four principles for design: (1) Learning in-
volves the constructing and modifying of knowledge
structures; (2) knowledge construction is a goal-directed
process; (3) situations in which knowledge is constructed
and used determine its accessibility for future use; and
(4) knowledge must be constructed in a usable form be-
fore it can be applied. Note that the principles are not de-
tailed enough to spell out every design decision.
In GIsML, a more specific heuristic is used for the
design and implementation of guided inquiry (Magnus-
son & Palincsar, 1995). The heuristic is based on a
conceptualization of instruction as a series of cycles in-
volving engagement, investigation, and reporting. This
heuristic, derived from a sociocultural perspective, is
intended to reflect how scientific knowledge production
actually occurs in the professional science community.
Because inquiry in the scientific community also in-
volves a combination of firsthand investigation of phe-
nomena and secondhand investigation of the work of
others, the heuristic also emphasizes these culturally
authentic practices. Similarly, LBD design principles
provide guidance for how students can learn science
content and practices in the context of design-and-build
activities. LBDs cognitive constructivist framework
emphasizes the role of routines and procedures in help-
ing learners organize and access their knowledge so that
they can apply it and relate it to new situations (Kolod-
ner, Gray, et al., 2003).
Another example is the backward design framework
of Wiggins and McTighe (1998), which is aimed at cre-
ating effective curricula linked to standards. It begins
with learning outcomes based on standards that specify
what students should know and be able to do. It includes
three stages for design: Identify desired results, deter-
mine acceptable evidence, and plan learning experiences
Design and Implementation of Learning Environments: Interplay of Theory and Practice 319
and instruction. The design process is based on a broad
theory of understanding informed by Dewey (1933),
Bloom (1956), Gardner (1991), and others (see Wiggins
& McTighe, 1998) and is compatible with a range of in-
structional approaches.
Design principles are not detailed enough to spell out
every design decision; they are midlevel propositions
that are not specific enough so that one designers par-
ticular instantiation of the principle can be readily in-
corporated into a different environment. In fact, many
programs derive similar design principles even when
their design principles are not explicitly stated. How-
ever, it is uncommon for researchers to compare instan-
tiations of the same principle across programs to see
which are most effective and under what conditions.
Nor is it common for them to compare different ways to
instantiate design principles within a program or across
programs (Collins, Joseph, & Bielaczyc, 2004). Cobb,
Confrey, diSessa, Lehrer, and Schauble (2003) argue
that designers can help each other avoid pitfalls by re-
porting initial designs and doing retrospective analyses
to explain how experiences informed final designs. One
example is an attempt by Quintana et al. (2004) to cre-
ate common design principles for technology scaffolds
based on a synthesis of others work in the field. An-
other is a recent paper by Puntambekar and Hubscher
(2005), which reviews and critiques the current state of
scaffolding in design. What is needed now is a synthesis
across programs that can be part of a framework of de-
sign principles. The framework presented in the previ-
ous section may prove useful for program designers as
they seek to find principles within each area that might
inform their own efforts.
Iterative Cycles of Design
We provide examples from our own and others work on
how design and implementation interplay to improve
theory. The interplay enables a more well-developed,
grounded, and nuanced understanding of constructs, a
range of examples of the constructs and their interactions
within context, and illustrations of their value for teachers
and students. The data collected usually includes some
combination of classroomfield notes, teacher reports, and
video records of instructional interactions, including
technology use. In addition, evaluation of learning in-
cludes examination of artifacts, student performances,
test scores, and interview responses.
We discuss contextualization and design of learning
tools as examples of how designs are tested and re-
vised. We also highlight findings about consistent
challenges faced by teachers and students that also in-
fluence revision and result in more specified design
principles.
Contextualization
Theoretically, the principle that learning is situated
makes contextualization important for designing learn-
ing environments. Contextualization situates student
learning by making content concrete and meaningful. It
organizes subject matter concepts and skills, helps stu-
dents draw on prior knowledge, provides a common and
continuous reference point for discussion, and motivates
learning. Some programs strive for authenticity in how
contextualization is achieved. Authenticity, as defined
by Newmann and Whelage (1993), involves tasks that
are worthwhile and meaningful for learners, supports
active constructing of knowledge, and reflects discipli-
nary practices.
Bransford and his group (Cognition and Technology
Group at Vanderbilt, 1997) contextualize through an-
choring instruction in a videodisc series called The Ad-
ventures of Jasper Woodbury. The program materials
consist of a series of video-based narrative adventures
that pose problems for fifth- through eighth-grade stu-
dents to solve, such as developing and evaluating a busi-
ness plan for raising funds for a student-run project. All
the information necessary to solve the problem is embed-
ded in the video adventure story. Adventures address
such math topics as introductory statistics, geometry,
and algebra. The problems are created and sequenced
based on a model called the IDEAL problem solver
(Bransford & Stein, 1993). The emphasis of Jasper is on
developing students mathematical problem-solving, rea-
soning, and communication skills.
Others, like Learning by Design (LBD), use the
design of everyday artifacts to organize instruction
around something concrete that students need to build
and test. LBD is an approach to science learning that
has sixth- through eighth-grade students learn science
by engaging in design-and-build challenges (Kolodner,
Camp, et al., 2003). The challenges are centered on the
design and construction of working devices or models
that illustrate science concepts. For example, students
learn about force and motion by designing, building,
and testing miniature vehicles; they learn about the
320 Learning Environments
human respiratory system by designing artificial lungs
and building partial working models; and they learn
about erosion by designing and constructing a model
erosion management system.
Project-based science is organized around a driving
question that is related to students everyday lives. For
instance, students explore ideas about force and motion
to answer the question Why should I wear a helmet
when I ride my bike? In addition, anchoring events
such as a film about head injuries or demonstrations are
used to illustrate big ideas and are referred to through-
out the unit as the focus of discussion as students learn
more about phenomena under study. Students also expe-
rience the phenomena directly whenever feasible, such
as doing an air walk to examine signs of pollution in
their neighborhood.
Contextualization poses problems for instantiating
theory into practice. For instance, there were differ-
ences in the effectiveness of driving questions that were
selected to contextualize PBS units. Students consid-
ered some to be more real-world than others. Those that
focused on ecology, such as What is the quality of air
in my community? were perceived as more relevant
than questions focused on physical science, such as
How can we build big things?
We noted problems in instructional practice in use of
the driving question and anchoring events. Because
teachers are more familiar with stand-alone activities or
lessons, they varied in their use of the driving question
to organize and synthesize instruction. Some attempted
to use student experiences to contextualize concepts but
failed to relate that experience clearly to the idea. In-
stead, to promote participation, they encouraged long
discussions of experiences students shared that often di-
verted from and did little to help students understand
how those experiences related to the point. Moreover,
some teachers had difficulty helping students experi-
ence phenomena because of local circumstances, rules,
or resources. For example, visits to a local river were not
permitted by some principals, and some schools were not
located close to a body of water.
As a result of these experiences, we experimented
with different driving questions, altered contextualiza-
tion activities, created new professional development
material, and revised our curriculum materials. For ex-
ample, we developed driving question boards for the
class to post what they learned after completing each
main investigation, activity, and artifact to indicate how
it contributed to answering the question. We provided
alternatives to experience the phenomena through video
of the teacher visiting a river and through the design of
virtual field trips presented on CD ROMs. The cycles
taught us how to make contextualization more effective,
how to help teachers use contextualization, and how to
provide alternative possibilities to aid teachers in tailor-
ing for their own students and settings (for more detail,
see Krajcik & Blumenfeld, in press).
Our experiences with contextualization are similar
to those of other groups. For instance, the designers of
Jasper needed to tinker with the use of video and stories
to make them meaningful to students and to make the
mathematical problem involved clear, rather than
clouded by too much extraneous detail. Holbrook and
Kolodner (2000) found that although design challenges
in LBD were intended to provide the context for learn-
ing science concepts and practices, teachers would fail
to contextualize instruction. Instead, they often at-
tempted to teach the science first and then introduce
the design challenge. Design activities were often more
like arts-and-crafts activities as students and teachers
focused on constructing working models and neglected
to make links to the underlying science concepts
(Kolodner, Camp, et al., 2003). In the process of re-
designing LBD to work better in middle school science
classrooms, the designers consulted with teachers to de-
velop a 3-week introductory unit called a launcher unit
comprising a series of short design challenges meant to
introduce science, design, and collaboration practices
(Holbrook & Kolodner, 2000). To accomplish this, the
launcher unit emphasizes the norms for doing science
and design independent of the science content. Rather
than introduce science and design processes at the same
time students learn science content, the principle is to
establish a classroom culture first, to better prepare
students for learning science from design activities dur-
ing regular LBD units. Launcher units also reduce the
complexity of instruction for teachers so that they can
transition more easily into new teaching practices re-
quired when using design to contextualize learning
(Kolodner, Camp, et al., 2003).
Technology
Many recently designed learning environments rely on
technology; in fact, the use of technology tools that
scaffold learning constitutes one of their hallmarks.
Designers usually find that creating software that is us-
able in classroom situations requires multiple research
cycles. For instance, during early implementation ef-
Design and Implementation of Learning Environments: Interplay of Theory and Practice 321
forts, Cognitive Tutors designers found that the soft-
ware required computers with greater computational
power than was typically found in schools. They also
found that the computer interface was confusing to stu-
dents, and sometimes the tutors gave inappropriate
feedback about student problem-solving attempts (An-
derson, Boyle, Corbett, & Lewis, 1990). Continuous re-
finement via cycles of implementation and evaluation
allowed designers to respond to challenges. Developers
closed the gap between school computers and tutor soft-
ware, improved the interface and the tutors cognitive
model, and transformed Cognitive Tutors into a com-
plete mathematics curriculum (Corbett et al., 2001;
Koedinger & Anderson, 1998).
A related challenge for design is how to make the
technology user-friendly. The cost of learning new soft-
ware and new uses of technology is often high for stu-
dents and teachers. First-time use of new technology
with students can preoccupy teachers with managing the
technology and keep teachers from effectively interact-
ing with students to support learning during technology
use. To address this problem, WISE designers developed
a mentorship model of professional development (Slotta,
2004). Experienced WISE teachers work with novice
teachers in workshops in which videos of WISE master
teachers are discussed and social supports such as peer
networks and close mentor relationships are provided.
Also, because many software applications are tailored
for a particular learning environment approach, all the
features and affordances contained in any one piece of
software may not be used easily across programs.
Another challenge is to create programs that are
learner-centered so that the degree of scaffolding can be
tailored to students level of expertise (Quintana et al.,
2004; Soloway, Guzdial, & Hay, 1994). In addition, de-
signers need to determine what constitutes effective
scaffolding to promote student thoughtfulness. For the
most part, each learning environment uses software
of specially designed scaffolds to support the learning of
novices. Customized scaffolding is provided at the
macro level in terms of organization and functionality
(notebooks, drawing boards) and at the micro level
through prompts. Some learning tools promote inquiry,
such as those that ask students to make predictions or
provide databases and ways to keep track of information
gathered; others aid collaboration via mutual visualiza-
tion, common notebooks, or group databases; some help
with interpretation and modeling. How scaffolds are de-
signed tends to be unique to each program, which means
students must learn to respond to different sources of
support each time they encounter new software. Greater
attention is being paid to the variations in how scaffold-
ing is designed, and there is interest in identifying more
common design features to aid students (Puntambekar
& Hubscher, 2005; Quintana et al., 2004).
Project Based Science makes use of several software
tools. Students use Model-It to easily build, test, and
evaluate qualitative, dynamic models. Students can im-
port the functional relationships they developed into
DataViz. Students plan their models by recording ideas
and creating objects and factors. Next, they build rela-
tionship links between the factors using qualitative and
quantitative representations. A graphical view of each
relationship is also provided. For data visualization,
Model-It provides meters and graphs to view factor val-
ues. As students test their models they can change the
values of factors and immediately see the effects.
The incorporation of learning supports or scaffold-
ing that addresses the differences between learners and
professionals is central to learner-centered design. By
guiding the selection of goals and processes, scaffold-
ing enables the learner to achieve goals or accomplish
processes that would otherwise be too difficult. Reduc-
ing complexity is a common design principle for
scaffolding. The software incorporates three types of
scaffolding (Jackson et al., 2000). Supportive scaffold-
ing guides learners through steps within phases of
inquiry; for example, when constructing a model, stu-
dents are reminded to make a plan of variables to in-
clude before building and testing. Reflective scaffolds
support learners metacognitive activities. For instance,
they are prompted to test individual relationships or
a sequence of relationships before evaluating the entire
model. Functionality in the software supports testing
and debugging, allowing students to determine which
relationships work and which may need revision. Intrin-
sic scaffolding supports different levels of user ex-
pertise; it makes the simplest level of functionality
available to the novice learner, but allows learners to ac-
cess advanced features as their capability grows.
Wallace and colleagues (Wallace, Kupperman, Kraj-
cik, & Soloway, 2000) used observations of how stu-
dents search for and make use of information on the
Internet to learn how to support students in using online
resources. They found that many students do not behave
as intentional learners who aim to increase or build
knowledge as they search. Instead, students interpret the
task of seeking information as one of getting a single
322 Learning Environments
right answer or numerous good hits. Moreover, students
background knowledge about their question often is lim-
ited; as a result, they have trouble generating any key-
words other than those used in their questions. Failure
to create synonyms may also be due to limited apprecia-
tion for the significance of keywords or a lack of under-
standing about how the technology works.
In addition, Wallace et al. (2000) report that students
do not have efficient ways to monitor what they have ac-
complished; they lose their place if the search continues
over a period of time, often repeating what they have
done before or not making use of the information they
have already gathered. Moreover, they have few strate-
gies for reading or evaluating a considerable amount of
material online. Perhaps it is because students are used
to looking up brief answers in textbooks or other refer-
ence sources such as encyclopedias and dictionaries that
they may have neither skills nor inclination to critique
what they find.
These findings point to some of the areas in which
students need support if they are to conduct effective
searches, and suggest that a major challenge to using dig-
ital information resources is to provide tools that allow
students to embed information seeking in a sustained
process. Such tools must support both searching for sim-
ple answers where students are looking for factual infor-
mation, and also complex exploration of information
when learners are trying to understand a multifaceted
problem.
Based on classroom observations of students,
Artemis was created to support students as they access
and use digital information over the Internet (Wallace
et al., 1998). Artemis allows students to accomplish
multiple tasks within a single computer environment.
This keeps work from becoming fragmented and allows
students to return to where they left off in prior ses-
sions. The workspace allows for recording of searches
and includes links to actual documents, helping stu-
dents sustain the information-seeking process over
time. One feature, the question folders, supports stu-
dents in thinking about and organizing the information
they find in terms of their query. They also help stu-
dents to note what other questions or information they
might usefully pursue. Students can store links to
items they find interesting in question folders and can
create multiple folders that reflect different areas of
the search or the refinements of an initial question. The
folders allow flexibility in storing links and are avail-
able across multiple work sessions so that students can
draw on what they have done before. Students can add
or delete items or evaluate what they have found to
date. Also, past results windows keep a live list of
student searches so that they can see how they searched
previously and what they have found. This feature
is helpful, as observations indicate that students
forget which queries they have submitted and conse-
quently repeat the same questions. It also allows stu-
dents to index what they found and to review their
process over time.
There is a broad topics feature that includes a list of
topics organized by domain. The topics present a hierar-
chy of terms that can be browsed or searched as the first
step in creating a query. It is intended to help students
generate keywords and draw on prior knowledge as well
as giving them a view of the structure of the content area
they are exploring and providing them with alternative
and productive ways to search.
Artemis is connected to the University of Michigan
Digital Library, which contains a collection of relevant
sites for middle school students (see http://umdl.soe
.umich.edu). The objective is to alleviate the frustrat-
ing problem students often have of getting numerous
irrelevant hits when performing an Internet search.
Teachers and students also have the ability to critique,
comment on, and recommend sites. Reading others
recommendations and their accompanying rationales
and contributing their own critiques can help students
learn to evaluate information and sites and also in-
crease motivation.
Design changes similar to those made to the software
programs described above can be adapted by other de-
velopers as they seek to create learning tools that are
theoretically based and that work in classrooms.
Teachers and Students
Most developers of learning environments find that their
innovations pose predictable enactment challenges for
teachers and students. As some of the examples about
contextualization and technology illustrate, quite often,
the intended program envisioned by designers differs
dramatically from what actually unfolds in classrooms.
This is almost always the case in early implementations.
A significant challenge, then, for those designing
learning environments is to anticipate difficulties and
create innovations that will support teachers and stu-
dents in engaging in new modes of teaching and learn-
ing. Designers need to think through how a learning
environment can be enacted and sustained in real-world
Design and Implementation of Learning Environments: Interplay of Theory and Practice 323
instructional settings. This process entails making mod-
ifications to accommodate to a range of classroom is-
sues. In early implementations of PBS, we found that as
teachers tried unfamiliar instructional strategies or new
arrangements, the results were often less than ideal;
teachers ran out of time and did not relate back to the
driving question during lessons, artifacts were left
unfinished, and discussions did not facilitate the con-
struction of key ideas (Marx, Blumenfeld, Krajcik, &
Soloway, 1997; Singer, Marx, Krajcik, & Chambers,
2000). Time, we learned, is a precious commodity in
classrooms; teachers struggle to cover curriculum, ad-
dress mandated requirements such as testing and test
preparation, and incorporate new requirements such as
programs on drug awareness or character education. Be-
cause time is at a premium, teachers often dropped ac-
tivities that enabled discussion, reflection, and revision,
all of which are essential for knowledge construction.
Some teachers proceduralized and simplified artifact
development to save time rather than help students to de-
velop, share, and revise their work. Others failed to de-
vote class time for students to compare findings from
investigations and consider what varied results meant,
an essential component of the inquiry process.
Another difficulty for teachers is the management of
groups working on different questions or activities.
This challenge is increased when students have diffi-
culty self-regulating and staying on task. The problem is
magnified when technology is involved and computer
access is limited, so that work time must be organized
and coordinated.
Building a community of learners is also problematic.
To foster collaboration and create appropriate norms,
teachers must help students learn to work together pro-
ductively, to respect, share, discuss, and critique each
others ideas. This interaction pattern takes time to
develop and to carry out. Also, it may not result in cor-
rect answers, which is troubling to many teachers.
When facing challenges of managing complex collabora-
tions, teachers often cut these interactions short and
give children the answers.
Teachers also have difficulty scaffolding experiences
so that students can take responsibility for learning.
They often give students too much independence with-
out adequately modeling thinking processes, structuring
the situation, or providing feedback. When students are
unsure about what questions to pursue or how to design
an investigation to answer questions, teachers simply
give students a question and an experiment rather than
let them develop and critique their own design as a route
to learning about scientific processes. Mergendoller and
colleagues (Mergendoller, Markham, Ravitz, & Larmer,
in press) discuss in detail what types of scaffolding are
necessary across time as problem-based learning curric-
ula unfold. They stress that scaffolding is the key to
management and also to student learning.
These problems led our PBS group to change our
initial designs so that our materials provided greater
support for teachers and students and could be used ef-
fectively across different classroom settings. For exam-
ple, we shortened projects and focused on essential
content, simplified artifacts, and provided alternatives
to accomplish tasks when small-group work was too de-
manding (Krajcik & Blumenfeld, in press). We also
included educative materials for teachers in the curricu-
lum packages that contained information about manage-
ment, content, and difficulty students might have with
the content. We included ideas for adaptations and the
principles underlying designs, so that teachers might
adapt them in a manner congruent with the basic princi-
ples underlying the goals (Davis & Krajcik, 2005;
Schneider, Krajcik, & Blumenfeld, 2005).
We used what we observed as the basis for discussion
during professional development. During these sessions,
an important part of the process of making revisions was
collaboration among school personnel, teachers, and
university researchers. Often, researchers identified a
problem and teachers would work on strategies or sug-
gest revisions to solve the problem. For example, we
worked on ways to introduce inquiry so that students
early experiences were more highly structured and scaf-
folded and less complex. At other times, teachers com-
plained about activities that did not work or technology
design that was confusing. We worked on ways to intro-
duce modeling technology to separate issues of learning
to manage the software from learning what models are.
We also worked on strategies to help students under-
stand scientific explanations by creating a rubric for
students and teachers and scenarios where students con-
trasted explanations they might make to a parent to ex-
plain the meaning results of an investigation from those
a scientist might make. We highlighted scientific lan-
guage, use of evidence, and ways of interpreting data.
We also tried to link our professional development to
student and teacher learning (Fishman et al., 2003).
Students. Significant design challenges involve
promoting student participation, thoughtfulness, and
324 Learning Environments
motivation. The learning environments described here
represent a considerable departure from the type of
classroom experience with which students are familiar.
These learning environments require greater participa-
tion, more personal responsibility for learning, more
self-direction, and more self-regulation (Blumenfeld
et al., 1991; Blumenfeld, Kempler, & Krajcik, in press).
Constructivist approaches require students to be moti-
vated to ask questions, join in discussion, engage in sus-
tained inquiry, and produce and revise artifacts. Not all
students are willing to participate at this level; Scar-
damalia and Bereiter (1991) report unequal amounts of
participation in their Computer-Supported Intentional
Learning Environments (CSILE). As students built a
class database, less able and less assertive students
seemed to be somewhat sidelined from the action.
Linn (1992) reports that students were often not re-
spectful of each other (e.g., would refuse to share com-
puter keyboards or information), and groups developed
status hierarchies and norms consistent with gender
stereotypes in her Computer as Learning Partner envi-
ronment. She found that quality collaboration was diffi-
cult to achieve; less dominant students tended to agree
with more dominant ones, and students reported a vari-
ety of perspectives rather than try to understand the
merits of different points of view and come to common
understanding. One reason students might not collabo-
rate productively is because they may not know how to
do so. Palincsar, Anderson, and David (1993) addressed
this problem by designing a program to help students
learn scientific argumentation as a way to enhance the
quality of dialogue and improve student learning.
Reports of enactment problems from several of the
programs attest to the challenge of eliciting thoughtful-
ness. Linn (1992) notes that students using the Com-
puter as Learning Partner environment experienced
difficulties generalizing from laboratory experiments
to their everyday experiences and to new material they
had not studied. Students tended to continue to respond
to questions with their intuitive ideas rather than with
the scientific principles integral to the topic under
study. Also, there is evidence that students who collab-
orate via networks need help engaging in substantive
conversations (Linn & Songer, 1988). As described ear-
lier, Wallace et al. (2000) found that although students
were on task while doing Web searches, the search fre-
quently did not reflect engagement with the subject mat-
ter. Scardamalia and Bereiter (1991) also report that
students have trouble generating questions that allow
them to explore a topic in depth. They suggest that stu-
dents approaches to learning can be characterized as a
schoolwork module where, rather than engaging with
the material so as to ask significant questions and en-
hance their knowledge, their aim is to find the right an-
swer and get the work done. As a result, they developed
ways to help students evaluate questions and inserted
prompts into CSILE, a community knowledge-building
software tool, that promoted more thoughtful inter-
action (Scardamalia & Bereiter, 1991).
Descriptions of middle school students first experi-
ences with inquiry in PBS reflect what others report
(Krajcik et al., 1998). Students tended to select questions
for inquiry quickly, without considering their merits.
They did not think through what data would be necessary
to answer these questions and often were not systematic
in data collection. Only when the teacher asked for ratio-
nales for how the questions related to the issues under
study did the students begin active discussions.
Issues of participation and thoughtfulness are closely
linked to motivation. A fundamental goal of new learn-
ing environments is for students to take responsibility
for and ownership of their own learning by inquiring,
discussing, collecting, synthesizing, analyzing, and in-
terpreting information. For these opportunities to be
productive, students must invest considerable mental ef-
fort and persist in the search for answers to questions
and solutions to problems.
However, whether students will be motivated to do so
is not certain. On the one hand, there is reason to assume
that students will respond positively to constructivist-
based learning environments. Instructional factors that
affect motivation include challenging work, opportuni-
ties for active learning, emphasis on topics that are per-
ceived as valuable and that have personal or real-world
relevance, provision of choice and decision making, use
of collaboration, incorporating a variety of instructional
techniques, and use of technology (Fredricks, Blumen-
feld, & Paris, 2004; Guthrie & Wigfield, 2000). Also,
Hickey (1997) argues that practices promoted by
constructivist-based curricula are likely to minimize the
effects of individual differences in motivation, as stu-
dents participate in and become members of communi-
ties of practice. In fact, standards-based programs that
incorporate these features promote positive attitudes
(Hickey, Moore, & Pellegrino, 2001; Kahle, Meece, &
Scantlebury, 2000). Participation in PBS stems the de-
Design and Implementation of Learning Environments: Interplay of Theory and Practice 325
cline in interest in science typically found during the
middle school years (Blumenfeld, Soloway, Krajcik, &
Marx, 2004). Case studies of sixth graders by Mistler-
Jackson and Songer (2000) suggest that their technology-
based inquiry program promoted a high level of
motivation and satisfaction.
However, findings from several studies demonstrate
that student reactions are not uniformly positive. Indi-
vidual differences influence how students approach
tasks in learning environments. Meyer, Turner, and
Spencer (1997) found that fifth- and sixth-grade stu-
dents differed in their motivation, strategy use, and en-
gagement depending on their disposition to seek or to
avoid challenge. They suggest that teachers need to cre-
ate a climate where task focus, not ability focus, is en-
couraged, where mistakes are viewed as opportunities
for learning, where seeking help is seen as adaptive,
and where collaboration to solve problems and use oth-
ers expertise is the norm.
Veermans and Jarvela (2004) showed individual dif-
ferences in fourth graders reactions to the Knowledge
Forum (CSILE) learning environment. They found that
students who reported higher learning goals demon-
strated more self-regulation. These students moved be-
yond thinking about procedures and focused on the key
ideas of the inquiry task. Consequently, the teacher re-
sponded by scaffolding the content rather than proce-
dures of inquiry learning. In contrast, students whose
goals for learning were lower, who wanted to avoid work
or look smart rather than understand the material, faced
more challenge in mastering the content.
Renninger and her colleagues (Hidi, Renninger, &
Krapp, 2004; Renninger & Hidi, 2002) have shown the
importance of interest on individual student motivation.
Students are likely to engage more deeply and benefit
from activities that they perceive to be personally mean-
ingful. They are likely to be more motivated and more
self-regulating when they study content in which they
are interested. Motivated students are more likely to or-
ganize information and relate it to prior knowledge, pro-
moting deeper understanding of content. Krajcik et al.
(1998) and Patrick and Middleton (2002) showed that
students behavior during science projects differed de-
pending on individual interest in the project question
and on whether the inquiry tasks afforded enough situa-
tional interest to sustain engagement. Situational inter-
est can catch students. Opportunities for making
choices, working with others, and using technology can
trigger a short-term response that may not hold over
time. Situational interest may eventually lead to more
intrinsic interest in the material being explored. How-
ever, if investment in understanding does not occur, then
ways to hold situational interest need to be incorporated
into learning environments so that students will be more
likely to engage with the ideas (Renninger, 2000).
Revisions in features of LBD illustrate responses to
problems of teachers and students. Kolodner, Camp,
et al. (2003) initially found that their instructional pro-
gram was not specific enough to work in middle school
science classrooms. So LBD designers made a number
of changes to support teachers and students. They re-
vised the initial focus on design to a redesign approach
that emphasizes the role of iteration in refining and de-
veloping understanding (Kolodner, Camp, et al., 2003).
They accomplished this by sequencing activities to en-
sure that students were guided through multiple trials of
testing and building. Designers also added core activi-
ties, called rituals, in which students and teachers re-
peatedly engage as they progress through LBD cycles
(Kolodner, Gray, et al., 2003). The repetition of core ac-
tivities is meant to help students become familiar with
scientific and design practices. Additional changes by
designers included adding a student text, providing op-
tional software to support student design activities, and
integrating design worksheets, called diary pages, into
the design cycle (Kolodner, Camp, et al., 2003; Putam-
bekar & Kolodner, 2005).
As they went through the iterative design and re-
search process, LBD designers drew from other ap-
proaches, such as Fostering Communities of Learners
(A. L. Brown & Campione, 1994), to better support col-
laboration (Kolodner, Camp, et al., 2003). By drawing
from design principles of other programs, they were
able to make their own approach more complete. Simi-
lar problems and alternative solutions have been re-
ported by the Cognition and Technology Group at
Vanderbilt (Barron et al., 1998).
Merits of Design Research
Research on learning environments incorporates
methodological traditions from several related fields.
The work is highly interdisciplinary, with research
teams drawn from psychology, computer science,
education, and cognitive sciences; often, the teams in-
clude disciplinary specialists from mathematics, the
326 Learning Environments
sciences, or the social sciences. Over the past decade or
two, the new, hybrid field of learning sciences has
emerged with which many of the designers and re-
searchers discussed here affiliate. A new journal,
the Journal of the Learning Sciences, has appeared, and
the International Society of the Learning Sciences
(www.isls.org) has been organized. Moreover, educa-
tional journals (in particular, Educational Researcher)
have published a lively and spirited debate about the
epistemological strengths and weaknesses of research
associated with learning environments. This debate has
influenced discussions about the broader field of edu-
cational research and even the structure and role of col-
leges of education (Burkhardt & Schoenfeld, 2003).
The NRC has published a book presenting the findings
of a committee it constituted to contribute to this
debate (Shavelson & Towne, 2002). And the newly
formed Institute for Educational Sciences in the U.S.
Department of Education has contributed through its
research standards for funding (www.ed.gov/about
/offices/ list /ies/index.html) and through the What
Works Clearinghouse, a Web-based service (www.
whatworks.ed.gov) that evaluates and reports on educa-
tional research in support of reform.
The main points of contention in this debate concern
a number of fundamental issues. Articles about research
on design, which includes learning environments, point
to differences with more traditional variable-centered
research (see, e.g., the theme issue of Educational Re-
searcher, vol. 32, no. 1, 2003, on the role of design in ed-
ucational research and the special issue of the Journal
of the Learning Sciences, vol. 13, no. 1, 2004, on design-
based research). One point of debate concerns the
integrated nature of learning environments. Some (Blu-
menfeld, Fishman, Krajcik, Marx, & Soloway, 2000)
argue that all features (see Table 8.2) are presumed to
work together; therefore, when doing research on a
learning environment, it may not be possible to unpack
contributions of various features. This is a common
problem when learning environments are key elements
in systemic reform programs (Fishman et al., 2003). By
disaggregating the elements, for example, in a factorial
experimental design, the value of some variables may be
diminished. It might be possible to design large enough
experiments for learning environments that have several
factors, but the size of such an experiment is likely to be
unmanageable.
The problem of losing the essential qualities of learn-
ing environments when disaggregating for experimental
studies has contributed, along with other issues, to the
concept of design experiments (A. L. Brown, 1992;
Collins, 1992) and, more recently, design research
(Kelly, 2003). Design research is more akin to engineer-
ing, or maybe architecture, than it is to natural science.
Simon (1996) distinguishes between natural sciences
and sciences of the artificial, or design sciences. The lat-
ter include, for example, engineering, computer science,
and medicine. When applied to the study of learning, as
in research associated with learning environments, de-
sign research addresses four challenges (Collins et al.,
2004): creating theory that addresses learning in con-
text; studying learning phenomena in real settings rather
than in rarified laboratory settings; employing a broader
range of learning measures; and linking research find-
ings to formative evaluation. In addressing these issues,
Collins et al. point out that design research also has its
own challenges: addressing the complexity of real set-
tings and the difficulty of control in such contexts; vol-
umes of data associated with mixed qualitative and
quantitative research methods; and comparing findings
that emerge from different types of designs.
One of the premises of design experiments is that the
intervention is integrated: It works as a whole. The ele-
ments are not orthogonal, and changing one element of
the system affects all elements. Thus, one cannot de-
compose the program as if each element were an inde-
pendent variable in a more conventional experimental
design. As a result, usually there is no attempt to sepa-
rate variables to test their independent and interactive
contributions to the instructional program as the basis
for making recommendations for practice. In addition,
comparison among features across programs is not
likely to be attempted because they emphasize different
aspects of the theory and are designed for somewhat
different purposes. Instead, the research strategy is to
modify individual programs based on evaluations and
to track whether changes in features affect student
learning. The idea is to obtain outcomes that are reli-
able and replicable for the entire program so that even-
tually it can be disseminated with minimal support.
Therefore, it is unlikely that enough information about
the effect of each programs features will be available
so that a mix-and-match strategy of selecting and com-
bining effective parts of each based on empirical find-
ings can be used. Also, standardization of features is
not likely to occur, because constructivist theory is for-
mulated in a way that does not lead to explicit prescrip-
tions for action. Rather, it encourages adaptation and
Scaling Learning Environments 327
modification of program features based on design prin-
ciples as a way to enact the principles derived from the-
ory. It is interesting to note, however, that recently an
attempt has been made to integrate various aspects of
these efforts in a learning environment called Schools
for Thought (Lamon et al., 1996).
Well-done design research can provide findings that
are more contextualized, have more detailed descrip-
tions of learning in real settings, and present nuanced
and complex examples of the range of outcomes when
students engage in learning environments. But there has
been considerable criticism of the failure to compare
results of learning environments with results of other
educational approaches or to use control groups. More
recently there have been reviews of effects across
problem-based learning environments (e.g., Gjibels,
Dochy, Bossche, & Segers, 2005; Hmelo-Silver, 2004).
Among others, Cook and Payne (2002) have called
for more use of experimental methods, including ran-
domization of subjects to conditions, for policy-relevant
research in education. The recent NRC book edited by
Shavelson and Towne (2002) on scientific research in
education raises similar points. One of the crucial points
of argument concerns the validity of inferences drawn
from design research studies. Without randomization
and the use of control groups to which learning environ-
ments can be compared, there are many threats to inter-
nal validity of the research, thereby weakening the
power of causal inferences.
Depending on the unit of analysis and length of time
that an intervention might take, it is possible to conduct
randomized experiments in real settings (see an early
example by Clark et al., 1979). But substantial barriers
exist. For example, in our work we engage teachers in
long-term professional development in order for them to
learn how to do inquiry in urban middle school class-
rooms. For some teachers, it takes a number of years to
gain proficiency in the complexities of the curriculum
and the instructional model (Geier, 2005). A number of
researchers (e.g., Hawley & Valli, 1999) have argued that
teacher support systems ought to be used to help teachers
master complex instruction. Based on these arguments,
we have collaborated with teachers with whom we
have worked in Detroit in the creation of such a teacher
support system. As a consequence, teachers act like pro-
fessionals: They talk to each other, share ideas and chal-
lenges, and support each other through difficulties.
Moreover, they work in the context of a districtwide sys-
temic reform program, so their collaboration is strongly
supported by district officials who encourage teachers to
share their practices with each other. Because it takes
about 3 years for some teachers to master the instruction
and even longer to gain expertise, it would be impossible
and, in the eyes of district officials, counterproductive to
isolate teachers from each other. As a consequence, an
experiment in this context would most assuredly result in
the blending of practices across treatment groups as
teachers share their practices, thus confounding treat-
ments and weakening causal inferences.
Problems also are apparent in the definition and en-
actment of control groups. For example, if designers are
serious about integrating technology and capitalizing on
the affordances that new technologies provide, then
comparing an instructional unit with the technology to
one without it would be tantamount to comparing quite
different instructional units. Moreover, there may be no
way to create truly comparable control groups that do
not have technology if, in fact, the technology provides
unique affordances. For example, there may be no way to
enable students to conduct simulations of complex sys-
tems without using the processing power of computers.
There have also been calls for more mixed-method re-
search designs (Johnson & Onwuegbuzie, 2004) to be em-
ployed in evaluating outcomes of educational and social
innovations that could be applied to research on learning
environments. Indeed, Collins and colleagues (2004) ap-
proach to design research employs a range of methods,
from ethnography to quantitative assessments of learning.
The advantages of mixed-methods studies include the
broader range of data that can be used to understand the
learning environment as it is actually enacted, the impact
the learning environment has on students, and the oppor-
tunity to use the strengths of one method to balance the
weaknesses of another. The weaknesses include greater
cost in time and dollars and the need for a broader range
of expertise, thus almost necessitating a team of re-
searchers rather than one. Methodological purists might
also object to mixing epistemological systems.
SCALING LEARNING ENVIRONMENTS
Once learning environments have been tested in a small
number of settings, the challenge is to test their usabil-
ity in a wide variety of circumstances. Designs for
learning environments stem from research on learning,
development, and motivation. Initial implementation
combines insights from this work with best practices. As
328 Learning Environments
we discussed earlier, initial implementation results in
new information about theoretical warrants for design
and about teacher practices that make the designs work.
Usually in initial development, proof of concept is
salient; scaling is not a critical issue.
Scaling of learning environments involves another
level of effort and draws on findings from organiza-
tional and policy research. This work provides insights
into how contexts into which learning environments are
scaled impact enactment and success. Thus, designs that
work initially may need to be modified to deal with new
sites. As a result, design principles for scaling need to be
developed as a new round of implementation that in-
cludes more sites occurs.
To discuss context issues in scaling, we present ideas
about usability reform, problems of scaling of learning
environments that use technologies, and research on the
role of leadership in scaling. Many of these problems are
not unique to scaling of learning environments. Because
learning environments include multiple features, they
pose special complications; features work together, and
change in one feature to accommodate circumstances in
different sites may necessitate change in others.
Types of Scaling
One type of scaling involves an increase in the number
of users across settings. Work on diffusion of innova-
tions is pertinent here. There are two primary points of
view about diffusion. Rogers (2003) and his group view
diffusion from the point of view of fixed innovations,
examining how organizations take up and use the inno-
vation. Van de Ven and colleagues (Van de Ven, Polley,
Garud & Venkataraman, 1999) examine how innova-
tions are modified as they become part of an organiza-
tions approach to its work. In this view, innovations that
are not sufficiently malleable to be made part of local
organizational culture will not succeed. Of course, this
raises the problem of how changeable an innovation can
be before it ceases to be an innovation. A. L. Brown and
Campione (1996) refer to this issue as the problem of
lethal mutations.
Scaling involves further tests of theory and practice;
as the innovation meets a variety of different circum-
stances, adaptation is necessary. Warranted adaptations
can teach us more about instantiations of features and
also about practices that make them work. Features of
the learning environments will need to be adapted to
deal with the setting and resources of the schools, varia-
tions in the capability of teachers, and the background
of the students. A standard rule of scale is this: For an
innovation to have staying power, enactors must make it
their own.
Generally, as programs go to scale they are first taken
up by early adopters. These teachers are risk takers
who are enthusiastic about trying new things and about
what the new program can offer. In the second phase of
scaling, more adaptation likely will be required, and
more of the adaptations will be of the lethal type. That
is, one can expect teachers to change the innovation to
match what they are used to or what their circumstances
allow. This change is most likely when the learning envi-
ronment differs from the grammar of schooling (Tyack
& Cuban, 1995). The grammar of schooling reflects the
day-to-day life of classroom instruction, including the
formal curriculum and instructional activities, but also
the rhythm and flow of interactions within the classroom
and across the school. It also encompasses the unac-
knowledged but highly practiced assumptions and norms
that guide roles and routines in school. Innovations such
as learning environments that require considerable
knowledge and skill and substantial changes in the
teacher role are likely to challenge the grammar of
schooling and therefore be subject to more pressure to
conform. The problem of lethal mutations resulting from
adaptation may be lessened when the learning environ-
ment is more self-contained, with teachers as managers
rather than key figures in implementation.
A second type of scaling involves increasing numbers
of users within a system. When scaling within a system,
problems of adding numbers remain the same, but addi-
tional issues emerge. One big difference between the
two types is that in the former, solutions to problems
posed by context can be idiosyncratic. Solutions to prob-
lems in systemic scaling involve dealing with district
and state policy and management. As numbers of users
within the system grows, unique solutions become more
difficult to create, and more systemwide solutions are
needed. For example, when one teacher needs more
computers, the principal might buy a few new ones or
might borrow some from another department or the tech-
nology laboratory. When many teachers in the school or
the system have the same problem, such borrowing or
moving of resources will not work. Similarly, when one
or two teachers need extended class time for students to
conduct an investigation, they might trade periods with
Scaling Learning Environments 329
a colleague. When many teachers need extra time, sys-
temic scaling may require new or flexible scheduling.
The success of systemic scaling will be influenced by
the gaps between the demands of the innovation and
school culture, capability, and policies. If considerable
change in practice is required by a learning environment,
teacher study groups can provide opportunities for in-
formation exchange about strategies and support for ex-
perimentation. However, if the culture does not support
risk taking, or policy makes study group meetings and
common planning times hard to arrange, then such
change is less likely. Similarly, if content emphasized on
district and state tests differs significantly from the
content and learning goals of the learning environment,
administrators and teachers are not likely to support the
innovation or work for its success. Gomez and col-
leagues (Gomez, Fishman, & Pea, 1998) suggest test
bed research as a way to see if a setting has enough of
the requisites to take on the innovation. Research on so-
cial welfare and community-based programs suggests
that interventions work only when there are enough re-
sources (personal, monetary, social) for participants to
take up the innovation. For instance, resource issues
come into play with afterschool programs such as Fifth
Dimension because each site often has its own funding
structure and responsibility for budget and space. Some-
times even a successful program will be short-lived due
to resource issues.
Adaptation
In addition to knowledge of how environments influence
the success of innovations, adaptations necessitated by
scaling to new circumstances also provide valuable infor-
mation about design, theory, and practice of specific fea-
tures of learning environments. The need for adaptation
or tailoring raises questions of malleability and theoreti-
cal warrants. That is, in what ways can critical features of
a learning environment be enacted differently, yet still
remain true to their theoretical foundation?
Culture and Adaptation. The degree of explicit-
ness in instruction is one example of the tension be-
tween adaptability and warrants. Among others, Lee
(2002), Moje and colleagues (2001), and Ladson-
Billings (1995) discuss the need to be explicit when
teaching science to children from different cultures.
Explicitness involves making very clear how one com-
municates, thinks, and proceeds in scientific endeavors
while at the same time addressing the students cultural
ways of explaining phenomena or using evidence. Ex-
ploring approaches to explicit instruction that honor
childrens cultural backgrounds and scaffolds learning
that conforms with premises of constructivist learning
environments can help to identify when adaptations are
lethal and contradict warrants.
Adapting learning environments to make them ex-
plicit can mean making thought processes very trans-
parent, such as contrasting how scientists talk with how
students talk with friends, or contrasting what counts as
evidence in science with what counts as evidence in
conversations with your mother (Moje et al., 2004).
Adaptation may result in more direct instruction. In a
learning environment that assumes children should en-
gage in inquiry to learn content, making the scientific
processes explicit might short-circuit childrens explo-
ration of what are good questions or what are reason-
able and feasible designs, as teachers tell students
questions to ask or procedures to follow. Teachers are
likely to be very explicit in response to their concerns
that students will generate wrong answers or miscon-
ceptions as they explore phenomena or solve problems.
However, helping students construct understanding
from their inquiry might require explicit instruction, es-
pecially when students are inexperienced or not skilled
in keeping track of results, interpreting findings, or
drawing conclusions. The defining problem is to strike a
balance between adaptations that create more explicit
instruction in support of thinking and adaptations that
convert inquiry to direct instruction with little opportu-
nity for deep thinking. The former can preserve the in-
tent of learning environments to achieve national
science education standards; the latter capitulates to the
grammar of schooling.
Social organizational features also will need to be
adapted to student cultural backgrounds. Learning envi-
ronments that entail building discourse communities, in
which students debate ideas, critique each others work,
or explore alternative answers to problems, will need to
adapt to students whose backgrounds limit questioning
of adults, limit argumentation, or foster an orientation
to one right answer. Participation structures that vary
from those used in the home also will pose problems, es-
pecially for younger students (Phillips, 1972). In addi-
tion, adaptation will be necessary when the learning
environment depends on small-group work and is scaled
to places where students come from backgrounds that
330 Learning Environments
differ in status. A variety of instantiations of group
work have been developed to deal with problems of
dominance in groups by nonminority or wealthy students
(E. G. Cohen, Lotan, Scarloss, & Arellano, 1999).
Cultural background of students and school setting
also affects whether the driving question and anchors
make sense and are appealing. Solving this problem
stretches our understanding of theory and practice. Are
there some contextualizations that work across popula-
tions? Are there others that do not? What characterizes
them? Moreover, whereas a premise of inquiry is for
students to explore questions of interest, once the learn-
ing environment is scaled and needs to be developed to
suit many different settings and to address specific
learning standards, there are constraints on the varia-
tion of questions that can be used.
The pressure to create highly developed but adaptable
materials illustrates a major tension in scaling. Teachers
may not be prepared to change topics in different classes
or each year in response to student interest. Teachers
and administrators also will be hesitant to consider driv-
ing questions that students initiate that do not lend
themselves to content that meets national, state, or dis-
trict standards. Receptivity to student interests is more
feasible when projects are supplementary to the curricu-
lum than when they are the main route to convey
material mandated by state and local curriculum frame-
works. Moreover, even if teachers are motivated and
knowledgeable enough to do so, constant changes limit
the learning benefits that accrue to teachers from engag-
ing in multiple enactments of the same curriculum mate-
rial (Geier et al., 2004). One solution we and others have
found is to have students raise questions of interest in
the context of a driving question around which the unit
is developed. Curriculum materials offer advice on
types of questions students are likely to raise and how
teachers might proceed. This solution keeps key ideas
consistent but gives students input.
Technology and Adaptation. Learning environ-
ments that use technology also will face tensions of
adaptability as they scale. One problem involves inter-
faces. Learning environments may spread to sites where
other technology is in use. If the interfaces differ dra-
matically from those already in use, teachers and stu-
dents will have the extra burden of learning something
new and possibly a way of operating that differs dramat-
ically from what they know. Utilization of many differ-
ent applications in the same or different innovations
creates difficulty and sometimes resistance to use that
requires redesign of the technology in a way that still
supports learning as envisioned in the original design.
Another problem with technology is accessibility. If
the learning environment requires frequent use of tech-
nology for individual or small-group use, accessibility
and number of machines becomes important. Adaptation
will be necessary in situations where technology is lim-
ited or where access is restricted. The result may be that
alternative forms of learning support will be needed or
that different ways of getting the benefits of the technol-
ogy will have to be found. For example, handheld com-
puters are much less expensive than desktop machines,
but they lack some of the power and affordances of desk-
tops. In some cases, access might be improved through a
handheld program at the expense of power. The designer
of a learning environment then has to choose whether
the cost of power is worth the benefits of access. For
some activities, such as word processing or collecting
scientific data in the field, the cost is worth the benefit.
For some, such as modeling complex systems, the affor-
dance of the technology might be lost when less power-
ful devices are used (Fishman, Marx, Blumenfeld,
Krajcik, & Soloway, 2004).
Research on Scaling of Learning Environments
One type of research on scaling of learning environ-
ments involves examination of how the innovation is
adapted, whether these adaptations are warranted, and
how well they work. Here researchers examine enact-
ment and student outcomes to compare different instan-
tiations by teachers. Data include observations, student
tests, and interviews. As with design work during devel-
opment phases, the role of iterative cycles of revision
based on student outcomes and field-based data collec-
tion are discussed.
Another type of research examines how innovations
are adapted to make them usable in systems with vary-
ing policies, resources, populations, and capabilities
(e.g., Lee & Luykx, 2005). Here the focus is on gaps be-
tween existing conditions and the requirements of the
innovation. This research shows that when the gaps are
large, the innovation is extensive, and considerable
change is needed for it to work (e.g., altering a substan-
tial part of a curriculum). Researchers examine how
policies are adapted and how the system develops capac-
ity to deal with the demands of the innovation (Fishman
et al., 2004; McLaughlin, 1990).
Scaling Learning Environments 331
A third type of research involves comparison of out-
comes of learning environments with other innovations
or with control groups, either in fully randomized trials
or in quasi-experimental studies. Arguments for such ap-
proaches are based on the need to know the added value
of new programs and to draw causal inferences. As we
discuss in the section on research, there is considerable
debate about how experimental designs might or might
not work in the context of schools and school districts.
For example, there is the problem of selecting and con-
trolling appropriate comparison groups so that they re-
ally do control for the full range of parameters that
might affect outcomes.
When used in the real world of schools, innovations
are not static. Teachers in control groups hear about in-
teresting innovations and often introduce elements into
their own classrooms; the result is that their classes are
no longer controls. For example, we were interested in
how we might help urban students become more success-
ful at making scientific explanations as they learn in
PBS curricula that we designed collaboratively with
teachers in Detroit Public Schools through the Center for
Learning Technologies in Urban Schools (LeTUS;
Marx et al., 2004). We designed a three-group, quasi-
experimental study to test our instructional approach.
The study was designed to contrast non-LeTUS class-
rooms with LeTUS classrooms using the explanation
instruction and LeTUS classrooms not using the explana-
tion instruction. In the larger LeTUS reform effort, some
of the teachers who were enacting the explanation in-
struction also happened to be peer leaders in the profes-
sional development program for other LeTUS teachers.
Unknown to us, they incorporated the explanation in-
struction into their professional development activities,
thereby changing the nature of one of the comparison
groups. The other LeTUS teachers who were not sup-
posed to be enacting the explanation strategies had been
exposed to them during professional development. In ef-
fect, the teachers were acting professionally; they had
reason to think that what they were doing in their class-
rooms would be useful in other district classrooms, so
they made it available to their colleagues.
Critics of randomized experiments also argue that
the numerous innovations that exist in most schools
also make it impossible to do clean comparisons. For
example, outcomes from innovations in the area of sci-
ence might be influenced by new literacy or math pro-
grams that improve student skills and abilities to
benefit from the science learning environments. In the
high-stakes environment of American public education
we are currently experiencing, no school principal who
wants to keep his or her job would be willing to leave
known achievement problems unaddressed because one
of the departments, say, the science department, is en-
gaged in an experiment studying a learning environ-
ment. If the principal knows that there is a literacy
problem in the school, he or she is going to bring re-
sources to bear on that problem. If the principal is suc-
cessful and the literacy problem begins to be solved, it
is likely that it will affect the students who are in the
science departments learning environment study. Most
likely, the researchers conducting the learning environ-
ment study will not even know about the changes in the
schools literacy program. They will proceed with in-
ferences about the value of their program without
knowing the threats to validity that the other activities
in the school pose.
Professional Development
Scaling also requires professional development to
help teachers enact the innovation in a warranted man-
ner and realize the intended goals of learning environ-
ments. A significant problem for designers as they
scale is the amount of time it takes teachers to become
proficient in implementing learning environments.
In our experience, initial attempts to change from a
didactic model of instruction to a more constructivist
approach rendered teachers novices once more. As
they tried unfamiliar instructional strategies or new
arrangements for which their practical or event knowl-
edge was limited, the results were choppy; teachers ran
out of time, left activities unfinished, and did not re-
spond to or return to student suggestions or questions.
Also, attempts to deal with one feature inevitably en-
tailed problems with other features. That is, teachers
not only had difficulty with individual features of PBS,
they had difficulty orchestrating among them (Marx
et al., 1997).
At the end of the first year of their work in PBS,
each teachers practices represented a profile of enact-
ment, with some features instantiated in a manner
more congruent with the premises underlying the inno-
vation than others. Overall, teacher progress was not
linear; they moved back and forth between new and
old ideas and practices. Generally, as Shulman (1987)
suggests, development was dialectic. Teachers ad-
vanced and retreated as they confronted dilemmas
and attempted to meet challenges posed by the new
332 Learning Environments
approaches to teaching for understanding. In fact, it
took almost 3 years for teachers to grasp the ideas un-
derlying PBS and to become proficient enactors of the
innovation.
Obviously, the process of change to promote student
construction and understanding is difficult. It is essen-
tial that we find ways to assist teachers so that they are
willing to try new approaches and persist in their at-
tempts. Supporting teachers as they collaborate, enact,
and reflect is time-consuming, labor-intensive, and ex-
pensive. Professional development is time-consuming,
labor-intensive, and expensive as well. As typically
practiced, it requires all participants to be in the same
place. Scaling provides challenges in that teachers may
be in many different geographical locations and require
different types of help. Harnessing the potential of the
new technologies is one promising route to make pro-
fessional development more effective and efficient
(Fishman et al., 2004; Hunter, 1992; Lampert & Ball,
1990; Roup, Gal, Drayton, & Pfister, 1992).
Virtual learning environments are now being designed
as a vehicle for professional development for teachers.
Web-based learning environments are one way to develop
communities that help teachers understand premises, de-
velop new knowledge of content and pedagogy, discuss
and solve problems, and view video of teaching strategies
that aid enactment of the innovation. Interactive technolo-
gies make it possible to illustrate new instructional possi-
bilities, to enhance understanding of premises underlying
interventions, to demonstrate challenges of enacting the
new approaches and strategies for meeting them, and to il-
lustrate a range of practices congruent with the innova-
tion. It also can extend the benefits of face-to-face
meetings via telecommunication.
An example of an online community is The Math
Forum, a group of individuals who use computers and
the Internet to interact and build knowledge about
mathematics and mathematics teaching and learning
(Renninger & Shumar, 2002; www.mathforum.org).
The Math Forum supports a network of relationships
around the exchange of resources supporting teachers,
students, researchers, parents, and others who have an
interest in mathematics and mathematics education.
This online community includes Math Forum staff,
whose primary role is to provide interactive services
that foster discussion, support the creating and sharing
of resources, and encourage collaboration on problem
posing and problem solving (Renninger & Shumar,
2002). Services include Web-based discussion areas
and ask-an-expert services for teachers and students,
interactive projects and math challenges for students in
grades 3 through 12, math-related Web resources, an
online mathematics library, and an area for teachers to
exchange math units and lessons for use across all
grade levels, from preschool to college.
The interactive nature of The Math Forum serves as
the basis for community building and sustained com-
munity participation. Participants interact around the
services and resources within an open community
that is designed to promote communication between
Math Forum staff and participants, as well as among
participants. The Math Forum is structured to invite
participation and sustain it by providing opportunities
for participants to pose questions, receive support
tailored to their needs, and contribute to the site. Stu-
dents, for instance, are invited to work online with a
Math Forum mentor who provides individual feed-
back on students problem-solving efforts. Teachers are
invited to participate in online discussions with other
educators, pose questions about mathematics and
mathematics instruction directly to a Math Forum staff
member, and contribute their own ideas to the Forum
community. The Math Forum site does not specify
what teachers should do; rather, the site makes avail-
able services and resources for teachers to explore and
make use of for their own professional needs (Ren-
ninger & Shumar, 2002).
Another example is Knowledge Networks on the Web
(KNOW), developed by Fishman and colleagues (Fish-
man, 2003). In contrast to The Math Forum, this tool is
curriculum-specific; it is designed to support teachers
as they enact PBS. It contains clips of teacher enactment
of lessons, teacher commentary on what they did and
what they might change, and information about content,
management, and student learning. In addition, teachers
can send questions to others who have recently enacted
the same lessons or to senior staff. KNOW is developed
so that it can be used as a platform for other learning en-
vironments to use with teachers as they scale. That is,
developers can customize videotape clips, comments,
and information for their own innovation.
CONCLUSIONS
The information in this chapter has implications for de-
sign, research, and policy. We discuss how the material
reviewed can inform future work in each of these areas.
Conclusions 333
Design
Three critical issues in design need to be addressed in
future work on learning environments. These include the
need to specify more clearly the design of features of
learning environments, the design of environments for
different subject areas and populations, and the creation
of usable designs.
Features
Although effective design for all elements of learning
environments is challenging, three features illustrate
difficulties. First, technology is a central part of many
learning environments, yet teachers are not likely to ef-
fectively help students use technology as learning tools
if the cost of learning how to use the technology is high
in terms of time and effort. The technology needs to
be easy for teachers and students to use or its benefits
will not be realized. In addition, further work is needed
on how to design technology to encourage students
deep cognitive engagement. There are enough technol-
ogy tools in use that it is time to consolidate knowledge
and create design principles. Recent efforts on how to
build common scaffolds are an example of what is neces-
sary. A recently published special issue of the Journal of
the Learning Sciences devoted to scaffolding highlights
our improved understanding of the effects of scaffolding
in complex learning environments (Davis & Miyake,
2004). What we do know is that these principles must
address both teacher and student needs.
Addressing infrastructure issues is critical in design
for technology. Problems of access, maintenance, and
support need to be addressed if technology is to function
as envisioned. When sufficient technology is not avail-
able in the classroom, when teachers do not have neces-
sary software, or when computers are not configured
properly and maintained frequently, instructional time
cannot be effectively used. Relying on teachers to carry
out these tasks as different classes in different subject
areas use computers during the day is not feasible. At-
tention to these issues is even more important as an in-
novation scales.
Another design challenge is how to effectively reach
beyond classrooms to involve communities. Designers
have attempted to create conditions for community in-
volvement, including telecommunications with experts
or with other students, working with community groups,
and drawing on community knowledge. There are prob-
lems to be solved for each of these strategies. We have
not yet found ways to optimize the effect of community
building to enrich students learning experiences.
Assessment for designers, assessments for teacher
use, and assessments for policymakers need further de-
velopment. Assessments used by designers to evaluate
the effectiveness of learning environments vary consid-
erably from scoring artifacts, using posttests or gain
scores, to employing standardized tests that are also of
interest to policymakers. Each of these types of assess-
ments varies in how closely it is aligned to goals of the
learning environment. The tension between assessing
whether learning goals have been met and using policy-
oriented assessments such as state or nationally stan-
dardized tests that are not aligned with program goals
is an old but enduring problem. Moreover, traditional
forms of assessment do not usually address other im-
portant goals of learning environments such as better
understanding of the nature of the disciplines or de-
veloping new dispositions toward learning. To compli-
cate matters, assessments that provide information to
designers or policymakers are not likely to be very use-
ful to teachers who need to judge learning as it unfolds
in the day-to-day enactment of learning environments
in their classrooms. Classroom assessments should in-
clude a range of artifacts: models, reports, presenta-
tions, visual representations, and problem solutions.
Designers need to build these into their programs along
with scoring rubrics for teachers so that each is aligned
tightly with the goals of the learning environment.
Moreover, there are continuing challenges in the design
of authentic assessments for classroom use that are fea-
sible and economical of time and resources.
Subject Areas and Populations
Another set of issues the field must address is to develop
design principles across subject areas and populations of
learners. Robust learning environments exist in all sub-
ject areas, and others are being tested and refined.
There is a continuing need to design new environments
that cover a range of important subject matter content
and skills. Continuing development will allow the field
to address the questions regarding whether design prin-
ciples are general or vary by discipline. One way to an-
swer these questions is to apply design principles used to
create existing environments in one discipline to differ-
ent subject areas.
We also need to create learning environments that
address learners of different ages. A goal should be
to establish design principles that take account of
334 Learning Environments
developmental needs, interests, and capacities. Devel-
opmental literature provides considerable information
for designers to make educated guesses about how to
tailor environments for different ages. This informa-
tion needs to be put in practice and tested empirically
to determine what specific components of designs are
important so that environments work for learners of
different ages.
A related point is the need to address issues of diver-
sity and individual differences. For the most part, de-
signers have not been specific about how different
types of learners respond to and benefit from their pro-
grams and what design principles work. Although there
are some general guidelines about the importance of at-
tending to student culture in instruction and in address-
ing community characteristics, there is little work on
variations in design of learning environments that con-
sider adaptations required to meet the needs of diverse
groups of learners. In light of the growing diversity in
our classrooms, developing and testing design princi-
ples to support students from different backgrounds is
essential. Similarly, we need to examine how learning
environments can be created or adapted for inclusive-
ness of special needs learners. There is evidence that
such environments can help address diversity because
they offer a variety of instructional techniques, activi-
ties, technology tools, and different ways for students
to participate. Some learning environments emphasize
different ways for students to demonstrate knowledge
through creation of artifacts such as models, designs,
visual representations, and oral presentations. This va-
riety allows students to use modalities that draw on
their strengths.
Usability
We need to consider how to design learning environ-
ments for different contexts to determine how design
principles can reflect conditional variation. This varia-
tion might include availability of resources such as tech-
nology and equipment, scheduling, and the nature of
communities that schools serve. Differences might in-
fluence how learning is best contextualized, what com-
munity knowledge can be drawn on, and what sources of
support are available.
There is a need to anticipate predictable challenges
of enactment to make learning environments usable. To
make learning environments work, designers need to
have a deep understanding about the reality of class-
rooms and schools. All learning environments create
common challenges in addition to unique ones associ-
ated with context, yet design principles are not always
clear about how to adapt as these challenges are con-
fronted. The recent trend toward working closely with
groups of teachers during the design and revision
phases is a step in the right direction. Collaborations
allow incorporation of the craft knowledge of teachers
about what skills are necessary for teachers and stu-
dents and help identify potential difficulties in enact-
ment. Such collaborations enrich designs and make
them more feasible for actual classroom use, and they
show the need for careful and long-term collaborations
to create robust learning environments that have the po-
tential to scale up.
Another issue in designing learning environments is
how to build in adaptability. Design groups report that
teachers, pressed for time and worried about content
coverage, do not always make effective modifications
that are warranted. Many teachers are likely to elimi-
nate or truncate opportunities for construction of under-
standing that are the hallmark of learning environments.
Designers might include principles for modification
along with examples of enactments that are faithful to
the intent of the innovation and that are explicit about
why this is the case. Online environments for teachers
are an especially useful way to address this problem. A
significant tension for designers is how to make designs
responsive to the many issues that might arise while at
the same time not straying far from basic principles un-
derlying the design of the learning environment. Essen-
tially, designers face a balancing act or trade-off in
creating models that are fixed or creating models that
are adaptable but specified and developed enough that
they can minimize fatal mutations.
Problems of enactment also call for creating learning
environments for teachers, not just students. Attention to
teacher understanding is critical so that their modifica-
tions are congruent with the basic premises of the learn-
ing environment. Learning environments vary in the
centrality of the teachers role. As teacher centrality in-
creases, the problem of how to design professional de-
velopment to build teacher capability becomes more
critical. Recent efforts point to some promising ap-
proaches, but they have not been compared in terms of
the key features that need to be incorporated, nor is
there a robust empirical literature on the effectiveness
of teacher professional development. As the number of
teachers using a learning environment increases, design-
ers also have to consider how to build system capacity so
Conclusions 335
that growing teacher knowledge and skill can be used to
help inform others.
Research
A critical question for consideration is this: Has the re-
search and development community working on learning
environments matured sufficiently to enable us to make
stronger causal inferences about the efficacy of design-
ing learning environments of the type discussed here?
We argue that there are enough learning environments at
sufficient levels of sophistication and maturity that have
been through cycles of design and proven their efficacy
that we can start doing more causal studies to evaluate
impact as compared with other types of instruction. We
are at a point where more comprehensive and systematic
research is possible and necessary to compare different
designs and to provide evidence allowing the field to
make causal attributions of effectiveness. A step in this
direction may be to draw from the framework for exam-
ining learning environments presented in Table 8.2 as
well as the program comparisons presented in Table 8.3.
For such a program of research to have value for de-
velopers and policymakers, we also need to identify a
range of dependent variables that are consistent with the
intent of the designers and that are calibrated against im-
portant outcomes such as state and national standards.
Some programs stress content knowledge, others skills,
others dispositions toward learning, and others the na-
ture of the discipline. Because programs differ in their
desired outcomes, learning environments are not easily
contrasted, nor are comparison groups easily defined.
Longitudinal research is essential to determine the
enduring benefits of participating in learning environ-
ments. What learning, social, and economic benefits ac-
crue over time? Are students more likely to show higher
achievement, stay in school and earn high school diplo-
mas, and continue selecting courses in subjects where
they have participated in such programs? Do the skills
and dispositions toward learning transfer to other areas
of learning and continue to improve with the degree of
participation in learning environments? Moreover, are
the benefits associated with participating in learning
environments equally distributed across different types
of students, or are there interactions between student
background characteristics and participation?
With respect to teachers, there is ample evidence that
learning environments pose significant instructional
challenges (Windschitl, 2002). Although there are sev-
eral ways professional development is undertaken, there
is general agreement that these efforts should focus on
enacting the learning environment, rather than improv-
ing general teaching skills or attitudes. Teachers need
help with content and with the specifics of the pedagog-
ical features of learning environments, such as managing
multiple activities, building collaborative communities,
using technology as a learning tool, and assessing stu-
dent understanding.
Little is known about how teachers change over time
and the factors that support or inhibit teacher learning
and their growing instructional competence. There is
some evidence that it takes about 3 years for teachers to
learn to use learning environments productively in their
instruction. However, studies have not systematically
determined whether teachers continue to improve,
whether there are individual differences in their learn-
ing trajectories, and whether new approaches and in-
structional skills transfer to teaching for which
theoretically designed and developed learning environ-
ments are not available.
The learning environments research community
needs to create a consensus about the way research on
these environments should proceed. Recently published
special issues of the Journal of the Learning Sciences
(Barab, 2004) and Educational Researcher (Kelly, 2003)
have started to address differences of opinion and build
systematic methodological principles that can create a
more rigorous approach to design and to determining ef-
fectiveness of learning environments.
Finally, most of the research and development we de-
scribe here on learning environments is based on an un-
derlying theory of learning. Designers have learned a
great deal about how to instantiate theory into practice.
They have enriched theory by grounding it conceptually
and contextually. They have demonstrated how models
of learners, goals, settings, and instruction work to-
gether and how each needs to be addressed. It is time
to consider the implications of design for learning the-
ory. Design principles developed from this experience
are what might be called midlevel theory. That is, they
are statements about what needs to be considered in cre-
ating a learning environment. We also need critical
analyses and reviews of how the findings affirm or dis-
confirm underlying learning theories.
These environments provide the context for interdis-
ciplinary research. They combine learning, motivation,
development, subject matter, and culture and discourse.
Combining insights from each field can be used to
336 Learning Environments
improve design principles, because each field has explicit
assumptions about its own topics and implicit assump-
tions about the topics of others. Drawing on the knowl-
edge and strength of each field can help make the design
stronger and more explicit. This diverse expertise can be
used to improve designs. For instance, learning theorists
often assume that creating interest and increasing partic-
ipation in activities will result in greater cognitive
engagement. Motivation researchers find that such situa-
tional interests does not necessarily translate into will-
ingness to invest effort in using the types of strategies
necessary to construct deep level understanding of con-
tent. Similarly, motivation researchers pay less attention
to subject matter instruction. When insights from both
fields are combined, they are likely to result in better un-
derstanding and instantiation of theory into practice.
Policy
Without question, one of the primary goals of designers
of learning environments is to have them used by learn-
ers. There are certainly questions of theory and re-
search, just described, but ultimately, the goal of this
work is to improve learning and other valued educa-
tional goals. Schools and other institutions focused on
children exist in a social and political matrix in which
public and private policies have great impact. To achieve
their goals of widespread use of their intellectual ef-
forts, designers and their colleagues must attend to the
policy environments for success. To influence policy,
designers of learning environments need to attend to is-
sues of scale. They must show that the program can
work in many places and retain effectiveness as num-
bers of participants grow. This requires that adaptabil-
ity, changeability, sustainability, and achievability are
realized in design. These characteristics also require
support from policymakers. They are not ensured by
good design alone. The importance of issues that arise
in scaling will depend on whether the decision maker is
at the building, district, or state level.
For adaptability, designers have to consider local
conditions. The original design might be highly tailored
to circumstances. To scale, designers will need to build
in ways to modify aspects of the design to meet a variety
of circumstances. As we discussed, these circumstances
might differ in the languages and cultures students bring
with them to school, different types of individual needs,
and different ages. They might include diverse commu-
nity values, a range of political expressions, and differ-
ent state, district, or building policies. They might in-
clude variations in curricular objectives or different
high-stakes assessments.
Policymakers can have a huge impact on the quality
of enactment of learning environments through a range
of actions, from recruitment and retention policies for
teachers to resource allocation decisions for infrastruc-
ture and operations and sustained professional develop-
ment that addresses classroom enactment. Policies are
key to support adaptability for programs so they can stay
true to the basic principles underlying their design. Pro-
grams that are based on adaptability to local conditions,
including variable classroom situations within a district
or school, may be challenged to survive in an increas-
ingly standardized climate where the goal of achieving
higher scores on standardized tests dominates. In a very
real sense, the learning environment literature that we
discuss here constitutes a source of innovationnew
ideas in pursuit of values endsthat exists in a fragile
ecosystem of, on the one hand, research and develop-
ment, and on the other, the rough-and-tumble of federal,
state, and local policies.
Innovations are not static. It takes time for an innova-
tion to take hold and mature as it is adapted to new cir-
cumstances. Consequently, using very early summary
evaluations in making decisions to continue the effort
can over- or underestimate the impact. To be effective,
the enactment of learning environments in schools over
time requires a stable staff; recent evidence suggests
that the longer teachers enact a learning environment,
the greater their contribution to student learning. This
kind of stability is very hard to achieve with the enor-
mously high turnover rates in teaching and the loss of a
high percentage of teachers early in their careers as they
leave for different careers, for personal reasons, or be-
cause of inadequate or even hostile working conditions.
For learning environments to be sustainable, design-
ers need to be sure that they align with objectives and
disciplinary frameworks of district, state, and national
standards. Decision makers need to attend to align-
ment of policy with the needs of the learning environ-
ments they adopt. This alignment needs to occur at
multiple levels of administration, from space, time,
and resources at the building level to attention to
teacher professional development, resource allocation,
and objectives at high levels.
The goals of learning environments cannot be
achieved without alignment with learning objectives and
without alignment of policy and practice that support the
References 337
innovation. This alignment is what makes possible at-
taining outcomes such as improved achievement. The
alignment should be focused on building dimensions of
school capacity, such as teacher capability, knowledge at
the building and district level of what is required,
and leadership to meet those requirements. Moreover,
judging if the goals are achieved depends on choosing
assessments that are aligned with curricular goals and
with policy needs. Whether the learning environment is
deemed successful may differ on whether the criteria
used are gain scores on content area tests, raw scores on
standardized tests, or pass rates on high-stakes assess-
ments. But policies regarding alignment need to conform
with and contribute to the policy environment of high
pass rates on high-stakes tests. School leaders working
in an era of adequate yearly progress defined by federal
legislation ignore high-stakes assessments at their peril.
If learning environments that are used in schools do not
contribute a response to the very real imperative of fed-
eral policy, then administrators are not likely to support
their adoption. The ultimate question in schools may be:
Does the learning environment contribute to or detract
from teachers ability to increase test performance? For
designers, the challenge is to meet these goals while at
the same time addressing other important goals.
Conclusion
During the past 10 to 15 years, many exciting learning
environments have been designed and implemented in
and out of school. These environments represent new ap-
proaches to learning. Some are focused on individual
learning based on information-processing theory that
promotes more expert performance and ways of think-
ing. Analysis of task requirements and thinking of ex-
perts are the basis for these environments. Others stress
that learning is situated and social. More knowledgeable
individuals, such as teachers, scaffold experiences of
learners so that they can accomplish tasks they could not
complete on their own. Both approaches use tools to fa-
cilitate learning.
As a result of these learning environments, students
have been exposed to new ways of learning: solving
meaningful problems, working with others, using tech-
nology, creating artifacts. They have gained knowledge
and skills, appreciation for disciplinary practices, and
new dispositions to learning. Designing, enacting, and
scaling these types of learning environments is difficult
for all involvedresearchers, teachers, and students. In
this chapter, we highlight the premises and problems and
point to what we have learned and what we still need to
know. Most important, we argue that these challenges
and ways to address them inform both theory and
practice. It is true that enacting these environments is
challenging, yet the challenges should not be a deterrent
to adoption. The environments described represent am-
bitious pedagogy and strive for ambitious outcomes.
As we think about creating the learner, worker, and citi-
zen of tomorrow, we also need to think about how we
envision the next generation of schools. These types
of environments offer the promise of creating adaptive
learners, effective information users, collaborative
workers, and citizens who understand how knowledge is
generated in different disciplines. For all the challenges,
well-designed learning environments offer considerable
promise in attaining these goals.
Note: This work was prepared while the authors were
supported by grants from the National Science Founda-
tion (grants ESI-0101780, ESI-0227557, and REC-
0106959). All opinions expressed are the responsibility
of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of
the National Science Foundation.
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SECTI ON TWO
Research Advances
and Implications for
Clinical Applications
345
CHAPTER 9
Self-Regulation and Ef fort Investment
MONIQUE BOEKAERTS
SELF-REGULATION IN THE CLASSROOM 347
Self-Regulation Is Metacognitively Governed 348
Self-Regulation Is Consequential in Nature and
Affectively Charged 348
DIFFERENT PURPOSES OF SELF-REGULATION:
TOP-DOWN, BOTTOM-UP, AND VOLITION-
DRIVEN SELF-REGULATION 349
Top-Down or Higher-Order Goal-Driven
Self-Regulation 349
Bottom-Up or Cue-Driven Self-Regulation 350
Volition-Driven Self-Regulation 351
SELF-REGULATION OF MOTIVATION 351
Top-Down Self-Regulation: Experiencing
Need Satisfaction 352
Top-Down Self-Regulation: Attaching Value and
Experiencing Interest 353
Self-Regulation of Effort 356
CURRENT KNOWLEDGE ABOUT STUDENTS
EFFORT 359
Students Theory of Effort 359
Conditional Knowledge Is Necessary for the Self-
Regulation of Effort 359
Promoting Volitional Strategies in the Service of
Attaining Learning Goals 360
Development of Volitional Competence 360
Contextual Factors Impede or Promote Self-Regulation
of Effort 361
How Do Contextual Factors Interact with
Self-Regulation? 362
Interpreting the Phenomenological Experience of
Felt Difficulty 363
Experience of Difficulty: LowConfidence and Doubt 364
Experience of Difficulty: Taxing Processing Demands 365
PROMOTING STUDENTS WILLINGNESS TO
INVEST EFFORT INTO SCHOOL WORK 366
How Taxing Are Processing Demands in
the Classroom? 366
Training in the Use of Deep-Level
Processing Strategies 366
Willingness to Pay the Cost for the
Anticipated Benefits? 367
Summary 370
Where Is Effort Located within the Self-Regulation
Process? 370
CULTURALDIFFERENCES INTHESELF-
REGULATIONOF MOTIVATIONANDEFFORT 370
GUIDELINES FOR FURTHER RESEARCH
AND APPLICATIONS 372
Principles for Research and Practice 372
Questions with Which the Field Is Still Struggling 373
REFERENCES 373
Case Example
Thalia was a clever 2-year-old when her baby sister was
born. She had a large vocabulary and could express all
her thoughts. Her parents praised her verbal skills but
chided her stubbornness with respect to toilet training.
On the day her baby sister was born, Thalia was sitting
in the kitchen waiting for her favorite television pro-
gram to start when her grandmother said, You are a
big girl now, Thalia, and I would be very happy if you
let me help you to get rid of your Pampers. I am sure
you agree that walking around in wet Pampers is such a
nuisance. Thalia simply said that she was afraid to sit
on the toilet. A few minutes later, the phone rang and
Grandma told her that she had a baby sister and that
they had to leave for the hospital immediately. Thalia
threw a temper tantrum; she did not want a baby sister
and did not want to go to the hospital; she only wanted
to watch her program.
On their way to the hospital, Thalia was silent. She
realized that her baby sister would be her big rival from
now on, and this premonition was confirmed when they
entered the hospital room and all eyes were on Jenny.
Thalia tried several times to get her parents attention,
then gave up and silently slipped away. Grandma found
346 Self-Regulation and Ef fort Investment
her in the bathroom and asked her why she left the room.
Thalia replied, I hate Jenny. She refused to go back to
the room and started sobbing: I do not know what to do
about it. Grandma understood; she took her in her arms
and said, Tell you what, you come back with me and
ask your daddy to lift you up to have a close look at
Jenny. Then you tickle him the way he likes it and tell
him you love him very much. How is that? Thalia still
sulked but did as Grandma suggested. Her father cud-
dled her and said, You are my big girl, Thalia.
On their way home, Thalia was quiet for a while,
thenout of the blueshe announced, Grandma, I am
a big girl now and only babies wear Pampers. Will you
teach me to use the bathroom? I know it will be diffi-
cult, but I will do my very best. And, Grandma, can you
do it real fast?
At home, Grandma began to lead Thalia through a se-
ries of toilet-training activities that, on the surface,
might look familiar to anybody who has helped a child
use the bathroom. However, there were a number of sig-
nificant and purposeful differences. Grandma first ex-
plained that she had taught a lot of children to use the
bathroom and that all these children felt confident that
they could do it her way. Next she explained that chil-
dren might want to use the toilet seat in a different di-
rection than adults do, because they need to have a firm
grip on something for support, for example, the toilet
paper holder. They went through the successive motions
together. First, you observe what the best sitting direc-
tion is and which object you can use for support. Can
you tell me what this could be, Thalia? Yes, the toilet
paper holder would be a good choice. Then you lower
your pants, and when you have a firm grip on the toilet
paper holder, you lower your body on the toilet seat.
When youre finished, you pull yourself up and use
some paper to clean up. Finally, you flush the toilet and
pull up your pants. Thalia repeated in her own words
what she did while performing the successive actions.
Then she went through the successive motions herself
while Grandma pretended to clean the bathroom.
Grandma laughed when she heard Thalia say to her-
self, Hold your hands firmly on the toilet paper holder
for support. She remembered that one of her teachers
had stated that Vygotsky was the first to describe how
young children use private speech as a way to develop
internal control of their thoughts, feelings, and actions.
Then she heard Thalia scream and discovered that she
was hanging halfway between the wall and the toilet
seat. While Grandma was helping the child to find her
balance, Thalia said, Grandma, I tried to tear off some
toilet paper but I lost my balance. I still cannot do it
alone but I will try again later.
In the next few days, Grandma encouraged the train-
ing process by giving appropriate feedback and emo-
tional support. Thalia reflected on her actions and asked
several questions, such as, Grandma, what will happen
if there is no toilet paper holder to hang on to? What can
I do if the toilet seat is too high to sit on? Can we prac-
tice in another bathroom? By the time her mother and
baby sister came home from the hospital, Thalia had be-
come a competent user of the bathroom, who was inde-
pendent of the adult who had instructed her.
Thalias case provides a real-world context for this
chapter. I selected this true story because I was im-
pressed by the self-regulation strategies that a 2-year-
old could use to pursue her own goals. Thalia formed a
mental representation of the hospital situation. She ob-
served that her parents were focused on Jenny and that
they neglected her. She interpreted her parents behavior
as a signal that they loved Jenny more than her. She
wanted to do something to change the situation for the
better but felt helpless.
Thalia has a goal and she is aware that she does not
have a plan of action to pursue this goal. Hence, Thalia
provides us with evidence that she searched her memory
for a strategy that she had used in the past that would be
appropriate in the present context. Winne and Perry
(2000) have referred to this type of knowledge as condi-
tional knowledge, or if-then chains that link conditions
to cognitive operations. This knowledge is necessary to
produce new cognitions or behavior products.
Why is self-regulation an important construct, and
what might the reader find in this review? In longitudi-
nal classroom studies, my colleagues and I have exam-
ined the relative contribution of high school students
work habits and their perception of situational cues on
the intensity of reported effort after completing mathe-
matics homework. We found (e.g., Boekaerts, 2002c)
that the intensity of effort was predicted by the students
learning style (i.e., the type of learning strategies they
preferentially used in a domain), their volition style
(i.e., whether they had access to volition strategies that
promote taking initiative, persisting, and disengaging
from ruminating thoughts), and their appraisal of the ac-
tual homework task. Our results showed that, after con-
trolling for work habits, the self-regulation of effort in
relation to mathematics homework is uniquely deter-
Self-Regulation in the Classroom 347
mined by students perception of the task characteris-
tics and their phenomenological experience. We found
that perceived difficulty predicted the investment of ef-
fort negatively, and perceived task value predicted it
positively. I think that these and similar results have
shed light on the whys of students self-regulation of
motivation and effort and that these results are impor-
tant for the design of new studies and for the promotion
of self-regulation in the classroom.
In the first section of this chapter I argue that laypeo-
ple and researchers still have a hazy sense of what self-
regulation entails. I highlight recent conceptualizations
and empirical findings related to the self-regulation of
motivation and effort, documenting why we cannot com-
prehend childrens and adolescents engagement and
persistence in the classroom unless we understand how
they steer and direct their behavior in the direction of
valued goals and away from undesired goals. Accord-
ingly, I propose to look at engagement and disengage-
ment patterns from a self-regulation perspective. I
supply examples from recent research, including my own
research program, to illustrate how we have translated
our theorizing about self-regulation of motivation and
effort into research designs and into practice (guided
principles for intervention), but also how practice led
back into theory. In the final section, I offer some prin-
ciples for research and practice and also point to some
unresolved issues.
SELF-REGULATION IN THE CLASSROOM
Self-regulation is a construct that has been around for
quite a while. As early as 1978, Vygotsky argued that
young children are capable of regulating their own
learning and can be most deliberate, involved, and com-
mitted to steering and directing their own actions. In
the past 2 decades, educational psychologists have sys-
tematically explored the various ways that children and
adolescents use self-regulatory strategies as a means to
develop internal control of their thoughts and actions
during the learning process. Numerous research studies
have described the critical and complex relationships
that exist between various aspects of self-regulation and
achievement. What is self-regulation and which aspects
of self-regulation have been studied extensively?
Recent theories of self-regulation locate the sources
of individual functioning neither in static personality
traits (e.g., hardiness or conscientiousness) nor in envi-
ronmental constraints and affordances, but in across-
episode patterns of self-regulation. Boekaerts, Maes,
and Karoly (2005) defined self-regulation as a multi-
level, multicomponent process that targets affect, cogni-
tions, and actions, as well as features of the environment
for modulation in the service of ones goals. Given this
definition, the key self-regulation processes are goal-
related and include goal establishment, making an ac-
tion plan, goal striving, and goal revision (Austin &
Vancouver, 1996). In the classroom, the most salient
goals that students need to establish, plan, strive for, and
revise are learning and achievement goals.
A scan of the literature on self-regulation in the
classroom reveals that educational psychologists pro-
posed several evolving models of classroom self-
regulation (for a review, see Boekaerts & Corno, 2005;
Boekaerts, Pintrich, & Zeidner, 2000; Perry, 2002;
Schunk & Zimmerman, 1998; Winne, 1995). Each of the
models emphasized slightly different aspects of self-
regulation, yet all share some basic assumptions. All in-
vestigators assume that students who are capable of
steering and directing their own learning process are
engaged actively and constructively in a process of
meaning generation, adapting at the same time their
thoughts, feelings, and actions to steer and direct the
learning process.
Despite this agreement, most educational psycholo-
gists involved in self-regulation research in the class-
room have adopted a specific focus on self-regulation;
they concentrate on the learning and achievement goals
that students pursue in the classroom, thus narrowing
the scope of students ability to self-regulate through a
deliberate focus on the cognitive aspects of self-
regulation that are necessary and sufficient to steer and
direct the learning process. The advantage of such a
clear and deliberate focus on the regulation of the learn-
ing process itself is that these self-regulation models
have been firmly grounded in domain-specific theories
of competence development.
Detailed information is now available on the regula-
tion strategies that successful students use in different
subject matter areas, such as on how children become
competent text processors (Pressley, 1995), composition
writers (Scardamalia & Bereiter, 1985), and problem
solvers in science and mathematics (De Corte, Ver-
schaffel, & Op t Eynde, 2000). The basic assumption of
most self-regulation models that focus on the regulation
of the learning process is that students cannot steer and
348 Self-Regulation and Ef fort Investment
direct their own learning unless the conditions for self-
regulation are present. What are these conditions? An
answer provided by educational psychologists who pri-
marily focused on the learning process is that students
need to have ready access to a large repertoire of cogni-
tive and learning strategies, awareness of these strate-
gies, and knowledge of the contexts in which these
strategies will be effective (Hattie, Biggs, & Purdie,
1996). Investigators who took the students motivation
as their focal point of interest give a different answer.
These researchers argued that students need to have
ready access to a large repertoire of motivation and voli-
tion strategies, awareness of these strategies, and knowl-
edge of the contexts in which these strategies will be
effective (Boekaerts & Corno, 2005; Paris & Paris,
2001; Wolters & Rosenthal, 2000). In the next two sec-
tions, I briefly review studies that documented these
complementary viewpoints.
Self-Regulation Is Metacognitively Governed
Winne (1996, p. 327) defined self-regulated learning as
a metacognitively governed behavior wherein learners
adaptively regulate their use of cognitive tactics and
strategies in tasks. Winne and Hadwin (1998) further
argued that self-regulated learning consists of four in-
terdependent and recursive phases: defining the task,
goal setting and planning, enacting the plan, and adapt-
ing ones approach and strategies when a desired goal or
outcome has not been met. Winnes work followed the
tradition of Flavell (1979), who had made a clear dis-
tinction between cognition and metacognition (cogni-
tion about cognition). In the 1970s and 1980s, the work
of two developmental psychologists, Flavell (1979) and
Brown (1978) was influential as a way of studying
the development of students capabilities over time.
Both theorists highlighted the construct of metacogni-
tion and defined it as students knowledge about cogni-
tive processes (e.g., study skills, cognitive and learning
strategies) and their self-awareness of a knowledge base
in which information is stored about which cognitive
strategies are useful and effective to reach specific
learning goals. Since then, numerous studies have shown
that access to a coherent metacognitive knowledge base
as well as the ability to use this knowledge base to re-
flect on ones learning and regulation processes are es-
sential preconditions for the regulation of learning
(P. A. Alexander, 2003; Pressley, 1995; Winne, 1995).
The conclusion reached by three independent meta-
analyses of learning skill interventions (Haller, Child, &
Walberg, 1988; Hattie et al., 1996; Rosenshine, Meister,
& Chapman, 1996) was that promotion of a high degree
of metacognitive awareness is a crucial feature of effec-
tive learning skill training.
Although not all of the research mentioned in this
section has been categorized in the literature under the
heading of metacognition, these scholars all assume
that self-awareness of and access to metacognitive
knowledge directs learning (e.g., monitoring difficulty
level, a feeling of knowing) and forms the basis for task
analysis and determining task demands. Hence, self-
regulating ones learning is best defined as an executive
process that makes use of the available metacognitive
knowledge and consists of a combination of metacogni-
tive strategies by which students orient on the task at
hand, plan and implement their actions, monitor and
evaluate their choice of strategies, and remedy ineffec-
tive strategies (De Corte et al., 2000; Pressley, 1995).
Worldwide, children have profited from these in-
sights and their applications. Teachers and school
consultants have been informed on how to design inter-
vention programs that target the development of cogni-
tive and metacognitive strategies that form a
prerequisite for self-regulated learning in everyday
classroom activities. For example, De Corte et al. devel-
oped an intervention for the development of cognitive
and metacognitive strategies in mathematics for pri-
mary school children and showed that students who
learned to use these strategies were more competent
problem solvers than students receiving traditional in-
struction. Similar results were reported with different
age groups and in relation to different school subjects
(for a review, see Boekaerts & Corno, 2005). Further-
more, worked examples of different self-regulation
strategies have found their way into textbooks and
homework assignments, and new instruction methods
have been designed to improve childrens cognitive and
metacognitive strategies. An excellent example is the
highly successful reciprocal teaching program designed
by Palincsar and Brown (1984), in which teachers
model comprehension and integration strategies, such
as analyzing the text, asking questions, giving clarifica-
tions, summarizing, paraphrasing, and predicting.
Self-Regulation Is Consequential in Nature and
Affectively Charged
Let us now turn to those researchers who provided an al-
ternative answer to the question What are the conditions
for self-regulation to occur? Motivation researchers
Dif ferent Purposes of Self-Regulation: Top-Down, Bottom-Up, and Volition-Driven Self-Regulation 349
pointed out that many students have the capacity to use
their metacognitive knowledge and (meta)cognitive
strategies to direct their own learning, but they lack the
motivation and volition to apply this knowledge when
learning in a new domain.
Classroom life is complex; biological, developmental,
contextual, and individual difference constraints inter-
fere with or support students self-regulation (Pintrich,
2000). There may be many reasons why students do not
feel the need to invest time and effort in the selection of
those cognitive and learning strategies that are most ap-
propriate in a given learning context. Skill does not au-
tomatically create will; accordingly, students appraisal
of the learning conditions and their access to motivation
and volitional strategies needs to be brought to the
foreground to gain better insight into the self-regulation
process as it occurs in real time (e.g., Boekaerts, 1997,
2002a; Corno, 2001; Pintrich, 2000; Randi & Corno,
2000; Rheinberg, Vollmeyer, & Rollett, 2000; Volet,
1997; Wigfield, Eccles, & Rodriguez, 1998; Zimmer-
man, 2000).
How do students choose the tasks and activities that
they engage in? When are they willing to heighten their
cognitive and behavioral engagement? Why do students
lower effort during goal pursuit? Why do they quit cer-
tain learning activities more frequently than others?
These and related questions are important to re-
searchers, teachers, and anybody who is involved in stu-
dent learning. Educational psychology abounds with
terms that refer to motivated behavior in the classroom,
including (school, intellectual, emotional, behavioral,
and cognitive) engagement, effort (management, alloca-
tion, regulation), and persistence. Robust bodies of lit-
erature address each of these constructs. Reviewing this
literature is a substantial task, but it is not my intention
to duplicate excellent reviews, such as those by Corno
and Mandinach (2004) and Fredricks, Blumenfeld, and
Paris (2004). Instead, I want to draw attention to the
lack of consensus on definitional components of motiva-
tion, interest, and effort regulation. In my opinion, we
cannot comprehend childrens and adolescents engage-
ment and disengagement patterns in the classroom un-
less we understand how they steer and direct their
behavior in the direction of valued goals and away from
undesired goals, especially when they are faced with
obstacles, breakdowns, and setbacks. Boekaerts and
Corno (2005) pointed out that, at present, the phenome-
nology of self-regulation strategies is heterogeneous, in-
volving diverse types of patterns of self-regulation with
different purposes, learning trajectories, and suscepti-
bility to intervention. What is needed is a comprehen-
sive theory in which self-regulation is conceptualized as
a systems construct and the different purposes that self-
regulation serves are clearly defined, operationalized,
and integrated.
DIFFERENTPURPOSES OFSELF-
REGULATION: TOP-DOWN, BOTTOM-UP,
ANDVOLITION-DRIVENSELF-REGULATION
In this section, I explain how the different purposes
of self-regulation are conceptualized in my dual pro-
cessing self-regulation model (see Boekaerts, 1993;
Boekaerts & Niemivirta, 2000).
Top-Down or Higher-Order Goal-Driven
Self-Regulation
I begin with a short introduction to my dual processing
model of self-regulation as it is currently conceived.
This model was first introduced in 1992 but was elabo-
rated and extended over the years as theory building in
self-regulation progressed and empirical studies shed
light on the phenomena described in the model. The dual
processing model of self-regulation that I developed to-
gether with my colleagues used insights from social psy-
chology (Kuhl, 1985; Leventhal, 1980) to describe two
goal priorities that students strive for in the context of
the classroom, namely, achieving gains in their re-
sources (e.g., extending their domain-specific knowl-
edge bases, improving cognitive strategy use, increasing
competence) and keeping their well-being within rea-
sonable bounds (e.g., feeling safe, secure, happy, satis-
fied). Students try to achieve a balance between these
two goal priorities by straddling the divide between the
so-called mastery or growth pathway (e.g., striving for
mastery goals; see broken lines in Figure 9.1) and the
well-being pathway (e.g., striving for security; see dot-
ted lines in Figure 9.1).
It is assumed that students who are invited to partici-
pate in a learning activity use three sources of infor-
mation to form a mental representation of the task-
in-context and to appraise it: (1) current perceptions of
the task and the physical, social, and instructional con-
text within which it is embedded; (2) activated domain-
specific knowledge and (meta)cognitive strategies
related to the task; and (3) motivational beliefs, includ-
ing domain-specific capacity, interest, and effort be-
liefs. Task and self-appraisals hold a central position in
350 Self-Regulation and Ef fort Investment
Figure 9.1 Dual processing self-regulation model depicting
the different purposes of self-regulation: top-down self-
regulation ( ), bottom-up self-regulation (- - -), and volition-
driven self-regulation ( - - - - -).
1
Task-in-Context
Assessment
Affect
Growth Pathway Well-Being Pathway
Learning
Intention
(Meta)Cognitive
Strategy Use
Motivational
beliefs
Appraisal
WM
the model. It is assumed that students are ready to start
activity in the growth pathway when a learning opportu-
nity, and the tasks or activities within it, is congruent
with their salient personal goals or when they were suc-
cessful in bringing the learning task in line with the core
guiding principles of their goal system. In the latter
case, they have adopted the learning goal, meaning that
they have formed a learning intention, and start activity
in the growth pathway. Hence, favorable task appraisals
lead to self-driven self-regulation, meaning that stu-
dents steer and direct the flow of energy from the top
down. Top-down self-regulation implies that students
own values, interests, and higher-order goals, which are
located at the apex of their goal hierarchy, drive their
goal pursuit. At such a point, students learning inten-
tion is firmly in place and they engage actively in the
learning process (they start crossing the Rubicon; see
later discussion for an explanation).
Bottom-Up or Cue-Driven Self-Regulation
As Kuhl and Fuhrman (1998) pointed out, good inten-
tions may not be put into use and result in goal accom-
plishment. Many obstacles might occur en route to the
learning goal, and students need access to specific self-
regulation strategies to overcome these obstacles. For
example, environmental cues may signal to students that
the learning environment is not safe. At such a point,
students will start exploring the environment for further
cues or quit the situation, rather than devoting attention
and energy to the learning task itself. In other words,
when children or adolescents detect cues that signal
threat to psychological well-being, they will redirect
their attention to the threat, thus drawing attention and
processing capacity away from the learning task. This
shift in focus is visualized in Figure 9.1 by the dotted
line, marked 1, that runs from the growth pathway to the
well-being pathway. In such instances, students are en-
gaged in self-appraisal rather than task appraisal and
bring different questions to bear on the situation, such
as: Can any harm or loss of face come to me? Will I look
stupid if I do this? or Is this a cool thing to do? My argu-
ment is that at some earlier point in time, a linkage has
been created between specific environmental cues and
the childs safety goals, and that activation of this link-
age triggers negative emotions, experienced as turbu-
lence, disturbance, or a discrepancy in the affect system
(see also Covington, 2004; Pekrun, Goetz, Titz, &
Perry, 2002).
The point being made here is that perception of spe-
cific environmental cues (task-in-context) may create a
mismatch with the students current learning intention
and trigger cue-driven or bottom-up forms of self-
regulation with the purpose of preventing threat, harm,
or loss. Hence, unfavorable task appraisals prompt stu-
dents to steer and direct the flow of energy bottom-up;
cues in the environment and the anticipated negative
consequences they call forth drive the students goal
pursuit. Boekaerts (1999) and Boekaerts and Corno
(2005) described the purpose of this form of self-
regulation as engaging in activities that maintain
or restore the equilibrium in the well-being system.
Several researchers have referred to this form of
self-regulation as coping (Boekaerts, 1993, 1999;
Frydenberg, 1999). Three basic forms of coping have
been discerned: emotion-focused coping (e.g., crying,
shouting, self-blame, denial, distraction, avoidance,
delay), problem-focused coping (e.g., search for infor-
mation, active and instrumental behavior, soliciting so-
cial support, mindful problem solving), and reappraisal
of the situation (making a new mental representation of
the stressor). Stress researchers emphasized that use of
the different coping strategies critically depends on the
students appraisal of the situation and their awareness
of and access to coping strategies that are effective to
Self-Regulation of Motivation 351
restore their well-being in a given context. Note that
this definition recognizes the criticality of metacogni-
tive or conditional knowledge for effective coping, even
though the term metacognition is totally alien in this
field of study. By the same token, educational psychol-
ogists have not borrowed any insights from research on
coping. Yet, the distinction that coping researchers
have made between the different ways that children and
adolescents deal with obstacles, setbacks, failures, and
breakdowns is highly relevant for the self-regulation
processes in the classroom.
Volition-Driven Self-Regulation
Accordingly, Boekaerts and colleagues (Boekaerts,
1993, 1999; Boekaerts & Corno, 2005) blended con-
structs and research findings from both these fields and
proposed that students use two types of self-regulation
strategies when environmental cues trigger emotions
and a shift to the well-being pathway. At such a point in
time, students may use their regulation strategies to ex-
plore the extent of the threat, loss, or harm to well-being
in order to restore well-being to a reasonable level as fast
as possible. However, they may also use their regulation
strategies to target obstacles and setbacks for modula-
tion in the service of the learning goal. Hence, the dual
processing model of self-regulation assumes that stu-
dents have two alternatives when obstacles arise. They
may want to address the noted discrepancy in the well-
being system urgently (i.e., emotion-focused coping)
and stay on the well-being pathway. Alternatively, they
may want to reroute their activities toward growth goals
when environmental cues have triggered activity in the
well-being pathway. This rerouting is visualized in Fig-
ure 9.1 by the path marked 2 that runs from the well-
being pathway to the growth pathway.
The former way to target ones cognitions, feelings,
and actions is relabeled bottom-up self-regulation
to contrast it to top-down self-regulation ( here a con-
trast is made between value-driven and interest-driven
self-regulation versus cue-driven and emotion-driven
self-regulation). The latter way of targeting ones cog-
nitions, feelings, and actions is renamed volition-driven
self-regulation because it refers to the effort students
invest to stay on, or get back on, the growth path de-
spite detected obstacles ( here the contrast is between
value-driven and interest-driven self-regulation versus
volition-driven self-regulation). It might help to con-
ceptualize volitional strategies as the switching track
of a railway system. By turning all lights to red in the
affective system, students can continue with the learn-
ing activity; they stay on the growth pathway by block-
ing or attenuating activity in the well-being pathway
temporarily.
It is important to realize that students who are on the
growth pathway have direct access to motivation strate-
gies that inject value and interest into the task or activ-
ity. Next, I provide a brief overview of theories, models,
and research findings that underscore this statement.
SELF-REGULATION OF MOTIVATION
Thalias case illustrates that self-regulation in a natural
environment is consequential in nature and affectively
charged. Learning experiences that occur in a natural
context are often self-initiated or occur spontaneously.
Another characteristic of natural environments is that
learning is cumulative and socially situated. Thalias ex-
ample shows that a specific event ( her baby sister is
born) and her interpretation of that event motivates her
to self-regulate her actions to develop a skill that she
had considered difficult and redundant till that moment.
What explains her motivation to acquire the new skill
and her persistence despite setbacks?
One of the basic assumptions of my dual processing
self-regulation model is that favorable task appraisals
lead to value-driven or interest-driven self-regulation,
meaning that the flow of energy fueling the learning pro-
cess is coming from students higher-order goals, based
on their values, needs, and interests. In other words,
learning acquisition is energized and directed from the
top down. Several theorists made a clear distinction be-
tween goal-directed behavior where the meaning and
value comes from the self and goal-directed behavior
where individuals pursue goals that are valued by others,
either because they cannot avoid these goals or because
they are prepared to endorse them. (Kuhl & Fuhrman,
1998 preferred to label this form of regulation self-
control to contrast it to true forms of self-regulation.)
Clearly, many goals that individuals pursue in real-life
classroom situations are located in between goals that
are truly valued by the self and imposed goals. Neverthe-
less, the distinction between self-regulation and self-
control is crucial because there is emerging evidence that
the self-regulatory processes that steer and direct indi-
viduals behavior toward these two different types of
goals are distinctive (e.g., Grolnick & Ryan, 1987; Kehr,
352 Self-Regulation and Ef fort Investment
Bless, & Rosenstiel, 1999; Kuhl & Fuhrman, 1998;
Reeve, 2002; R. M. Ryan & Deci, 2002). I will take up
this point again later in the discussion, but first I refer to
two major forms of the self-regulation of motivation,
namely, experiencing need satisfaction and attaching
value to a task or activity.
Top-Down Self-Regulation: Experiencing
Need Satisfaction
Deci and Ryan (1985) and R. M. Ryan and Deci (2002)
placed the origin of peoples motivation in three basic
psychological needs: the need for competence, auton-
omy, and social relatedness. Anticipation of fulfillment
of these basic psychological needs forms the basis for in-
trinsic motivation and autonomous self-regulation.
These researchers predicted and found that when the
learning conditions support a persons basic psychologi-
cal needs, he or she will experience need satisfaction
and show active and constructive engagement as well as
positive emotions. By contrast, when the learning condi-
tions frustrate one of the basic psychological needs, in-
dividuals will anticipate negative consequences and
experience negative emotions. Thalia feels the need for
social relatedness. She wants to relate to her parents and
maintain the close bonds that she had with them prior to
her sisters arrival. To keep their attention and love, she
wants to impress them by showing that she can use the
bathroom on her own. Anticipation of their positive re-
actions has created the need for competence; she wants
to master a skill that she had not valued before. She also
feels a need for autonomy; she wants to practice the new
skillnot because her parents think she should not wet
her pants but because she has decided that this skill is
important for her.
This example illustrates that very young children can
represent an immediate and urgent need mentally. It also
shows that it is important that the environment facilitate
the fulfillment of a given set of needs. The presence of
her grandmother, who can help her focus on her needs
by creating a succession of successful learning experi-
ences, sets the scene for the development of effective
self-regulation (e.g., Grandma, what will happen if
there is no toilet paper holder to hang on to? Can we
practice somewhere else?).
My main point is that optimal conditions for the de-
velopment of self-regulation can be created when chil-
dren are given the chance to pursue goals that they
themselves find personally relevant and are invited to
develop their self-regulation skills by selecting their
own tasks and activities, taking initiative, showing ac-
tive engagement, and making their own decisions. Nu-
merous studies have shown that satisfaction of the three
basic psychological needs promotes well-being and posi-
tive functioning in individuals of all ages, whereas frus-
tration of those needs creates ill-being (Kasser & Ryan,
1993, 1996; A. M. Ryan, 2000). Hence, information
about the fulfillment of childrens basic psychological
needs will provide a basis for researchers, teachers, and
school consultants to learn which aspects of the environ-
ment are supportive of childrens active engagement and
which are antagonistic to engagement and effort.
Fulfillment of Psychological Needs in a
Classroom Context
There are a number of reasons why learning activities
that foster self-regulation may be harder to realize in a
classroom context than in a natural learning environ-
ment. Teachers often set learning goals for their stu-
dents that are specified in the curriculum, and they
create several successive learning episodes in which stu-
dents are invited (read: coerced, coaxed) to show goal-
directed behavior. Unfortunately, most teacher-provided
learning opportunities do not automatically create a felt
need, implying that students are not intrinsically moti-
vated to acquire the new skill and that their behavior
will not be guided by autonomous self-regulation.
Ryan and Deci (2002) gave the need for autonomy a
primary role in the self-regulation process and de-
scribed different types of motivation along a continuum
of self-regulation. On the left end of the continuum they
located controlled behavioral regulation; it occurs when
a child feels coerced to attain a goal (e.g., My parents
would feel upset if I did not do my homework). Au-
tonomous self-regulation is located at the other extreme
of the self-regulation continuum; it occurs when indi-
viduals choose the goal themselves because they feel a
psychological need (e.g., I want to solve this problem
because I want to find out why this strategy did not
work). There is abundant evidence that when individu-
als feel ownership of their goalseither because they
inherently enjoy the activity or because it fits with their
values or higher-order goalsthey devote more time,
show greater concentration, and process information
deeper (Grolnick & Ryan, 1987), experience flow
(Csikzentmihalyi, 1990), and persist longer (R. M. Ryan
Self-Regulation of Motivation 353
& Connell, 1989). Conversely, when individuals feel co-
erced to achieve a goaleither because they believe that
external contingencies are the cause of their behavior
(external regulation) or because they would feel guilty
or anxious if they did not pursue the goal (introjected
regulation)they score lower on these outcomes. Lemos
(2002) provided evidence that pressure to comply with
goals of others hinders the personalization of goals and
leads to overcontrolled, rigid behavior or undercon-
trolled behavior governed by ones urges (e.g., aggres-
sive behavior).
In line with the theoretical assumptions of Ryan and
Deci (2002), researchers and teachers expect that stu-
dents behavior will be guided from the top down by
their own learning or mastery goals, yet they forget that
most learning tasks that students have to complete in the
classroom are not self-chosen and might frustrate the
students need for autonomy. Strong evidence supports
the need for autonomy hypothesis in elementary school
children. Children who work in classrooms where the
teacher supports their need for autonomy (i.e., where
teachers offer choices and create opportunities for deci-
sion making) work more strategically and persist longer
when they meet obstacles (Nolen, 2003; Perry, 1998;
J. C. Turner, 1995). However, no such strong effects
were found in junior high school (Midgley & Feldlaufer,
1987). Eccles et al. (1993) explained these findings by
reference to the large amount of teacher control, as well
as the strong emphasis on rules and regulations, in jun-
ior high school. Interestingly, Kendall (1992) compared
children from a Montessori school, where one of the
main features is that students are given the opportunity
to pursue their own goals by selecting tasks and activi-
ties that they value, with children from a traditional
school. The Montessori children showed higher levels of
initiative, autonomy, and self-regulation. Hence, it is
important to have a closer look at how instructional
methods interact with students need for autonomy.
Nolens (2003) recent classroom studies illustrated
the autonomy hypothesis quite convincingly in ongoing
classroom interaction. She studied second and third
graders states of mind in relation to writing and read-
ing classes and found that these states of mind were de-
pendent on the teachers skills in setting up these
classes. Nolen described how, in some classrooms, the
teacher presented writing assignments as opportunities
for creative self-expression and a way to share ideas. In
those classrooms, children considered writing exercises
as a game. The wording they chose to describe their ac-
tivities in class showed that they felt fully volitional in
their actions and considered the classroom environment
as supporting their autonomy. Examples of such utter-
ances were: You get to write about your own life and
You get to make up your own stories. These state-
ments contrasted to utterances recorded in classrooms
where the teacher exerted more control over topics and
style of writing assignments and assigned writing exer-
cises primarily for evaluation purposes. The students in
these classrooms viewed improving their writing skills
as something done for school: We had to copy all the
words and You are supposed to write about your own
ideas. Nolen concluded that the development of interest
in reading and writing is influenced by the way students
characterize reading and writing activity: as a job to be
done for school, or as a way to share ideas and be enter-
tained. It is important to note that feeling coerced or
controlled does not reside exclusively in the environ-
ment. It can also be a state of mind that is triggered
when being confronted with a domain by thinking about
external rules and constraints that apply in that domain
(R. M. Ryan, 1982).
Top-Down Self-Regulation: Attaching Value and
Experiencing Interest
In the previous section, the emphasis was on the stu-
dents psychological needs and how need fulfillment
fuels top-down self-regulation. In this section, I want to
illustrate that the flow of energy might also come from
the students values and interest.
Attaching Positive Value to Tasks and Activities
Hickey and McCaslin (2001) argued that when learning
is viewed as intrinsic sense making, engagement in the
learning process occurs quite naturally. These theorists
argued that engagement in learning is a function of prior
experiences, learning, and understanding how the con-
text interacts with the learning process. If students do
not have a favorable expectation that they will be able to
make sense of a learning task and its context, hardly any
learning will occur. These assumptions underlie ex-
pectancy value theory, which assumes that individuals
are motivated to perform tasks and actions that they
value and perceive as manageable.
Eccles and her colleagues (Eccles, 1987; Eccles &
Wigfield, 2002; Wigfield & Eccles, 1992) developed
354 Self-Regulation and Ef fort Investment
and tested the expectancy value model in relation to the
choices students make in achievement situations. One of
the basic assumptions of the model is that all choices
come at a cost: If you choose to solve one problem, read
one text, or enroll for a particular course, it often means
that you eliminate other options. Therefore, the relative
value that students attach to each alternative and their
perceived probability of success on the task are key ele-
ments in their decision-making process. Eccles and her
colleagues identified four components of task value: in-
trinsic value (How much will I enjoy doing the task?),
utility value (Is this task instrumental for attaining cur-
rent or future goals?), attainment value (How important
is it for me to do well on the task?), and cost (What will
I lose or give up by doing the task?).
Eccles and colleagues also studied how students
competence beliefs influence the value they attach to a
task or activity, and vice versa. In line with Banduras
(1997) self-efficacy theory, Eccles and Wigfield (2002)
reported that changes in students competence beliefs
over a semester predicted changes in their value compo-
nent, rather than the other way around. Wigfield (1994)
pointed out the interesting developmental trend that
young childrens values and competence beliefs seem
to start out relatively independent, but, over time, they
might attach more value to achievement tasks that
they can complete successfully and less value to activi-
ties that they find difficult. In fact, Wigfield et al.
(1998) showed that at some point in time, values and
competence-related beliefs become positively linked,
thus ensuring that the individual maintains a positive
sense of self. Accordingly, Eccles and Wigfield assumed
that the positive affect that is experienced when one can
successfully complete a task becomes attached to these
activities and is triggered on later occasions. By the
same token, negative affect may become attached to
tasks and activities that one cannot perform well.
It is important to note that several of the value con-
structs that Eccles and her colleagues identified have
been studied under different labels. For example, there is
an extensive body of research on instrumentality, which
is akin to utility value (e.g., Husman & Lens, 1999), and
intrinsic value has been studied under different head-
ings, most specifically under the heading of intrinsic
motivation and interest (Hidi & Harackiewicz, 2001;
Krapp & Lewalter, 2001; Renninger, 1990). Note further
that self-efficacy and expectancy beliefs have long been
identified as crucial in self-regulation and that the bene-
ficial effect of self-efficacy on student interest and en-
gagement has been well documented at all ages (Ban-
dura, 1997; Pintrich, 2000; Zimmerman, 2000).
Experiencing Interest
Sansone and Harackiewicz (1996) drew attention to
the fact that theorists who focused on intrinsic motiva-
tion also considered expectancies and goal valuation
processes as crucial components of their models, yet as-
signed specific meaning to these constructs. They also
acknowledge that there are two aspects of outcome-
derived motivation (expectancy and value) and that
these two aspects work multiplicatively (students needs
both aspects to regulate their motivation effectively).
Sansone and Harackiewicz argued convincingly that it is
important to make an explicit distinction between pur-
pose goals and target goals. The former type of goal pro-
vides a reason for performing a task or activity (What
am I trying to achieve and why?). For example, Thalia
wants to learn to use the bathroom in order to impress
her parents. The latter type of goal provides more con-
crete guidelines as to which steps should be taken at a
specific point in time. Thalia wants to know what ob-
jects she can use for support in order not to lose her bal-
ance. In other words, Thalia derives motivation from
activated knowledge about the purpose of her activities
and she realizes that she needs to have access to con-
crete scripts ( behavioral sequences) to keep her motiva-
tion alive.
Sansone and Harackiewicz (1996) proposed that mo-
tivation to reach the goal is also derived from the activ-
ity itself. In line with the extensive body of literature on
interest (Ainley, Hidi, & Berndorff, 2002; Krapp, 2003)
they described the positive phenomenological experi-
ence of intrinsic interest. Students feel like doing a task
or activity when they are cognitively and affectively
absorbed in a task and show high task involvement.
Sansone and Harackiewicz predicted and found that in-
dividuals phenomenological experience while working
toward their goals exerts a greater influence on their
willingness to engage actively in the activity than the
initial motivation based on purpose and target goals.
Applying these insights to Thalias case means that
outcome-derived motivation may be necessary and suf-
ficient to draw Thalia into the toilet-training activity,
but process-derived motivation is necessary to maintain
performance over time. If Thalia does not have problem-
atic affective experiences during goal pursuit, she will
feel good about the training sessions and will be willing
to invest time and effort to reach the goal.
Self-Regulation of Motivation 355
The importance of students phenomenological
experiences while working toward the attainment of aca-
demic learning goals, particularly their emergent inter-
est, in facilitating and maintaining performance in
educational settings has been the object of investigation
of interest researchers. For example, Ainley et al. (2002)
showed that the nature of a task may have a major
impact on students phenomenological experiences and
their engagement in the task. They reported several
studies that showed the effect of emergent interest on
students continued engagement. These researchers
found that students who were given a choice between
two learning activities (e.g., which problem to solve,
which topic to read or to write a composition about) ac-
tivated stored information about the type of learning ac-
tivity. The level of their reported interest in the topic,
triggered by the teachers brief description of the con-
tent of the learning activity, predicted the students
choice of activity and initiated engagement with the ac-
tivity. Unfortunately, students discontinued the activity
when they did not feel good about the task any longer,
that is, when the learning experience did not live up to
their interest expectation.
Interest researchers have also shown that students
do not develop an interest in a study area or course un-
less they are invited to participate in learning situations
that catch and hold their interest. Interest theory (Hidi
& Harackiewicz, 2001; Krapp, 2003; Renninger, 1998,
2000) makes a distinction between situational interest
and individual interest. The former develops during con-
crete interactions between the person and the object of
(potential) interest, whereas the latter form of interest
refers to a relatively stable tendency to engage in inter-
action with an object of interest. Krapp outlined how an
object, topic, or activity that is introduced to a person
evolves from an interesting situational event to a longer-
lasting individual interest. He describes the growth of an
individual interest out of a situational interest as a mul-
tistage process and considers attention and curiosity es-
sential prerequisites for a longer-lasting interest to
develop. The learners attention should be caught and
held long enough to allow experimentation and explo-
ration; keeping the momentum going after the initial at-
tention given to the object of interest is essential to
proceed from situational interest to a stabilized interest
stage that produces deep learning. A well-developed in-
terest in a domain of study is reflected in a highly dif-
ferentiated knowledge domain and many connections to
other related domains.
Translating Value and Interest into an
Intention to Learn
Researchers and teachers expect students to be inter-
ested in a multitude of topics, courses, instructional
methods, and learning environments. They realize that
when students have developed an individual interest in a
domain, this ensures that they show a high readiness
to acquire new information and to enlarge their compe-
tencies in that domain. However, students do not show
longer-lasting interests with all school subjects, and it is
essential that teachers support their students meaning-,
value-, and interest-generation processes.
Crossing the Rubicon
Heckhausen and Kuhl (1985) argued that for learning
goals to be pursued, students motivation in a domain
has to be transformed into an intention to engage ac-
tively and constructively in concrete learning activi-
ties. These researchers also argued that intentions to
acteven those that are self-intentionalmight be
abandoned later on because individuals do not invest
enough effort in maintaining their intentions and pro-
tecting them from competing action tendencies. In
other words, students may have established a goal and
translated it into an intention to act in the goal-setting
stage but give up on the goal in the goal-striving stage.
The Rubicon model proposed by Heckhausen and Kuhl
and later elaborated by Gollwitzer (1990, 1999) de-
scribes the link between the goal-setting and goal-
striving stages as a path connecting two sides of a river
representing commitment. Goal-setting processes pre-
cede commitment. These processes refer to the individ-
uals conscious and preconscious attempts to transform
a motivational state into an intention to act. In the
goal-setting stage, students make decisions about the
targets, focus, expectancies, and type of engagement
that they will commit themselves to. They may raise
several what, how, and why questions before they
begin to cross the Rubicon, such as What is in it for
me? How can I make this task more fun? Why is this
skill important? It is evident that it is much easier for
students to commit themselves to a learning goal while
crossing the Rubicon when (a) they value the activity;
( b) they experience a positive experiential state, char-
acterized by joy, excitement, a feeling of competence
and interest in the activity; and/or (c) the environmen-
tal conditions catch their interest and hold it long
enough for the activity or task to be completed.
356 Self-Regulation and Ef fort Investment
Motivation Regulation Strategies. Several re-
searchers have described the motivation regulation
strategies that students use spontaneously or can learn
to use to enhance their motivation in the goal-setting
stage. Sansone and colleagues (e.g., Sansone & Smith,
2000) described a variety of avenues by which students
may purposely enhance their interest and hold it during
the pursuit of relatively uninteresting but important
activities. One of these motivation strategies is self-
consequating. This motivation strategy refers to stu-
dents attempts to anticipate the extrinsic consequences
for their engagement or lack of engagement (Purdie &
Hattie, 1996). An example of a self-consequating strat-
egy that students use was provided by one of the teach-
ers in our Partnership Program. One of her students
said, I prefer to use paraphrasing a paragraph in my
own words as a memory strategy, but you give prefer-
ence to writing down your own comprehension ques-
tions and answering them. I guess you will check
whether we are studying your way, so I better start prac-
ticing this comprehension question technique. Evi-
dence that students use self-consequating motivation
strategies was found in children of different ages and
different cultures (see Wolters & Rosenthal, 2000).
A second type of motivation strategy described in the
literature is environmental control (Xu, 2004). This mo-
tivation strategy refers to students skill at arranging
their surroundings in such a way that it is easier to com-
plete the task without interruption (e.g., switching off
the television before starting homework). A third type
of motivation regulation strategy is interest or value
enhancement (Boekaerts, 2002b; Sansone & Harack-
iewicz, 1996). This refers to students ability to make a
task more enjoyable or more situationally interesting to
complete. For example, students may vary their seating
position when doing their homework, facing the door
when they do their math homework and facing the map
of Great Britain with photographs of the school trip to
England while doing their language homework.
Goal-Striving Processes. When students arrive on
the other side of the river, their learning intention is
firmly in place and a volitional state of mind takes over.
Gollwitzer (1999) referred to this state as an implemen-
tation mind-set. As the goal-striving process begins, the
focus is on the best way to implement the goal, meaning
that the necessary learning strategies are set in motion
and that students need to have ready access to volitional
strategies to protect their intention from competing ac-
tion tendencies. I will come back to the volitional strate-
gies that students use in the goal-striving stage in the
next part of the chapter.
Summary
The main conclusion that can be drawn on the basis of
the reviewed literature on the self-regulation of motiva-
tion is that students who act on their felt needs, values,
and longer-lasting interests self-regulate their motiva-
tion for learning automatically; their self-regulation is
primed by their higher-order goals. In contrast, stu-
dents, who do not attach value to an action or are not in-
terested in a topic are not motivated to engage in the
learning activity. These students have two main options.
Their first option is to deliberately target their own cog-
nitions, feelings, and actions in order to infuse value
into the current learning task. I briefly described moti-
vation strategies that students use to infuse value in
learning tasks, and I referred to the interest-enhancing
strategies that they use during the pursuit of relatively
uninteresting but important activities. The second op-
tion is that they change the learning situation in such a
way that it is brought in line with their own values, in-
terests, and needs. For example, they can ask the teacher
whether they are allowed to refocus their composition
or their paper on a related issue that they are more inter-
ested in. Both these options refer to nonprimed decision
making and thus may require conscious effort on the
part of the student.
Bargh and Gollwitzer (1994) made an explicit dis-
tinction between deliberate self-regulation efforts and
self-regulation that seems to take place with little think-
ing or effort on the part of the individual. They showed,
for example, that performing a well-learned skill or an
inherently interesting activity is initiated and main-
tained by processes that occur beneath the level of con-
scious awareness. In the next section, I focus on the role
of conscious effort in the learning process, addressing
volitional forms of self-regulation.
Self-Regulation of Effort
It is actually strange that we do not have a comprehen-
sive theory of effort regulation that can guide interven-
tions in the classroom, despite the well-established
value of the construct for understanding student behav-
Self-Regulation of Motivation 357
ior and the practical applications it might engender. Rea-
sons for the unpopularity of effort research might be
traced to only a few factors. There is no evidence that
effort is a cognitive construct, a common metric to mea-
sure effort is missing, and our models of self-regulated
learning are not well equipped to study effort as it re-
veals itself in real time.
What Is Effort?
A first question that should be raised is What is effort?
Is it a cognitive construct, or is it the emergent result of
a constellation of properties of the learning task? If the
latter is the case, what are the properties from which ef-
fort emerges? For example, do students take stock only
of the time spent doing a task, or do they also take ac-
count of the number of (in)correct responses that they
have generated so far? How do students conceptualize
an effortless and an effortful accomplishment, and what
are their ideas about hard work? To date, these questions
remain largely unanswered. In my opinion, researchers
have not capitalized on the potential of effort for theory
building and practice.
There are several problems with the definitions, op-
erationalizations, and assessment instruments that have
been used in relation to this construct. The definitions
vary, and it is not at all clear how the different con-
structs that are used in the literature, such as (emo-
tional, cognitive, and behavioral forms of ) engagement,
effort investment, effort allocation, persistence, and
perseverance, are related to self-regulation. For exam-
ple, in their review on school engagement, Fredricks
et al. (2004) defined effort as an aspect of behavioral en-
gagement. Clearly, effort should be defined in relation
to engagement, but its characteristic features should be
operationalized in such a way that it adds to the explana-
tory power of the larger system of self-regulation.
Developmental psychologist Bloom and colleagues
(e.g., Bloom & Beckwith, 1989; Bloom & Turner,
2001) argued that, from a developmental perspective,
engagement is distinct from effort. They explained that
engagement provides the motivation (energy) and di-
rectedness for development and effort ensures that
this process goes forward. Children who are already
engaged in a learning activity mayconsciously or un-
consciouslyincrease or decrease their level of en-
gagement by investing more energy or time in the
activity. The former decision refers to the intensity of
effort and the latter to the duration of effort (persis-
tence). Bloom and Turner further explained that en-
gagement and effort are two opposing principles that
operate with an essential tension between them. In line
with Kuhns (1977) theorizing about theory emer-
gence, these researchers hypothesized that develop-
mental change in a domain is not simply quantitative or
cumulative. For example, children do not become more
proficient in understanding and expressing verbal mes-
sages by adding up words and sentences.
Bloom and Turner (2001) showed that very young
children (13 to 24 months) want to talk about the things
that interest them. However, toddlers often find that
they cannot accommodate new experiences because
their language skills are insufficient. At such a point,
they use emotional expression to get their message
across, such as pointing, shouting, hitting, and crying.
These researchers showed that developmental change in
language acquisition is the result of ef fort invested in
experiencing and working through a succession of ten-
sions between the old (e.g., what the child already
can express in one-word sentences and emotional ex-
pressions) and the new (using syntax). Blooms theoriz-
ing can also explain Thalias behavior. She knew that it
would be hard to acquire the going-alone-to-the-
bathroom skill in a short period of time, but she was pre-
pared to go through a succession of tensions to acquire
it. Bloom and Turners (2001) explanation can also be
extended to include learning new skills in formal learn-
ing contexts, as I illustrate later in the discussion.
In educational psychology, researchers have adopted
a multidimensional view of effort. For example, Wein-
ert, Schrader, and Helmke (1989) have separated qual-
itative effort from quantitative effort, and Salomon
and Perkins (1989) separated mindful effort from
mindless effort. Weinert et al. distinguished between
time spent (quantitative effort) and the type of cogni-
tive strategies used (qualitative effort) and found that
these different types of effort affected mathematics
performance differentially in 10- to 12-year-old stu-
dents. They found that students who had high scores on
indices of mathematics ability (measured as either
scores on the pretest or their self-concept of mathemat-
ics ability at the start of the study) spent high qualita-
tive effort, and this in turn had a positive effect
on their math achievement measured 2 years later. In
contrast, students who scored low on indices of mathe-
matics ability at the start of the study spent more quan-
titative effort, and this led to more anxiety, and in turn,
358 Self-Regulation and Ef fort Investment
to low math achievement. Notably, all students invested
effort, but not every type of effort produced learning.
What Assessment Instruments Have Been Used?
A second question concerns the validity of the assess-
ment instruments that are used to measure quantitative
and qualitative effort. Researchers have tried to measure
effort quantitatively by using various indices of mental
effort and processing load. Some researchers measured
the number and duration of responses required to solve a
problem, others measured students time on task, and
still others used physiological measures to assess ongoing
mental activity (for a review, see Eisenberger, 1992).
Kahnman (1973) argued that the total energy that can be
exerted at any point in time is limited. Accordingly, it
was proposed that dual task performance or multitasking
increases processing load relative to single task perfor-
mance. To the extent that these concurrent activities re-
quire attention and tap into the same pool of resources,
they compete for processing capacity and tend to inter-
fere with one another (Bloom & Turner, 2001; Case,
1992). This explains why low-achieving, less knowledge-
able, or less skilled students often experience a feeling of
dif ficulty and report having to invest high levels of effort
into a task. I come back to this issue later.
How sound are the instruments we use to measure
the effort that students invest in the classroom? Most
researchers have used self-report instruments. Open-
ended self-report measures ask respondents to tell in
their own words how much effort they invested in a task,
their homework, or exam preparation. Content analyses
of the responses allow the researcher to quantify the
level of effort reported by students who worked on the
same task. An issue that complicates measurement when
using narratives is that students may report effort in an
unspecified way and there is no way of comparing their
reported effort. Consider a teachers or researchers
problem in interpreting the narrative of two students:
Sarah says, I spent the whole weekend preparing for
this exam and I am totally exhausted. I really need a
break. Howard says, I studied real hard during the
weekend and did my best to understand all the mate-
rial. Judging from what these students reported, they
each invested considerable time in exam preparation, but
do these statements necessarily imply that the quality of
the invested effort was high?
Self-report questionnaires of the Likert variety
may give the impression that the assessment of effort is
less problematic; they consist of a series of items that re-
quire respondents to reflect on the effort expended and
then indicate on 4-, 5-, or 7-point Likert scales what
level of effort fits their perception of the energy in-
vested in a task or activity (e.g., I invested little effort,
some effort, considerable effort, and great effort ). The
alternatives provided in most scales seem straightfor-
ward and easy to use, and they are rarely questioned
psychometrically. Yet, one should ask what the exact
meaning of the alternatives is for each respondent. What
does little effort mean? Is it really less than some ef-
fort ? How wide is the gap between some effort and
considerable effort ? Are students aware of the amount
of effort they have invested? What metric do they use to
communicate to others what the level of invested effort
was? Kruger, Wirtz, Van Boven, and Altermatt (2004)
found that individuals use an effort heuristic to judge
the quality of a performance. Students seem to believe
that the more (alleged) time somebody had invested in
his or her performance, the better the product is. These
researchers also found that the influence of students
perceived effort on their judgment of quality was big-
ger when the ambiguity of the outcome was high.
An issue that further complicates matters is that effort
investment is not a linear process; for example, Howard
and Sarah might have set themselves a rather general
study goal and allocated effort quasi-automatically on
Saturday morning, but they may have specified the goal
further and revised their level of effort as the weekend
progressed. For instance, Sarahs narrative informed us
that, initially, she was satisfied with getting a B with rea-
sonable effort. Feedback regarding time needed to work
through the material indicated to Sarah that she could
easily get an A if she strained herself a little more and
did all the provided exercises as well. The favorable time
feedback triggered a new aspiration level, prompting
Sarah to add some effort that she might not normally have
invested. In contrast, Howard started off with an A aspi-
ration, working really hard on Saturday but scaling back
on Sunday when he realized that it was next to impossible
to cover all the study material and do all the exercises be-
fore Monday morning.
My argument is that these students may have started
out with a specific idea of how much effort they were
going to invest, changing the intensity and duration of
their effort depending on certain characteristics of the
task or the learning process. In other words, it is diffi-
cult to capture the dynamic quality of effort regulation
during the goal-striving process. What is needed is a
measurement instrument that can register the changing
Current Knowledge about Students Ef fort Beliefs 359
levels of effort over time. To do that we need to establish
an idiographic metric (Austin & Vancouver, 1996)
that students can use to register and report on their
changing effort levels during the different stages of
exam preparation, goal pursuit, or a course. Idiographic
measures facilitate within-person comparisons across
time and subject matter areas but are problematic for
comparisons across individuals. Future research on ef-
fort should address two dynamic aspects of the self-
regulation of effort: how effort is allocated initially, and
how it is maintained during the goal-striving stage.
CURRENT KNOWLEDGE ABOUT
STUDENTS EFFORT
In this section, I summarize what is currently known
about students effort beliefs and how these beliefs may
influence increases and decreases in effort.
Students Theory of Effort
Developmental psychologists have examined students
theory of effort. For example, Dweck (2003) deduced
from her longitudinal research that to engage actively
and constructively in a domain and overcome obstacles,
children need to have access to a coherent network of be-
liefs, a meaning system in which they can integrate
emerging new ideas and inject them with motivational
value. An increasing body of knowledge endorses this
view. In the early years of schooling, children seem
to draw on isolated pieces of knowledge to interpret
learning tasks and activities. Several researchers (e.g.,
Dweck, 1991, 1998; Nicholls, 1984; Paris, Byrnes, &
Alison, 2001) showed that young children have fragmen-
tary ideas about what good work is and what it takes to
achieve it. They do not differentiate between ability and
effort, believing that everybody who puts in effort will
perform well.
Paris et al. (2001) clarified that childrens theory of
effort develops gradually over the middle childhood
years; they unmasked the unrealistic belief that persis-
tence, good work habits, and good conduct are sufficient
to succeed in school, independent of ability. By the age
of 10, children have developed ideas about their ability,
and they begin to understand that ability is an internal
quality that can predict their outcomes (Stipek &
Daniels, 1990). They have also come to realize that put-
ting in effort cannot compensate for low ability. An in-
teresting finding reported by Dweck and her colleagues
was that, in the early school years, children may realize
that they have not done well on a task and certainly per-
formed worse than their peers. However, these unfavor-
able beliefs neither decreased interest nor elicited
avoidance behavior, as they do in older children (Butler,
1992). Dweck (2003) argued that the reason why unfa-
vorable experiences do not systematically affect actions
in this age group is that their emerging ideas about abil-
ity and effort are not yet integrated into a coherent
meaning system and have, as such, not yet gained consis-
tent motivational value.
Dweck and her colleagues (e.g., Cain & Dweck,
1995) were also able to demonstrate that, between the
ages of 10 and 12 years, children seem to have access
to a theory of intelligence that reflects either an incre-
mental view of intelligence or an entity view. A well-
established line of research links the two theories of in-
telligence to goal orientation; the incremental view of
intelligence is consistently linked to task orientation,
whereas the entity view is linked to performance orien-
tation (Pintrich, 2003). Blackwell, Dweck, and Trzes-
niewski (2002) found that at about the transition to
middle school (12 to 13 years), childrens ideas about
ability and effort come together in a network of motiva-
tional beliefs around their theory of intelligence and
begin to show their impact on the goals they want to
achieve and their academic behavior. Based on her lon-
gitudinal studies with freshmen in junior high school,
Dweck (2003) outlined how children build their motiva-
tional meaning system around their theory of intelli-
gence: Children who have built their meaning system
around an incremental conception of intelligence focus
on improvement and attainment. They view effort as
instrumental to improvement and as a sign of involve-
ment and commitment. These children have no problem
admitting that they invested effort, even when their per-
formance is (still) poor or when the teacher gives unfa-
vorable feedback on their performance. They interpret
errors and setbacks as a signal that more time (duration)
and energy (intensity) is needed to increase compe-
tence; thus, persisting in the face of hardship, strategiz-
ing, and asking for help when necessary comes naturally
(J. C. Turner & Meyer, 1999).
Conditional Knowledge Is Necessary for the
Self-Regulation of Effort
In one of our own studies (Boekaerts, Otten, & Voeten,
2003), we found that students activated effort and
360 Self-Regulation and Ef fort Investment
ability beliefs led them to refrain from seeking control
through effort in some domains at the benefit of gain-
ing control in other domains. We asked freshmen in
junior high school to indicate how much time they spent
preparing for three regular end-of-term exams: history,
mathematics, and text processing in their native lan-
guage. We also examined their attribution processes of
the exam results. Students seldom used effort as an ex-
planation for failure in any of the school subjects stud-
ied, but they used it as the dominant factor to explain
success in history (average preparation time = 120
minutes), in combination with level of difficulty in
mathematics (average preparation time = 60 minutes),
and not at all in relation to text processing (preparation
time = 10 minutes). Based on these results, Boekaerts
et al. suggested that students willingness to invest time
and effort in the acquisition of new skills is determined
to a large extent by precoded information about subject
matter-specific task demands and about their per-
ceived capacity to meet these demands. This knowl-
edge is akin to the metacognitive knowledge that I have
discussed previously and is propaedeutic for the self-
regulation of effort in a domain.
From the current research on effort and persistence it
is gradually becoming clear that the best predictor
of students self-regulation of effort is conditional
knowledge. Kuhl and Kraska (1989) showed that the
knowledge that elementary school children had about the
obstacles they might encounter during goal pursuit
and the way to deal with these obstacles effectively
predicted the intensity of their effort. In a similar
vein, Efklides, Papadaki, Papantoniou, and Kiosseoglou
(1999) reported that high school students who lacked
metacognitive knowledge to interpret strategy failure in
a specific domain could not decide whether or not it was
worthwhile to invest further effort. These investigators
showed that students who can act on their feelings of
difficulty regulate their actions more effectively. In
other words, knowing what effort entails in relation to
different tasks and when it is needed is conditional
to students self-regulation of effort. Students also need
to be aware of the strategies that are effective to in-
crease or decrease effort, and they need knowledge of
the contexts in which these strategies will be effective.
The tendency to increase effort when needed and to
maintain it despite distracters and obstacles refers to
students volitional competence. Volition is one of the
most crucial factors of self-regulation; it is the main
topic in our next section.
Promoting Volitional Strategies in the Service
of Attaining Learning Goals
Many studies have examined how cues in the learning
environment interact with students felt needs to in-
crease or decrease their active engagement (e.g., Con-
nell, 1990; Skinner & Belmont, 1993); some researchers
focused explicitly on how instruction strategies and task
characteristics promote or inhibit participation and per-
sistence. It is clear that many common educational prac-
tices actually reduce students intrinsic interest in
academic learning (Corno & Randi, 1999; McCombs &
Pope, 1994). Educational practices that decrease stu-
dents sense making, particularly in disadvantaged stu-
dents, include a focus on evaluations and grading,
normative and relative grading, creating competition
between students, public announcements of grades, re-
tention, and acceptance of dropping out. Hickey and
McCaslin (2001) argued that engagement in learning is
enhanced when obstacles to intrinsic sense making are
removed and intrinsic sense making is provoked. Over
the years, several suggestions have been formulated for
teachers to promote intrinsic sense making and persis-
tence in the classroom. Before I look more closely at
these suggestions, I try to answer the question What are
volitional strategies?
Development of Volitional Competence
Volitional strategies are aspects of self-management;
they refer to persistence, perseverance, and buckling
down to work. Corno (1994) defined these strategies as
students tendency to maintain focus and effort toward
their goals despite potential distractions. When do stu-
dents need volitional strategies in the classroom? Many
students experience difficulty getting started on an as-
signment or homework task. They may also get dis-
tracted while working on an assignment, for example,
when they meet with obstacles or are sidetracked by
competing goals (e.g., a telephone call, a program that
starts on television, or a noise in the street). Corno re-
ported that weaker students experience difficulty in im-
plementing what she called good work habits that
protect their intentions, particularly when difficult
work must be completed. She argued that these students
would benefit from instructions in good work habits.
She listed several good work habits, including how to
set goals and subgoals, how to prioritize goals, how to
organize ones work, how to make a time schedule, how
Current Knowledge about Students Ef fort Beliefs 361
to stick to that schedule, how to determine the time
needed to do various assignments, and how to monitor
time spent.
Are there specific situations in which students need
volitional strategies? Boekaerts (2002a) and Corno
(2001) formulated a number of hypothetical situations
in which students need to control their learning environ-
ment. Examples are situations where there is a lot of
noise in the classroom or where students would prefer to
work on another task or with another person. There are
also situations where students show a lot of anxiety,
anger, irritation, or frustration that obstructs or inter-
feres with their intention to take actions. Indeed, some
learning situations may be tedious and boring, requiring
a lot of willpower to stay focused on task. Other learn-
ing situations are complex and taxing and students
might realize that they will meet many obstacles and
will have to invest a great deal of effort to finish the as-
signment. I come back to the phenomenological experi-
ence of felt difficulty later in this section.
There are also a great number of learning situations
that pose problems to students intention to stay on track
because competing goals catch their interest or concern.
Hijzen, Boekaerts, and Vedder (2004) described social
learning situations, where students in the group show
various forms of low effort, such as preferring to chat
instead of working with their peers, taking advantage of
other students work, skip meetings, and, generally,
being unreliable about following up on work arrange-
ments (see also Dowson & McInerney, 2001; Wentzel,
1991a, 1991b).
A question raised by educational psychologists as
teachers alike is this: Are volitional strategies trainable?
Kuhl and his colleagues (Kuhl, 1985, 2000; Kuhl &
Fuhrman, 1998; Kuhl & Kraska, 1989) convinced educa-
tional psychologists that they are. In fact, volitional
strategies develop from early childhood well into adoles-
cence. What is needed for children to develop these
strategies is a growing awareness of their own function-
ing, including their cognitive, motivational, and affec-
tive functioning. Kuhl and Kraska illustrated that
socialization practices impact the development of voli-
tional strategies in the home, in the peer group, and at
school. Xu (2004) emphasized the importance of parents
and teachers supporting and actively coaching children
to develop willpower. How can teachers assist students in
developing their willpower? Kuhl and his colleagues
(see, e.g., Kuhl, 2000) proposed that the best way to train
volitional strategies is in an interactive partnership,
where pairs of individuals work together and construc-
tively react to each others attempts at self-regulation,
highlighting those aspects of goal pursuit that still pose
problems for sustained effort. Several educational psy-
chologists (Boekaerts, 1997, 1999; Boekaerts & Simons,
1995; Corno, 1994, 2001, 2004; Lemos, 2002; Perry,
1998; Xu, 2004; Xu & Corno, 1999) provided guidelines
for teachers to enhance students volitional strategies. A
recommendation given to teachers and parents is to
model volitional strategies and to discuss their effective-
ness with students. In the next section, I take a closer
look at the contextual factors that promote the self-
regulation of effort.
Contextual Factors Impede or Promote Self-
Regulation of Effort
Vygotsky (1978) described how adults can help young
children to promote intrinsic sense making by helping
them to form and retrieve mental images of an action
plan (see my example of Thalia). Zimmerman (1998,
2000) reported the beneficial effects of parents, peers,
and teachers who modeled self-regulation skills and
encouraged children of all ages to copy their behavior.
Zimmerman, Bandura, and Martinez-Pons (1992) de-
scribed in detail how parents can function as explicit
and implicit role models when they want their children
to acquire a new competency. There is ample evidence
that observational learning has a positive effect on chil-
drens and adolescents learning as well as on their per-
sistence when a task proves to be difficult. Adolescents
who observed peer models persist on a difficult task
showed increased self-efficacy, persisted longer on sim-
ilar tasks, and improved their problem-solving skills
(Martinez-Pons, 1996; Schunk & Zimmerman, 1998).
Students Need to Pick Up Environmental Cues
Increasingly, researchers advise teachers to interact
with their students on the work floor, inviting them to
monitor their actions and reflect on their attempts to
self-regulate their effort while they work. Boekaerts
(2002b) and Boekaerts and Simons (1995) described
the monitoring instructions that teachers could give
their students to build conditional knowledge about the
intensity and duration of effort that is required to com-
plete different types of assignments and about effective
ways to see that the effort is maintained when the
task becomes boring or difficult. Such monitoring in-
structions, as well as the recording of the volitional
362 Self-Regulation and Ef fort Investment
strategies that were undertaken, will make students
aware of the situations where volitional strategies are
in order and the environmental cues that will tell them
whether they have to maintain effort or can discontinue
it. Consider the following:
Case Example
Anne Marie is a 16-year-old who wants to become a lan-
guage teacher. She is well aware that it takes effort to
acquire a foreign language at a native speaker level. Her
attempts at self-regulation inform her mother that she is
willing to invest all the effort it takes to reach her goal.
For example, when her mother asked her how much time
she still needed to finish her homework, she replied, I
will go on practicing until I can read this French text
flawlessly. I will first isolate all the words that I have
difficulty with and practice them. Then, I will underline
them in the text so that I can see them come up in the
corner of my eye while reading.
This example shows that Anne Marie has set herself a
purpose and a target goal. These goals allow her to fol-
low the scripts she has specified beforehand, picking up
cues in relation to her progress. Oettingen, Honig, and
Gollwitzer (2000) and Corno (2004) showed that when
such scripts have been put firmly in place before students
need to use themin action, they can easily be activated at
the time of use, thus acting as conditional knowledge.
Scripts to Deal with Distracters
Corno (1994) emphasized the key role of environmental
cues, particularly distracters, in triggering the use of vo-
litional strategies. She advised teachers to have their
students draw up a list of possible distracters when
studying and categorize them as to where and when they
occur. She further suggested that teachers make an
inventory of how their students deal with these dis-
tracters, comparing the volitional strategies they use
and asking students to evaluate how well they worked.
This procedure allows teachers to discuss the volitional
strategies that their students have marked as effective
and ineffective with the whole class and ask the stu-
dents to explain why they thought these strategies were
(in)effective to deal with a particular distracter. For ex-
ample, Anne Marie told the class that she had dealt suc-
cessfully with a distracter in the library. She said,
When I realized that I could not find the necessary re-
source material for my paper in the library because
other students pressured me to hurry up and vacate the
computer, I told them that they would have to wait much
longer if they kept bothering me. They took the hint and
went for coffee. Students might even model effective
ways to deal with distracters while role-playing these
strategies. As a follow-up on Anne Maries statement,
they could practice effective ways to tell students to stop
bullying their peers.
In my own intervention program with students in vo-
cational education, I found that teachers who invite their
students regularly to note down effective volitional
strategies create a classroom environment where stu-
dents enjoy discussing their own functioning in the
classroom. One of the teachers even asked her students
to write their effective volitional strategies on a poster
and illustrate them with visual cues. This nicely deco-
rated poster was put up on the wall in the classroom and
students enjoyed adding new volitional strategies to the
list. At a certain point, the teacher invited her students
to consult the poster and pick out one or more volitional
strategies that they thought appropriate in the situation
they found themselves in. In this way, she coached them
to build their conditional knowledge of the type of voli-
tional strategies that are effective in specific contexts,
using the information displayed on the poster. After a
while, the students called the poster Tommy and rec-
ommended that their peers spontaneously Ask Tommy
when one of them expressed doubts as to what to do in a
difficult situation.
How Do Contextual Factors Interact with
Self-Regulation?
Several intervention programs are currently being set up
with students of different ages, and promising results
have been reported. I will not describe these ongoing in-
tervention programs. The interested reader is referred to
Boekaerts and Corno (2005) and to the special issue on
volitional strategies in a special issue of Teacher College
Record (Corno, 2004). I do make one exception, because
I want to draw the readers attention to a group of re-
searchers who started to use a wide variety of recording
techniques to study in detail (a) the self-regulation
strategies that students of various age groups actually
use to achieve their learning goals and ( b) how contex-
tual factors interact with students attempts at self-
regulation (e.g., Perry & Vandekamp, 2000; Stipek
et al., 1998; J. C. Turner & Meyer, 1999). The recording
techniques that this group of researchers used included
Current Knowledge about Students Ef fort Beliefs 363
observations, interviews, stimulated recall, recording
students motivation strategies as they work, self-
reports, traces of mental events and processes, and keep-
ing diaries.
Various aspects of the classroom environment seem
to contribute to the emergence of self-regulatory skills,
such as the types of assignments that the children had to
work on, whether or not they had a choice, the type of
instructions that were provided, the quality of the
student-teacher interactions, and the type of assessment
and evaluation procedures that were used. In one of
these studies, Perry and her colleagues (Perry, 1998;
Perry, Vandekamp, Mercer, & Nordby, 2002) showed
that second- and third-grade students engaged construc-
tively in complex writing activities provided their teach-
ers used ongoing assessment, challenging them to make
progress without threatening their self-efficacy. All the
students who worked with teachers who coached their
self-regulation skills demonstrated high self-regulation;
they tried to manage all aspects of the writing process
independently and flexibly. These students monitored
their writing progress in productive ways and self-
assessed their performance. Interestingly, when these
students met with obstacles, they sought social support
from their peers and teachers, andremarkablyeven
the low-achieving students in these classrooms showed
high self-efficacy for learning and did not avoid chal-
lenging tasks.
Second and third graders who had traditional teach-
ers showed different behavior; they avoided challenging
tasks and depended on their teachers for feedback and
assessment. In fact, these students demonstrated vari-
ous forms of bottom-up self-regulation, including hiding
their work, reducing effort, avoiding different forms of
external regulation, and procrastination. What have we
learned from this and related studies about effective
ways to promote students volitional strategies? The
variety of recording techniques used in these studies al-
lows researchers to pinpoint those instructional tech-
niques that foster intrinsic sense making and top-down
self-regulation and contrast them to instructional tech-
niques that promote various forms of bottom-up self-
regulation and impede the self-regulation of effort. This
information is of high theoretical and practical impor-
tance and can be used to design intervention programs
to help teachers promote the self-regulation of motiva-
tion and effort in their students.
In the previous pages, I have concentrated on the
volitional strategies that students need when they en-
counter distracters that draw their attention away from
the task at hand. I have also discussed some techniques
that teachers might use to help their students buckle
down to work. There is also another category of situa-
tions that calls for the self-regulation of effort, namely,
learning situations where students meet with obstacles
en route to the goal. These situations are the next focus
of attention.
Interpreting the Phenomenological Experience
of Felt Difficulty
Why are some students successful in overcoming obsta-
cles and difficulties to ensure the attainment of aca-
demic goals and other students are not? Perhaps one of
the greatest barriers to students volitional control is that
they do not have easy access to volitional strategies when
they encounter obstacles en route to the goal. These stu-
dents need external regulation and a great deal of scaf-
folding to finish the task, mainly because they do not
know how to deal with the phenomenological experience
of felt difficulty. Experiencing a feeling of difficulty
during goal pursuit may imply several things. It may sim-
ply mean that students have met with obstacles of some
sort that they had not anticipated and that they need to
find their way around them. It may also imply that they
are aware that they do not have ready access to cognitive
and metacognitive strategies to go around the obstacle
and that this awareness causes worries, low expecta-
tions, and self-doubt (see also Covington, 2004). My ar-
gument is that obstacles en route to the goal and the
concomitant feeling of difficulty act for some students
as a signal that more effort is temporarily needed to self-
regulate the learning process (see also Zimmerman,
2000). In others, a feeling of difficulty may elicit nega-
tive emotions, thereby forcing students to change their
appraisal of the task and of the self in relation to the task.
I have suggested elsewhere (e.g., Boekaerts, 1999)
that students who are willing to increase the intensity
and duration of effort when they meet with obstacles
have a good chance of remaining on the growth pathway.
In contrast, students who experience negative emotions
when breakdowns or setbacks occur may tend to con-
clude prematurely that they are unable to reroute activ-
ity from the well-being pathway to the growth pathway
because their phenomenological experience inhibits
them from dealing with the obstacles in an effective
way. They want to attend promptly to an immediate and
urgent need to restore their well-being by disengaging
364 Self-Regulation and Ef fort Investment
temporarily or permanently from the task. These stu-
dents may come back to the task later on, but in a
smaller way (e.g., by scaling down). Redefining the ef-
fort that is needed to perform a task or activity can be
seen in Figure 9.1 by following the dotted line connect-
ing the growth pathway with the well-being pathway
(marked 1) in combination with the line (marked 2) that
leads the student back to the growth pathway.
Clearly, insight into the cognitions and feelings that
students experience when they meet with obstacles,
setbacks, breakdowns, and strategy failures is essential
to help them self-regulate their effort when they meet
with obstacles. Several researchers described what actu-
ally happens when individuals experience a feeling of
difficulty during goal pursuit (e.g., P. A. Alexander,
Graham, & Harris, 1998; Carver & Scheier, 1981, 1998,
2000; Efklides et al., 1999; Winne, 1995). These ac-
counts can roughly be subdivided into affectively
charged insights and metacognitively oriented insights.
I discuss each in turn.
Experience of Difficulty: Low Confidence
and Doubt
Two social psychologists Carver and Scheier (1981) the-
orized that effort reflects both the presence of a goal
and awareness of how one is doing relative to standards.
For example, Anne Marie told her mother that she would
keep practicing till she could read the text flawlessly.
Hence, she set herself a high standard, implying that she
had a clear purpose and expectancy as well as a ready
script to attain the goal. As argued previously, expectan-
cies have a profound influence on motivation, whatever
their source. Individuals generate expectancies about
the outcome of their actions as they work, and these ex-
pectancies (confidence or doubt) influence the effort
they are prepared to invest. Individuals who have experi-
enced obstacles in relation to an activity (domain) in the
past may interrupt their efforts periodically to assess in
a more thoughtful way than occurs while acting the like-
lihood of a successful outcome. This assessment pre-
sumably depends to a large extent on their prior learning
history in relation to the activity, on their knowledge
about the reasons why these obstacles occur, and on
their anticipation of the additional resources they might
need to overcome the problem.
Carver and Scheier (1998) showed that college stu-
dents invest effort and renew effort investment provided
expectancies for a successful outcome are sufficiently
favorable. If doubts are strong enough, individuals are
inclined to disengage from further effort and even from
the goal itself. Disengagement may take the form of
overt or covert avoidance behavior. Examples of the for-
mer type of avoidance are various forms of giving up,
such as quitting the situation, dropping a course, and
redirecting ones actions. Illustrations of covert avoid-
ance are daydreaming, wishful thinking, and denying
the importance of a goal. Note that these are examples
of what I previously labeled emotion-focused coping or
bottom-up self-regulation.
Wrosch, Scheier, Carver, and Schultz (2003) main-
tained that disengagement requires a person to withdraw
not only effort but also commitment from unattainable
goals. They showed that disengagement can be benefi-
cial to well-being and is most adaptive if the person en-
gages in other meaningful activities. The scaling back
phenomenon described by Carver and Scheier (1998)
and illustrated in Howards example is a form of partial
disengagement. When scaling back, students have in fact
given up on the initial goal (e.g., an A grade) while si-
multaneously substituting it with a more manageable
goal. Scaling back is a way to stay in the situation in a
meaningful way, even though in a smaller way than orig-
inally planned. Students who scale back perceive prog-
ress toward an important goal and experience positive
affect and confidence, two important ingredients of ef-
fortful accomplishment.
An interesting question is this: What makes an indi-
vidual decide that investing more effort (persistence) is
to no avail and that he or she needs to reduce effort,
delay, or give up? Several researchers referred to a point
in time when an individual considers effort as fruitless
and stops trying. They conceptualized this discontinuity
between engagement effort and giving up as a perceived
shift in difficulty level (e.g., Efklides et al., 1999) or as
perceived loss of control (Schwarzer, Jerusalem, & Stik-
srud, 1984). Based on insights from their own research,
Carver and Scheier (2000) reconceptualized the point of
discontinuity as a region of discontinuity. This region
marks the range of tasks where task demands are close
to the individuals limits of performance. In this region,
there is a greater variability in observed patterns of en-
gagement effort. Carver and Scheier posited that a
person might enter this region from two different direc-
tions, leading to different predictions. Individuals who
starts out confident but meet many obstacles on their
Current Knowledge about Students Ef fort Beliefs 365
way to the goal will continue to invest effort, even if sit-
uational cues imply less and less basis for confidence.
By contrast, individuals who enter the region of discon-
tinuity from the low confidence direction but perceive
environmental cues indicating otherwise will continue
with little effort, even when situational cues imply more
and more basis for confidence. Note that Thalia entered
the region of discontinuity from the high confidence di-
rection and continued to invest effort even when she met
with obstacles (e.g., when she lost her balance).
Experience of Difficulty: Taxing
Processing Demands
Winne (1995) provided a metacognitively oriented in-
sight of what happens when students experience a feel-
ing of difficulty. He explained that students who are still
novices in a domain make relatively more errors than
competent learners, mainly because the newly acquired
knowledge has not been proceduralized yet. For exam-
ple, in mathematics, students may regress to number
crunching when they have difficulty detecting the key
words in a word problem that inform them what type
of algorithm they have to apply. A request often made
to these students is that they have to monitor cues that
prevent errors from occurring. However, the monitoring
processes that are relevant in the new domain may
not have automated yet, meaning that the monitoring
process heavily taxes the students limited attentional
resources and working memory capacity. Two social
psychologists, Kanfer and Ackerman (1989), neatly
showed that fewer cognitive resources are needed to run
a proceduralized skill than to perform multiple accesses
of propositions strung together in a declaratively en-
coded rule. They explained that once the transformation
from declarative knowledge to proceduralized skills has
taken place, which occurred in their experiment around
the seventh trial, individuals were able to shift their cog-
nitive resources from the learning process per se (i.e.,
proceduralizing the new skill) to the regulation of the
learning process.
These and similar experiments show that the perfor-
mance of novices will be disrupted by increasing
processing demands, simply because novices have a
fragmentary, poorly integrated domain of knowledge
and do not yet perform many subprocesses on automatic
pilot. P. A. Alexander et al. (1998) shed some light on
this issue. They described the multiple stages of exper-
tise development in a domain and reported that students
from different types and levels of education proceed
through three successive stages of skill development: ac-
climation, competence, and expertise/proficiency. Dur-
ing the acclimation stage, individuals have limited and
quite fragmented knowledge of the domain, and they ba-
sically use shallow information processing. During the
competence stage, students domain knowledge becomes
more coherent, and they start building up knowledge
about the obstacles that might occur during task perfor-
mance and about various ways to deal with obstacles
(metacognitive or conditional knowledge). In the profi-
ciency stage, individuals express personal interest in a
domain and have access to a rich and principled knowl-
edge base in which a large repertoire of (meta)cognitive
strategies is stored as well as metacognitive knowledge
about the context in which these strategies are effective.
A great deal of information is currently available about
how experts in a domain self-regulate the acquisition of
new knowledge by selecting, combining, and coordinat-
ing cognitive and metacognitive strategies in functions
of their reading and writing goals and the perceived
contextual cues (e.g., P. A. Alexander, 2003; Pressley,
1995). Zimmerman (1998) listed the volitional strate-
gies that experts in different disciplines (i.e., students,
writers, athletes, musicians) use to stay on track. Czik-
szentmihalyi (1990) described the all-engrossing task
engagement of proficient learners. Like experts, profi-
cient learners experience flow, which is characterized
by positive affect and a feeling of being lost in time.
This timeless experience might explain why expert
learners have recollection of an ef fortless performance
(i.e., they report low effort despite high-quality deep-
level processing).
In contrast to these experts, novices may have recol-
lections of effortful performance despite poor results.
Alexander, Graham, and Harris (1998) characterized ef-
fortful processors as students who perform adequately in
the early years of schooling, in part because they are
goal-directed and are prepared to expend high levels of
strategic effort in the pursuit of understanding or com-
mendable performance, even despite limited topic knowl-
edge and when facing obstacles. These students are aware
that they need to invest a lot of effort in their schoolwork
and are willing to do so, provided the teacher provides a
great deal of scaffolding. Nevertheless, effortful proces-
sors seem to have difficulty building a rich and coherent
knowledge base in which declarative, procedural, and
366 Self-Regulation and Ef fort Investment
conditional knowledge about a domain are well inte-
grated. They also lack standards against which to monitor
their effort investment. This raises the following ques-
tion: When and why are students willing to invest effort
in their schoolwork?
PROMOTING STUDENTS WILLINGNESS
TO INVEST EFFORT INTO SCHOOL WORK
In the previous three sections, I have reviewed the liter-
ature on the self-regulation of motivation, interest, and
effort. It should be evident from this review that stu-
dents theory of effort, particularly the knowledge they
have about the type of distracters and obstacles that
may occur during a task or activity and how to deal
with distracters and obstacles, is crucial to move the
learning and self-regulation process forward. Based on
the insights provided in the literature, I have formulated
my own working definition of the self-regulation of ef-
fort in the classroom. It refers to the extension of mental
and physical energy over time toward the achievement
of a learning goal based on ones motivation meaning
system and ones perception of the demand-capacity
ratio. In my way of thinking, self-regulation of effort
implies students:
Awareness that a discrepancy may exist between their
current goal state and the desired goal state
Willingness to work through a series of tensions to
reach the desired outcomes
Willingness to interrupt their action plan when dis-
tracters or obstacles occur
Willingness to reflect on the whys of distraction and
strategy failure and on possible ways of dealing with
perceived obstacles and with the emotions they trigger
Willingness to select from their repertoire those
strategies that ensure progress in competence devel-
opment in the present context
This working definition illustrates what is presently
known about the self-regulation of effort. It allows re-
searchers and teachers to concentrate on specific as-
pects of the self-regulation of effort. Next, I provide an
example from my own research program to illustrate
some issues that were raised in the previous sections.
The study that I report on illustrates how difficult it is
to measure and interpret effort in the classroom. I want
to show how theory about the self-regulation of effort
led into practice and how practice led back into theory.
How Taxing Are Processing Demands in
the Classroom?
Payne and colleagues (Payne, Bettman, Coupey, & John-
son, 1992) defined effort involved in the decision-
making process in terms of the mental operations required
to come to an accurate decision, including reading, ana-
lyzing, and making comparisons. The effort a decision
maker has to invest is considered the cost, and the accu-
racy of his or her response is considered the benefit of a
decision-making process. These researchers argued that
individuals adjust their processing mode flexibly to maxi-
mize benefits and minimize costs during decision mak-
ing. Cost-benefit trade-offs account for many findings in
the decision-making literature but have also found their
way into stress research, work psychology, and educa-
tional psychology (e.g., Eisenberger, 1992).
In educational psychology, several researchers
attempted to define and operationalize the mental
operations and the processing load involved in various
learning tasks. For example, Entwistle (1988) sorted text-
processing strategies into two main classes: surface-level
and deep-level processing. He showed that students who
dominantly process information in a text by reading,
skipping unfamiliar words, rereading, and memorizing
use a shallow processing mode, whereas students who
supplement and enrich these processing activities by
structuring the information read and critically relating
ideas and arguments expressed in the text to their own ex-
periences use a deep processing mode. Entwistle assumed
that deep-level processing requires more mental effort
than surface-level processing.
In one of our own studies, we borrowed the cost-
benefit construct from Payne and his colleagues and the
surface-level and deep-level processing distinction from
Entwistle and his colleagues. The question that we set
ourselves was this: Do students adjust their processing
strategies flexibly in order to maximize benefits and
minimize costs while learning? I next briefly describe
this study and then illustrate that several competing
conclusions could be drawn for practice on the basis of
the obtained results.
Training in the Use of Deep-Level
Processing Strategies
During a 6-month training program, teachers explained
to students in vocational school ( between 15 and 18
years old) the benefits of deep-level processing strate-
Promoting Students Willingness to Invest Ef fort into School Work 367
gies for text comprehension and trained them to enrich
their processing activities by structuring information
read and critically relating ideas and arguments ex-
pressed in a text to their own experiences (see Boekaerts
& Minnaert, 2003; Rozendaal, Minnaert, & Boekaerts,
2003). Our hypothesis was that after such a training pro-
gram, motivated students would show an increase in re-
ported deep-level processing strategies and a decrease
in surface-level processing strategies. We expected that
students low on motivation would go on using surface-
level strategies. In addition, we predicted that anxiety
(operationalized as performance and test anxiety) in-
creases the use of surface-level processing and de-
creases deep-level processing. The anxiety hypothesis
was confirmed, but motivation was positively associated
with both types of processing. We also learned from
these data that surface- and deep-level processing are
not the opposite ends of a continuum, as assumed in the
literature, but two distinct processing modes. Inspection
of our data and interviews with students and teachers re-
vealed that some students use both processing modes,
others rely on a dominant mode, and still others are low
on both processing modes. At that point in the data
analysis, we went back to the drawing board and theo-
rized that students cannot select cognitive strategies
flexibly unless they have easy access to both processing
modes; that is, they have a choice of strategy use.
Accordingly, Rozendaal et al. (2003) split up the
available data set into four groups: students who domi-
nantly used surface-level processing (SLP; 10%), deep-
level processing (DLP; 20%), used both DLP and SLP
(50%), and used neither DLP nor SLP (10%). We then
estimated the relationships between motivation, anxi-
ety, and the two processing modes for each group sepa-
rately. We found that motivation and anxiety had a
different effect on the processing modes in the respec-
tive groups. Motivated students tended to make use of
their preferred processing mode(s), and anxiety was in-
versely related to the use of deep-level strategies. Does
that mean that anxious students put more confidence in
their preferential processing strategies, or rather that
they tend to shy away from using the more demanding
deep-level processing strategies, when they perceive the
learning task (environment) as anxiety-provoking? Ob-
servations and interviews with students and teachers
suggested that anxiety and lack of confidence played a
key role in the selection of a processing mode. However,
alternative explanations were also given for the phenom-
enon that students relapsed to surface-level processing
after the training period. Indeed, several theoretical
perspectives have something to say on this issue and in
the following I formulate some testable hypotheses
about students self-regulation of effort.
Willingness to Pay the Cost for the
Anticipated Benefits?
It is important to realize that all students in our study,
whether they used deep- or surface-level processing
strategies or a combination of both, are self-regulating
their effort, using their own theory of effort. To advise
the teachers in the program how to coach their students
self-regulation of effort, it is essential to gain insight
into the underlying mechanism, especially in the groups
that do not use the new strategies consistently. What do
modern theorists have to say about the mechanism that
underlies the increase and decrease of effort?
Willingness to Work through a Series of Tensions
Developmental psychologist Carol Dweck (2003) shed
some light on this issue. She and her colleagues gave
children between 3
1
2 and 5 years old the choice of con-
tinuing with puzzles that they had already solved before
or trying new ones. Thirty-seven percent of the children
opted to redo the puzzles they had already successfully
completed. The main reason they gave the researchers
was that they enjoyed doing these puzzles. By contrast,
children who opted for the new puzzles said that they
wanted to find out whether they could do a harder one.
Interestingly, the children who opted for the new puz-
zles made significantly fewer negative statements about
themselves and their puzzle-solving skills than the chil-
dren who elected to continue with the puzzles for which
they already had the necessary strategies. It is easy to
imagine that for these children, familiar activities cre-
ated less uncertainty and the impression of lower cost.
In line with Bloom and Turners (2001) model of de-
velopmental change in language acquisition, I assume
that the children who opted to do the familiar puzzles
objected to investing ef fort in experiencing and working
through a succession of tensions between the old (e.g.,
the puzzles they already can solve) and the new. Based
on Dwecks and Blooms findings, I suggest that the
driving force for acquiring deep-level processing strate-
gies reflects the essential tension between students cur-
rent engagement experiences (i.e., using surface-level
processing) and their perception of the effort needed to
master and feel comfortable with deep-level processing
368 Self-Regulation and Ef fort Investment
strategies. This essential tension might have occurred
only in those students who were aware that the teacher
invited them to learn how to accommodate experiences
that they could not accommodate yet but considered rel-
evant. In other words, a hypothesis that could be tested
in further studies is that students are willing to invest ef-
fort in learning to process a text using deep-level pro-
cessing strategies only if they truly believe that they
cannot achieve the same result by using already familiar
processing strategies (i.e., surface-level processing
strategies) and are prepared to work through a succes-
sion of tensions to master the new skill and tolerate the
anxiety it produces (i.e., pay the cost).
My dual processing self-regulation model specifies
the role of negative emotions, such as anxiety, in the
self-regulation process. Debilitating thoughts and the
concomitant negative affect create an internal context
for the task or activity and change the task and self-
appraisals. I have explained previously that the infusion
of negative affect into task appraisals alters the stu-
dents perceptions of the task and triggers bottom-up
self-regulation, which may block or attenuate all forms
of volitional control to stay on the growth pathway. Kuhl
(2000) described the characteristic ways that individu-
als who tend to experience negative affect when they
meet with obstacles dwell on anticipated difficulties.
Their processing capacity is overtaxed by questions such
as What if I will not finish reading the text in time? or
What if there are too many words that I will not under-
stand? Boekaerts and Corno (2005) argued that stu-
dents skill in blocking these ruminations as well as the
negative emotions that trigger them (i.e., switch these
lights to red) will help students to reroute from the well-
being pathway to the growth pathway.
Substituting a Feeling Unconfident State with a
Feeling Confident State
A second explanation for the phenomenon we observed
in vocational school relates to what Carver and Scheier
(1998) referred to as the phenomenological experience
of feeling confident about the task. Recall that these
investigators found a greater variability in observed pat-
terns of effort in the region of discontinuity, that is, in
the range of tasks where task demands are close to the
individuals limits of performance. Students who stuck
to surface-level processing despite the training they re-
ceived might have entered this region from the low con-
fidence direction. This would imply that they continue
to use little effort, even when they perceive environmen-
tal cues that indicate that the task is not so difficult. The
scaling back phenomenon described by Carver and
Scheier (1998) might also apply here. The students who
fell back on surface-level processing may have given up
on the initial goal (i.e., process the text using deep-level
processing strategies) while simultaneously substituting
it with a more manageable goal (i.e., use the more famil-
iar surface-level strategies).
As argued previously, scaling back is a way to stay in
the situation in a meaningful way, even though in a
smaller way than originally planned. Students who keep
using the familiar surface strategies perceive progress
toward an important goal and experience positive affect
and confidence, two important ingredients of the self-
regulation of motivation. Achieving this positive phe-
nomenological state may, in their opinion, be a far
greater benefit than the alleged processing benefits the
teacher mentioned.
Novices Rely Heavily on Surface-Level Processing
to Extend Their Domain Knowledge
A third explanation of the observed phenomenon relates
to the students appraisal that the tasks are too taxing.
As illustrated previously, different streams of informa-
tion are present in the students working memory. On
the one hand, there is information about the qualities
and outputs of their learning process in progress. For ex-
ample, students may think, I do not understand what I
am reading. What does this new heading mean? On the
other hand, there is information about various aspects of
the self-regulation of the learning process in progress, in-
cluding information about the monitoring processes
(e.g., There are so many new words and I do not know
whether we have to look them up or read on and see
whether we can grasp the meaning of the text without
consulting a dictionary, or We have to relate what we
read to personal experiences. But I do not know anything
about this text ). There is also information about the
self-regulation of motivation in working memory (e.g., I
get the feeling that this text is too complicated for me to
read. It is also so boring. I dont feel like continuing.
Why am I doing this?).
All these why, where, how, when questions tax stu-
dents limited processing capacity while reading the
text. They might react to this information overload by
simply slipping back to what they normally do when pro-
cessing a text, namely, reading, rereading, skipping un-
Promoting Students Willingness to Invest Ef fort into School Work 369
familiar words, rehearsing, and memorizing. P. A.
Alexander et al.s (1998) model of stages of developing
expertise predicts that only those students who are in
the competence or proficiency stage will use deep-level
processing strategies consistently. These researchers
showed that students who are still in the acclimation
stage rely on surface-level processing strategies rather
than deep-level processing strategies to extend their
knowledge base and make it more coherent. Most stu-
dents in our sample who relapsed to SLP might have had
limited, fragmentary knowledge about the content of the
texts they had to read and of the conditions in which
deep-level strategies are superior to surface strategies.
This lack of prior knowledge would categorize them as
novices in the domain, and such categorization quasi-
automatically implies that they make use of SLP rather
than DLP (P. A. Alexander et al., 1998). In other words,
what we had expected from these students was unwar-
ranted, given their present competence level. I will add
yet another explanation for low effort in the classroom
that I have not mentioned previously, namely, effort min-
imalization due to conflicting goals.
Effort Minimalization Due to Conflicting Goals
Corno (2004) explained that students who have worked
for a long time under unfavorable classroom conditions
are likely to show unproductive work habits. I have previ-
ously referred to this phenomenon as low effort due to
the perception of suboptimal conditions for learning,
and I used Nolens (2003) recent studies as an illustra-
tion of this principle. I believe it is essential to distin-
guish effort reduction due to suboptimal conditions from
low effort due to conflicting goals. I prefer to refer to the
latter phenomenon with the term ef fort minimalization.
As mentioned previously, modern students have
much more on their mind than doing homework and
preparing for quizzes and exams. Teacher-set assign-
ments have to compete for limited resources with
other activities, such as sports, dancing, going out
with friends, and surfing the Internet. To the extent
that preparation time and follow-up activities required
for school fit into their overfull agenda, students are
willing to invest the required effort in school tasks.
Remarkably, Western teachers complain about their
students low effort for their academic studies, and
students complain about their teachers lack of insight
into their overall task load. Why these conflicting
views? I think that teachers assess benefits and costs
of homework tasks in terms of their instrumentality
for future performance in school and beyond. In other
words, teachers and researchers have a long-term time
perspective, which often contrasts sharply with their
students short-term time perspective.
A study conducted in Leiden (Du Bois-Reymond &
Metselaar, 2001) described the phenomenon of the cal-
culating student. These researchers found that high
school students want to get the most out of the system (a
certificate) as well as having a fun school time with
the least effort. If they calculate well, they can have it
both ways. They realize that if they miscalculate the re-
sources they have to invest (attention, time, and effort),
they have to bear the costs. The peer group and even
their parents provide information, help, and support in
this important matter. To straddle the divide between
surviving in a school system on which they have no in-
fluence and enjoying autonomy and emancipation out-
side school they allocate resources by using modern
media (mobile telephone, e-mail, fax, and the Internet)
and their social network to share the work load
and reduce time spent on homework and preparing for
tests and exams. Valuable information about negotiation
strategies that work with specific teachers is also ex-
changed. Du Bois-Reymond and Metselaar (2001) em-
phasized that modern students are aware of their
personal and social assets (e.g., their social status,
their parents influence, their competence and energy,
their skills to earn money to pay for their consumer
needs), and they negotiate with teachers about how
much effort is required for homework and to pass the
exams (for further discussion, see Boekaerts, 2003a).
Is the work style described here an example of effort
reduction due to suboptimal conditions, and if so, does
it rely on the same underlying principles? I do not think
it is. I speculate that the effort reduction observed in
calculating students is not due to lack of value and inter-
est in the task or to high perceived demand-capacity
ratio. Rather, this type of effort regulation depends on
societal factors that impact student behavior through
peer-group influence (Rydell Altermatt & Pomerantz,
2003). Elliott and Hufton (2002) defended the view that
societal changes have a powerful effect on students per-
ception of work rates and workload. For example, stu-
dents conception of hard work may undergo changes
when it is common practice in schools that students
have a part-time job to pay for their consumer needs
(Steinberg & Sanford, 1991).
370 Self-Regulation and Ef fort Investment
Summary
What I wanted to illustrate in this section is that differ-
ent conclusions for practice could be drawn on the basis
of our results. Due to a poor conceptualization of the
mental load construct in relation to text processing, an
inadequate assessment of students self-regulation of
effort, and a total neglect of the different stages of com-
petence development in a domain, we were not able to
identify the mechanisms that underlie the relapse to
surface-level processing strategies observed in some
of our students after the training period. However, we
learned that modern theorists have a great deal to say
about this phenomenon. We now have a better idea of why
students do not make use of newly acquired processing
strategies. One reason is that they judge these strategies
as benefits but are not able to pay the cost for these
benefits. Another reason is that they are not willing to
pay the extra cost. Our results and the discussions that
followed with teachers and fellow researchers helped me
to conceptualize where effort is located in the self-
regulation system and to formulate new hypotheses.
Where Is Effort Located within the Self-
Regulation Process?
I explained previously that in my dual processing model,
a distinction is made between two parallel pathways.
Activity in the growth pathway is energized by top-
down processing, and activity in the well-being pathway
by bottom-up processing. At several points in the discus-
sion, I have argued that students who have easy access
to volitional strategies and are prepared to use them
could stay on the mastery pathway and reroute activity
from the well-being pathway to the growth pathway.
I would like to suggest at this point that the underlying
mechanism responsible for changes in the level of effort
coincides with volition-driven self-regulation. More
concretely, I have conceptualized volitional strategies
as a switching track between the growth pathway and
the well-being pathway. Is there evidence that students
conscious or unconscious decisions to increase or de-
crease effort during the learning process are located in
the self-regulation system at the level of volitional
strategies?
Student reports confirm that using volitional strate-
gies to stay on the growth pathway or get off the
well-being pathway comes at a cost. Students view
volition-driven self-regulation to support top-down self-
regulation as effortful. Likewise, they report that recov-
ering from emotions and redirecting attention to the
learning task is effortful. J. E. Turner and Schallert
(2001) illustrated that students who are on the well-
being pathway can move into the growth direction if they
(re)appraise the goal as instrumental and call upon voli-
tional strategies to prevent unproductive rumination
about shame and manage resources in the task. Prelimi-
nary evidence also comes from recent studies reported in
social psychology by Baumeister and his colleagues.
Baumeister (2003) reasoned that using willpower to re-
sist temptation or to control emotional reactions costs
energy that needs to be restored. They asked participants
to complete a geometrical puzzle that was in fact unsolv-
able and measured the time participants persisted on the
puzzle. However, before starting the puzzle, these partic-
ipants, who had skipped a meal, were tempted with
freshly baked cookies and chocolates. Half the partici-
pants were instructed to resist the temptation and instead
eat radishes. Interestingly, those who resisted the treats
tended to give up faster on the puzzle than either the par-
ticipants who had not been tempted or those who had
been allowed to eat the sweets. It seems that the effort
needed to resist temptation interacted with the effort
needed to persist on the task. A similar pattern emerged
in a second experiment, in which individuals were re-
quested to focus on their emotional responses as they
viewed an upsetting video and either had to suppress
or amplify them. Baumeister and Eppes (2005) found
that participants who had to focus on their emotions and
control them tended to give up faster on a successive
handgrip-squeezing task than those who did not have to
control their emotions. These researchers suggested that
the self-regulation strategies that are needed to resist
temptation or control emotions interfere with active en-
gagement and persistence on a task (i.e., with the self-
regulation of effort) unless the spent energy is restored.
Obviously, these results need to be taken to the class-
room. Researchers need to study what types of voli-
tional strategies students use when they are recovering
from emotions and find it difficult to redirect their at-
tention to the learning process.
CULTURALDIFFERENCESINTHESELF-
REGULATIONOFMOTIVATIONANDEFFORT
In the 1970s and 1980s, investing effort into a task was
considered akin to task engagement and was measured as
Cultural Dif ferences in the Self-Regulation of Motivation and Ef fort 371
students time-on-task (e.g., Fischer & Berliner, 1985).
Researchers discovered that classrooms differ consider-
ably in the time their students engage in academic learn-
ing, and that students who spent more time off-task
scored considerably lower on standardized tests than
students who were actively engaged in completing exer-
cises. In the 1970s and early 1980s, students in typical
classrooms paid attention to what they had to do about
70% of the time. This finding made headline news when
the results of cross-cultural research in mathematics
(e.g., Stevenson, Lee, & Stigler, 1986) revealed that
Asian students show higher school achievement than
U.S. students. Comparing the classroom behavior of stu-
dents in Japan, Taiwan, and the United States and inter-
viewing teachers and parents, Stevenson and colleagues
had found that 65% of U.S. fifth graders school days
are devoted to academic activities, compared with 90%
for Asian students. Asian teachers seemed to manage
their classrooms differently, leading to more time-on-
task. Moreover, attitudes of Asian parents and teachers
toward learning and effort differed from those of their
Western peers; they fostered a learning orientation that
reassured students that effort and persistence are neces-
sary and sufficient ingredients of the learning process.
A prominent line of investigation in cross-cultural psy-
chology clarified that divergent motivational practices
exist between East and West. Markus and Kitayama
(1991) and Kitayama and Markus (1999) reviewed the
literature, showing that in Western countries, the key
words describing students motivational beliefs are self-
ef ficacy, self-esteem, and attribution of success and fail-
ure to ability. Self-criticism is not encouraged and
weaknesses are played down. As I have explained else-
where (Boekaerts, 1998, 2003b), such a conceptualiza-
tion of learning and achievement implies that Western
students focus on their strengths and are motivated to
invest effort only if they view success as being within
easy reach. By contrast, Asian students have a fixed so-
cial role and want to fulfill that role to perfection. It is
their responsibility to adjust to the context of the school
and improve their academic and social skills. The key
words that describe Asian students motivational beliefs
are attribution to ef fort, living up to ones role expecta-
tions, and self-discipline.
A number of recent cross-country and cross-cultural
studies (R. Alexander, 2000; Elliott & Hufton, 2002;
Larson & Verma, 1999) shed some light on cultural and
societal influences that affect students perception of
task engagement, effort, and hard work. For example, R.
Alexander reported that student classroom engagement
varies across different countries, and that students un-
derstanding of the nature of authority and autonomy in-
fluenced their academic engagement to a considerable
extent. He noted that students academic engagement
was lower in countries where they were allowed more
freedom of action. Beaton et al.s (1996) study con-
firmed yet again that Asian students ( here: students
from Korea and Japan), though ranking among the very
best in mathematics and science in international com-
parative studies, have a relative low self-concept of abil-
ity compared with German students, but that they hold a
firm belief that effort is necessary and sufficient to
achieve in these subject areas.
Elliott and Hufton (2002) also reported consistent
cross-cultural differences in effort beliefs. They found
that Western students ( here: students from the United
States and the United Kingdom) put a greater emphasis
on the instrumentality of effort for academic success
than students in the Russian Federation (St. Petersburg)
but seemed to have a different understanding of what
hard work means. When asked about their work
habits, Western students described lifestyles that did not
underscore their statement that they worked hard.
Academic standards and achievement, as well as aca-
demic demands and work rates, tended to be much
higher in St. Petersburg ( before the massive changes
that occurred in the social, economic, and educational
systems of their country) than in the two Western coun-
tries. Russian students fully realized that effort (inten-
sity) and persistence (duration) are essential to survive
the harsh educational system, and they simply acted ac-
cordingly. Interestingly, Elliott and Hufton observed
that Russian adolescents conditions of growing up
changed considerably after the massive changes. Their
current understanding of freedom and authority is also
different from before, and they follow their Western
peers in their search for greater material gains. Like
their Western peers, adolescents in the Russian Federa-
tion are nowadays confronted with multiple goals and
many environmental distractions; they have to make
many choices and their decision-making seems to im-
pact favorably or unfavorably on their effort investment
in school (see also R. Alexanders, 2000, results men-
tioned previously).
A word of caution is in order here. Many cross-coun-
try comparisons are restricted to a rather superficial
description of the contrasting personality characteris-
tics that different cultures value and promote during the
372 Self-Regulation and Ef fort Investment
socialization process. Important aspects of childrens
and adolescents everyday functioning are left out of
the equation. In my view, students self-regulation of
motivation and effort can be understood only if we use
a conceptual framework that casts childrens and ado-
lescents behavior in terms of the self-regulation
processes that they activate and generate to steer and
direct their behavior.
GUIDELINES FOR FURTHER RESEARCH
AND APPLICATIONS
In this section, I summarize what is presently known
about students self-regulation of motivation and effort
in a set of principles that may guide further research and
practice. I also point to some gaps in our understanding
of the self-regulation of motivation and effort.
Principles for Research and Practice
Based on the literature reviewed previously, I have for-
mulated 10 principles that may guide teachers when they
coach their students to enhance their self-regulation:
1. Mastery: Effort investment leads to mastery.
2. Compensation: Effort might compensatefor lowability.
3. Familiarity: Familiar activities create less uncer-
tainty and cost less effort than unfamiliar or complex
activities, which may create a phenomenological state
of felt difficulty.
4. Perceived demand-capacity ratio: Effort is not needed
if perceived capacity exceeds task demands.
5. Interest: Meaningfulness and task enjoyment create
a phenomenological state that boosts motivation
and effort.
6. Cost-benefit ratio: Students are prepared to invest
effort if the perceived benefits exceed the per-
ceived costs.
7. Flow: All-engrossing task engagement does not re-
quire conscious effort.
8. Confidence and doubt: When task demands are
close to ones level of performance, confidence will
increase effort and doubt will decrease it.
9. Accommodation: When new experiences cannot be
accommodated, students need to understand that it
is necessary to work through a series of tensions.
10. Volitional strategies: Self-regulation of effort re-
quires that students are aware that volitional strate-
gies are needed to achieve the goal, that they have
easy access to these strategies, and that they are
willing to use them.
These 10 principles are the cumulative results of cur-
rent research from different research lines. What is the
meaning of this information? Are these principles ac-
tionable? The good news is that, together, the 10 princi-
ples provide teachers and educational practitioners with
a heuristic for predicting students self-regulation of
motivation and effort and for creating learning environ-
ments that stimulate students to invest effort. Taken
together, the 10 principles predict low effort when stu-
dents want to hide low ability, shy away from going
through a series of tensions to accommodate new experi-
ences, opt for activities they are already familiar with,
doubt their capacity, are not aware of or do not have easy
access to volitional strategies, expect high costs for low
benefits, do not value the activity, or perceive the
demand-capacity ratio as suboptimal.
Insight into the variables that impact students self-
regulation of motivation and effort is necessary to guide
researchers who want to set up intervention programs,
teaching consultants who advise teachers in the use of
more effective instruction methods, and teachers who
actually coach students in the classroom.
The bad news is that the 10 principles are of different
breeds and that it is difficult to integrate them into a co-
herent framework. Some principles represent if-then
rules of the type If the task is such that the perceived
benefits exceed the perceived cost, then students will
invest effort. These principles describe the antecedents
of effort. Other principles represent students instru-
mentality beliefs about effort (e.g., effort is instrumen-
tal to achieve mastery). These principles describe the
outcomes of effort. Principle 10 specifies the underlying
mechanism of effort.
In other words, the 10 principles summarize what we
currently know about the antecedents and outcomes of
effort and about the mechanism itself. Unfortunately,
next to nothing is known about whether all students are
aware of these principles and endorse them, whether
they are linked to specific content domains in a coherent
way, or whether they exist in the individuals meaning
system as fragmentary ideas about effort investment.
Much is still to be learned about gender and cultural dif-
References 373
ferences in students self-regulation of motivation and
effort in different content domains.
Questions with Which the Field Is Still Struggling
At the beginning of this chapter, I observed that the con-
cept of self-regulation is receiving increased attention
because it represents a systems approach. A systems
approach allows researchers to focus simultaneously on
students attempts to target their cognitions, feelings,
and actions in the service of their goals and on their
skill to pick up environmental cues to assist their self-
regulation process. Studying all these aspects of self-
regulation in one comprehensive framework offers
several benefits for research, interventions, and class-
room practice. A systems approach has the potential to
interconnect areas of research and practice that have
been studied in isolation. Integrating the results of iso-
lated fields of study not only provides a richer descrip-
tion of the self-regulation processes that students
engage in, it also provides an excellent framework for
taking stock of our current knowledge and identifying
gaps in our understanding.
Despite the large amount of information that is cur-
rently available on how students regulate their learning
in the classroom, the literature has several gaps. It is in
fact strange that we do not have access to a great deal of
information on gender differences in self-regulation and
that we have little information about the development of
self-regulation over time. The evidence that I reviewed
in this chapter suggests that the concept of self-
regulation, particularly the self-regulation of motiva-
tion and effort, merits further exploration. Future
research should address questions such as the following:
How does the self-regulation of motivation and effort
evolve over time? How do children build up their theory
of engagement and effort? What types of contexts are
beneficial (impede) the development of self-regulation
of motivation and effort? How do differences in the
self-regulation of motivation and effort affect school
success? Answers to these and similar questions are es-
sential to set up intervention programs that help teach-
ers and schools to counteract the well-documented
decline in intrinsic motivation after primary school. My
conclusion is that the potential contribution of the self-
regulation construct has yet to be realized, especially
the development of self-regulation and the factors that
influence this development.
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378
CHAPTER 10
Risk and Prevention
ROBERT L. SELMAN and AMY J. DRAY
PREVENTION RESEARCH IN THE
LAST DECADES 379
CASE STUDY 1: THE SCHOOL HAS A MENTAL
HEALTH PROBLEM, CAN IT BE TREATED? 381
Our Involvement in the Gilmore 382
Our Expertise 382
The Symptoms of the Problem 382
From Each Persons Perspective: What Issues of Social
Relationship Matter the Most to Teachers, Students,
and Administrators? 383
The Approach to Treatment and Prevention 388
How Can the Institute of Medicine Model Help the
Gilmore School? 389
Some Possible Choices 390
Implementation 393
The Tension of Research, Practice, Service,
and Training 395
CASE STUDY 2: PRACTICE-EMBEDDED
RESEARCHMOVING FROM RESEARCH TO
PRACTICE TO POLICY AND BACK AGAIN 396
From Research to Practice: The Integration of a Theory
of Interpersonal and Intergroup Development into a
Literacy Curriculum 398
From Practice Back to Research: The Theory and
Promotion of Social Awareness 401
From Awareness to Practice: How Children Learn
Strategies of Coping with Discrimination 402
Why This Type of Analysis Matters 404
From Policy to Practice: Where the Promotion of Social
Awareness Fits within Educational Policy in the Field
of Literacy 405
Reviewing the Map: The Institute of Medicine Principles
in Light of the Two Cases 407
Enlarging the Map: Connecting the Institute of
Medicine Principles to the Public Policy Circle 408
The Journey from Practice and Policy Back to Research:
Reversing the Direction of the Feedback Loop 410
Accountability and Assessment 412
Developing Our Knowledge Base: Triangulating
Research with Practice 413
CONCLUSION 414
REFERENCES 416
In the past 30 years, much has been written about the
application of research to practice in order to promote
the positive social development of children and youth.
Many prevention and intervention programs have been
designed to ameliorate the effects of risk factors that
predict negative life experiences and promote positive
contexts and capacities that optimize childrens health,
social welfare, and academic capabilities. The National
Institute of Mental Healths report in 1977 (Klein &
Goldstein, 1977), the publication of 14 Ounces of Pre-
vention in 1988 (Price, Cowen, Lorion, & Ramos-
McKay, 1988), the Institute of Medicine report in 1994
(Mrazek & Haggerty, 1994), and the 2003 special issue
of American Psychologist, Prevention That Works for
Children and Youth (Weissberg, Kumpfer, & Seligman,
2003) stand as historical markers of our progress. They
document both the research and the debates that evolved
over time as we moved as a discipline toward an empha-
sis on prevention and intervention in childrens mental
health and socioemotional competence. These docu-
ments expertly address the issues of children at risk and
detail findings from intervention programs, thereby fur-
thering our understanding of how to best help children
and their families.
In contrast, we do not intend to write another review
of evidence-based programs that prevent disorder or pro-
mote competence and wellness. Any one of the excellent
summaries that have been published recently can direct
Prevention Research in the Last Decades 379
the practitioner, policymaker, or researcher to what is
now called prevention science or evidence-based prac-
tice in the area of child and youth development (see,
e.g., Catalano, Berglund, Ryan, Lonczak, & Hawkins,
2002; Greenberg, Domitrovich, & Bumbarger, 2001;
Nation et al., 2003; Wandersman & Florin, 2003).
Instead, this chapter is about the ways social develop-
ment research in child psychology can be applied in
school settings, and how research and theory in turn can
be transformed by practice. The first part of the chapter
begins by documenting the challenges faced by an urban
public school in Boston as it negotiates the tricky ter-
rain of choosing an intervention program designed to
promote positive social development and reduce the
risks of negative student outcomes such as school fail-
ure, conduct disorder, depression, and relational diffi-
culties. In describing this schools story, we focus on
the challenges faced by practitioners as they try to
translate academic theory and research into daily prac-
tices that support social and emotional competence
while under enormous pressure to achieve academic
standards. Using this case study as a context, we focus
on two critical questions: What aspects of social devel-
opment are the teachers and administrators most inter-
ested in and How does research and theory fit into their
everyday practice?
We outline and document some prevention/interven-
tion programs that are available to the school and dis-
cuss the benefits and drawbacks of each as identified by
the school in the process of choosing a program. This
first part of the chapter introduces you to an elemen-
tary school in distress, not the usual subject in develop-
mental research or the usual patient in child clinical
psychology. This story is about the challenges and prob-
lems of implementing research-based practice in an ap-
plied setting and the ways research may or may not meet
the everyday needs and practices of an urban school.
The second half of the chapter begins by introducing
a classroom in the school. Using our own domain of so-
cial development as a context, we describe the chal-
lenges and problems we faced in theory building and
conducting research in an applied school setting. This
case illustrates how our work in an applied school set-
ting did not simply draw from previous research but also
led to new knowledge. This second analysis not only
considers what the academic discipline of social devel-
opment has to offer to schools, but also shows how doing
research embedded in a school contributes to the knowl-
edge base of developmental psychology as a discipline.
Rather than simply evaluating research-based practice,
we also discuss the process of what we call practice-
based research.
Finally, the chapter integrates the two cases to illus-
trate how we have come to a new way of thinking about
the relationship among theory, practice, and research
from what we believe is more common in academic, and
even practical, settings. From the perspective of aca-
demics, we suggest that both researchers and practition-
ers alike overly privilege, if not idealize, the impact of
theory and research on practice but do not always appre-
ciate the value of the reverse. Despite the commonly
heard rhetoric that practice and research ought to be in-
tegrated, we believe there remains a deeply held belief
in the academic disciplines that there is a unidirectional,
straight-line orientation from evidence generated by the
sciences to its application in practice. Knowledge gener-
ated from research informs practice and policy: That is
the tenet we have been consciously or unconsciously
taughtby policymakers who seek to make informed
policy decisions, by foundations offering us grants to
further our work, by educators looking for ways to teach
in their schools, for parents seeking help for their chil-
dren. As researchers, we are seen as the experts, and
we often buy into this idea ourselves.
In the final section of the chapter, we suggest ways to
reexamine this view. Using the two case studies describ-
ing the school and the children in the school, we demon-
strate how and why we have begun to reevaluate our
own definition of applied research. We use the disci-
pline of social development as a baseour own area of
so-called expertiseto show how we have attempted
to bridge the gap between the researchers scientific
knowledge of child development and the practitioners
everyday experiential and clinical knowledge of chil-
dren and adolescents.
Both case studies were taken from experiences
we had while conducting research and managing preven-
tion programs in Boston public schools over the past
several years. The school and its administrators, teach-
ers, school staff, and students are composites of real
people and situations we have observed. We hope they
will become as real to you as they have been to us.
PREVENTION RESEARCH IN THE
LAST DECADES
Since the 1980s, prevention and intervention has become
a dominant focus in child psychology. Just as medical
380 Risk and Prevention
health professionals are focused on reducing risks for
heart disease, prevention and intervention programs are
seen as essential for reducing the complex mental health
risk factors facing todays children and youth (Mrazek
& Haggerty, 1994). Research in developmental and child
clinical psychology has been the foundation for many of
the programs that have evolved. In these disciplines, a
number of factors have been identified that can place
children at risk for psychopathology and negative life
outcomes. These factors range from biological, cogni-
tive, and neurological problems to relational difficulties
within families or with peers to contextual and environ-
mental factors such as poverty and racial injustice
(Cicchetti & Toth, 1998; Coie, Lochman, Terry, &
Hyman, 1992; Dryfoos, 1990, 1997; Luthar & Zigler,
1992). At the same time, research has also identified as-
sets and protective factors that can ameliorate these
risks and promote healthy development, such as positive
relationships with adults and peers, a sense of commu-
nity, and success in school (Benson, Scales, Leffert, &
Roehlkepartain, 1999; Catalano et al., 2003; Luthar,
Cicchetti, & Becker, 2000; Roberts, Brown, Johnson, &
Reinke, 2002; Scales et al., 2001).
In 1994, the Institute of Medicine (IOM) Committee
on the Prevention of Mental Disorders established rigor-
ous standards for prevention research. Although ad-
vances had been made in diagnosing and treating many
mental illnesses, efforts to prevent the occurrence of
problems in children and adults lagged behind (Mrazek
& Haggerty, 1994). Although many programs had been
created to reduce the risk of mental disorders, no clear
guidelines existed to direct their development or evalua-
tion. The Preventive Intervention Research Cycle (Fig-
ure 10.1) was created as a road map that researchers
1
Reinhold Niebuhr (18921971) was an American theologian
and the author of The Irony of American History (1952).
should follow to foster psychological health among chil-
dren and families in a systematic and scientific way. One
of its main emphases was on making sure that program
outcomes were scientifically evaluated using clinical tri-
als. Too many programs, it seemed, were using research
simply as support for their underlying principles and in-
terventions, rather than making the next step toward
using outcome research to discover whether the inter-
ventions actually worked (Wandersman & Florin, 2003).
Step 1 in the IOM cycle was to identify the problem
and review research on its prevalence. Program develop-
ers, it was recommended, should inquire into the level of
community concern around the problem, review its costs
to the wider society, and develop a relationship with the
members of the community who are most affected
(Mrazek & Haggerty, 1994).
To illustrate how this step could play out in reality,
we introduce you to our first case: the teachers, stu-
dents, and staff at the Gilmore School in Boston, Massa-
chusetts. This case is based on real people and real
schools with whom we have worked over the past several
years, although names have been changed to protect
their privacy. It is, in effect, an introduction to a com-
munity of people who may be at risk for any number of
negative outcomes, including psychopathology (at the
student level) and school failure (a community problem).
Nothing that is worth doing can be achieved in our lifetime;
therefore we must be saved by hope.
Reinhold Niebuhr
1
Figure 10.1 Institute of Medicine prevention intervention model.
Feedback Loop
1. Identify problem
or disorder(s) and
review information
to determine its
extent
2. With an emphasis
on risk and protective
factors, review
relevant information
both from fields
outside prevention
and from existing
preventive intervention
research programs
3. Design, conduct,
and analyze pilot
studies and
confirmatory and
replication trials
of the preventive
intervention
program
4. Design, conduct,
and analyze large-
scale trials of
the preventive
intervention
program
5. Facilitate large-
scale implementation
and ongoing evaluation
of the preventive
intervention program
in the community
Case Study 1: The School Has a Mental Health Problem, Can It Be Treated? 381
CASE STUDY 1: THE SCHOOL HAS A
MENTAL HEALTH PROBLEM, CAN IT
BE TREATED?
The Gilmore School is located in an urban neighborhood
in Boston. The Gilmore has a student enrollment of about
250 students, with 84% identified as Black or African
American, about 10% Latino/Hispanic, 3% White, 1.5%
Asian, and 2% other/mixed. These racial and ethnic cat-
egories reflect the U.S. census and the demographic cat-
egories used by the Boston city government and Boston
Public School system (Auerbach, 2001).
The 2002/2003 school year was particularly difficult
for the school. Like many schools struggling under
state and federal mandates, the Gilmore was under state
review and labeled an underperforming school be-
cause it had not made adequate yearly progress on the
Massachusetts Comprehensive Assessment System
(MCAS). Under the No Child Left Behind Act (2002),
which links Title 1 funds to academic performance,
schools that have not made adequate yearly progress for
5 years are identified for corrective action (Boston
Public Schools, 2003). The MCAS is the statewide stu-
dent assessment initiative; since its inception in 1999
the Gilmore students had performed poorly in both En-
glish Language Arts and Mathematics. Because of the
lack of demonstrated improvement, a team from the
Massachusetts Board of Education conducted regular
evaluations of school functioning. Their presence con-
tributed to an overall sense of uneasiness and stress felt
by the teachers and the students alike.
In addition, the City of Boston had experienced a
major budget crisis during the school year, and millions
of dollars were cut from the education budget. The
budget crisis depleted school resources and further con-
tributed to teacher stress because it resulted in staff lay-
offs and undercut job security. Therefore, in the
2002/2003 school year, the Gilmore experienced both
diminished teacher human resources, due to stress, and
low monetary resources, due to budget cuts. The school
was undernourished.
To help the students succeed academically, the
school needed to focus on literacy. All teachers were
trained to link assessment with instruction and used
the Readers and Writers Workshop models to improve
reading and writing skills (Boston Plan for Excellence,
2004). In addition, the school provided a number of
other instructional resources: Title I Reading, Reading
Recovery (Clay, 1993), a resource room, literacy/math
tutors, transition services for grades 3 and 4, and
MCAS skills class for students in grades 2 through 5.
For the 2002/2003 school year, the biggest challenges
at the Gilmore were raising teacher morale and trying
to help students succeed academically and raise their
scores on the MCAS. Essentially, the staff from
the State Department of Education gave the Gilmore
an ultimatum: Grow (in the percentage of students
who meet the minimal requirements for academic
achievement) or go ( be shut down, with the chance
that teachers in the school would lose their jobs, for
under state guidelines once a school enters this proba-
tionary period, the teachers are no longer protected by
the union).
Mr. Martinez has been the principal of the Gilmore
for the past 4 years. During his tenure, Mr. Martinez
worked with Boston business leaders to raise funds for
academic programs in school and after school. His ap-
proach to social development and mental health issues
has been to partner with programs that provide class-
room, family, and school climate support. Part of Mr.
Martinezs responsibility as principal is to ensure that
the projects and interventions serving the school are ap-
propriate to the schools needs. When he came on board,
one of the first things he did was to cut back on the
number of outside interventions, as he felt the school
was suffering from projectitis. He now believes that
the programs in place are strong and relevant ones: A
mental health agency provides pull-out counseling to
supplement that offered by the schools part-time coun-
selor; a university partnership brings in graduate stu-
dents to do social skills group work with students
through classroom and small-group sessions; a local cor-
poration sends volunteers once a month to read to stu-
dents and provides considerable financial support; a
religious organization from a nearby suburban commu-
nity offers once-a-week literacy tutoring for targeted
students; and Americorps provides similar tutoring ser-
vices in math.
In addition, Mr. Martinez brought in an afterschool
program that now serves over one-third of the student
body. Although Mr. Martinez is aware that some of the
coordinators of the various organizations feel they are
competing for his attention, he believes that each is
serving an important role and is loath to pare down the
list any further. His challenge, however, is figuring out
how to coordinate the programs better, so that the sum
ends up equaling more than its combined parts. Whether
or not he is successful in this goal, he at least knows that
382 Risk and Prevention
each of the programs is delivering skills development.
His number one assessment in considering any new or
existing approach involves asking the following ques-
tion: Are the students gaining skills?
This is a school in seriously poor health, at high risk
for expiring within the next 12 to 24 months, and yet if
one were to make a casual visit to it today, or examine
the evidence as presented so far, one might not be able to
diagnose the causes of its problems, let alone be aware of
its precarious position. Disciplinary actions are down
since several years ago, and the classrooms are bright
and cheerful. Furthermore, since the summer, when the
staff and principal worked through their vacation with
the state examiners to develop a school improvement
plan, morale among the faculty has perceptibly im-
proved. Beginning with the start of school in the fall, all
those involved with the Gilmore have been trying to fol-
low the school improvement plan.
Also, as we can see, the Gilmore has many friends
in the neighborhood: outside social and mental health
agencies, volunteers from corporate organizations in-
vested in tutoring and mentoring, and local businesses
and corporate foundations of one kind or another who
are trying to provide financial resources to help the chil-
dren in the Gilmore do well in school. These attempts to
meet the standards will be tested again in the spring, and
that is when we will get another reading on the health
and vital signs of the Gilmore School.
Our Involvement in the Gilmore
As a friend of the Gilmore for the past 5 years, we are
a partner of the school based in a local university. We
are interested in the social development of children and
schools from the perspective of research, teaching/
training, and education. The Gilmore School has been one
of our practicum service and research training sites for
the past 5 years. Masters-level students from the Risk
and Prevention Program are trained in psychological pre-
vention, both at the individual and the classroom climate
level. Doctoral students are trained in research, with an
emphasis on human development and cultural psychology.
Like many professionals whose interests in the devel-
opment of children are expressed from a base in an
academic setting, in our case a research-oriented profes-
sional graduate school of education, a major reason we
are in the Gilmore is that several years ago we received
funds from a private foundation to bring some of what we
call either practice-based research or research-based
practice into the school as well as to several others in the
Boston Public Schools. The focus of our own practice
work is on the promotion of childrens social develop-
ment, a need the Gilmore principal and faculty felt their
students warranted, but which, given the emphasis the
school needed to place on instructional improvements,
they felt they could not focus on by themselves. So, when
we came with a well-funded service project that made
sense to the school, we were generally welcomed in. But
our progress at the school has been one of fits and starts
as we continue to work toward improving both our deliv-
ery of social development programs and our understand-
ing of what the school and the students need.
Our Expertise
We have been involved in psychosocial interventions
(treatment, prevention, education/promotion) for over 30
years (Selman, 1980, 2003; Selman, Watts, & Schultz,
1997). Although we have worked in partnership with a
wide range of child development professionals, each in-
fluenced by one or more disciplines, for the most part
our approaches have been based in the discipline of basic
and applied developmental psychology, with influences
that also can be traced to clinical and educational psy-
chology and child psychiatry (Beardslee, 2002; Beard-
slee & Gladstone, 2001).
Although over the past 5 years we have had many dif-
ferent relationships with the Gilmore School, for the
purposes of this case, we have been cast in the role of
school doctors, that is, as outside professionals who
are supposed to make a diagnosis of certain aspects of
the schools health and write up a prescription. Our role
may be unusual for traditional researchers in the field of
developmental psychology, but in applied developmental
psychology, working in similar school-based projects
has become more common (Aber, Brown, & Jones, 2003;
Adalbjarnardottir, 1993).
The Symptoms of the Problem
We next share with you the symptoms, the concerns
expressed by the principal as well as teachers and stu-
dents about what we call school climate: the institu-
tional policies, practices, structures, ethos, internal
social, and community dynamics that support or do not
support instruction. Each persons story is a composite
Case Study 1: The School Has a Mental Health Problem, Can It Be Treated? 383
based on conversations we have had with a variety
of individuals about their classes, individual students,
and how they perceive their role within the school
system. We then share information about four interven-
tion and treatment approaches that are available to
schools today.
We have selected these four programs for several
reasons. First, they have each been by reviewed for
scientific merit by The Collaborative for Academic,
Social, and Emotional Learning (CASEL, 2004).
CASEL describes its mission thus: To enhance chil-
drens success in school and life by promoting coordi-
nated, evidence-based social, emotional, and academic
learning as an essential part of education from pre-
school though high school. CASEL synthesizes the lat-
est empirical findings and theoretical developments and
provides leadership to foster progress in what they call
social and emotional learning research and practice.
Second, we selected these four programs because
they differ in ways that are reflective of programs that
are generally available to schools. For example, some
programs direct their intervention toward the prevention
of disorders or the reduction of exposure to social and
emotional risks; others focus on promoting social
strengths and competencies. Some interventions are
classroom-based, others work within the whole school,
and still others work across districts, enlisting schools,
families, and communities. A few of the programs are
located in university settings and have their own re-
search units, and others have grown out of applied set-
tings and have recruited outside evaluators to do the
type of outcome research that will enable them to claim
they are evidence-based.
Each of the four approaches we describe is multidisci-
plinary, outcome-evaluated, and, to varying degrees,
research- and evidence-based. Each programor inter-
vention, if you willalso has a cost, and we need to con-
sider cost in our intervention planning. This case is
designed to illustrate the services, preventions, interven-
tions, and treatments available for an ailing school such
as the Gilmore.
From Each Persons Perspective: What Issues
of Social Relationship Matter the Most to
Teachers, Students, and Administrators?
We have selected six key individuals to be profiled: two
students (Robert and Reanna), two teachers (Ms. Li and
2
We would like to thank Miranda Lutyens, a former EdM stu-
dent in the Risk and Prevention Program, for her assistance in
writing the story of this school.
Ms. McCarthy), the school adjustment counselor (Ms.
Curtis), and the principal (Mr. Martinez).
2
Robert
Robert sits in one of the three red chairs lined up against
the wall to the right of the principals closed door. He
contemplates swinging his feet up onto the adjacent chair
to curl up with knees to chest, but thinks again when his
eyes meet those of the school secretary, who sits in her
office directly across the hall. Some of the kids in the
school love Ms. Thompson, bringing her drawings
theyve done in art class and always calling out her name
when passing by in the hall. But nearly all of Roberts in-
teractions with the secretary have been antagonistic.
Earlier in the year, when he was sent to her office, his
head would always hang low. Only when she demanded
that he look at her partway through the reprimand would
he force himself to meet her gaze. Now he matches her
stare from the moment he appears at the door, and the
phrases she barks at him, repetitive and rhetorical, roll
right by. He has learned the routine and has chosen the
chair closest to the window as his regular favorite.
Today, Robert has been sent to the office for being
disruptive in music class. It started when Jamil pushed
him from behind as the class entered the music room,
crammed together in a line that neither the hallway nor
the classroom could fully accommodate. Robert, along
with most of his classmates, finds Jamil annoying; he
talks too much and has trouble keeping his hands to him-
self. Robert is able to tolerate Jamils talking but has no
patience for his pushing and shoving. Today, Robert had
pushed back a little harder than usual, his level of frus-
tration heightened by the fact that the whole class had
been forced to stay in for recess yet again. The Friday
before, a group of boys in Roberts fourth-grade class,
including Jamil, had gotten into a fight on the play-
ground. As a result, the teacher, Ms. McCarthy, decided
that the entire class would be kept in from recess for 2
weeks. Robert and a number of his classmates had com-
plained that this was unfair punishment, but Ms. Mc-
Carthy said her mind was made up and no one could
unmake it. Students would have to think twice about the
consequences of bullying. Robert didnt understand why
384 Risk and Prevention
the teacher called a regular old recess fight bullying,
unless it was because Jamil had been involved and she
always defended him. Maybe if Jamil hadnt been one
of the boys who got pushed around, Ms. McCarthy
wouldnt have punished the entire class. Jamil lost even
more points with Robert for being the teachers pet.
Denial of recess time had particularly harsh repercus-
sions in Roberts world. Apart from the physical frustra-
tion of not being able to run around outside, Robert felt
his recent playground successes slipping away. A few
weeks back, he had started playing football with some of
the fifth-grade boysthe fourth and fifth grades share
recess time after lunchand he was just beginning to win
their respect. They had even let him play quarterback a
couple of times, and a few of the fifth graders would call
out his name and shake his hand when passing in the hall-
way. Then recess had been taken away, and within a few
days Robert felt the attention from the older boys fade
away. Now, sitting in the red chair, Robert gets angry
again, thinking about all the outside time that has passed
without him. Grabbing onto the edge of the chair with
both hands, he shifts angrily in his seat, but then looks up
to see that Ms. Thompson is watching him.
Reanna
Twenty minutes later, Reanna walks into the secretarys
office, her backpack over her shoulder and her coat
stuffed under her arm. Ms. Thompson smiles at the new
arrival, greeting her with a Hi, Sweetheart! Reanna
grins back and squeezes behind Ms. Thompsons desk to
seat herself at a little table by the window. She pulls out
a book and begins reading silently to herself. Reanna is
one of the few students in the school who actually likes
Drop Everything and Read (DEAR) time, which is sup-
posed to comprise the last 15 minutes of every school
day. Shes not sure her teacher, Ms. Li, likes DEAR,
since she rarely has her students engage in the intended
practice. Or maybe its just that her teacher cant man-
age to get 24 kids to read silently at the end of the day,
especially when shes trying to work with individual
students on incomplete homework assignments, test
preparation, and all the other things the class needs.
Not long after Reanna was chosen as the Thursday
bus announcer, she had asked Ms. Li if she could report
to the office 15 minutes early to do DEAR on her own.
Tired of being made fun of openly for her studious
habits and worn down by the whispers and looks di-
rected toward her by other girls in her class, Reanna
looks for escape options. She jumps at any opportunity
to spend time away from the classroomdeliveries from
Ms. Li to the office, visits to the nurse for her asthma
shots, working with John, the Americorps student who
tutors her in math once a week. Not surprisingly, Ms. Li
agreed to Reannas spending her DEAR time with Ms.
Thompson on Thursdays. Reanna senses that Ms. Li un-
derstands and is sympathetic to her plight, and she ap-
preciates Ms. Lis efforts in helping her avoid the
unfriendly environment of the classroom. Shes not sure
what else her teacher could do for her, nor is she certain
that shed want her teacher to take any further measures.
For now, at least, Thursday afternoons in the office
seems her best defense.
Reanna looks forward to Thursday afternoons. She is
happy to have the attention from Ms. Thompson and she
appreciates the quiet space, far from the afternoon com-
motion of her classroom upstairs. Most of all, Reanna
loves announcing buses. Hearing her voice amplified
throughout the halls and seeing the waves of students bus-
tle by on her command, gives Reanna great pleasure.
Whatever the girls in her class might be saying about her,
it matters much less when she is safely separated from
them and when her voice drowns out theirs. She also likes
the sense of responsibility that comes with the position. If
it werent for her accurate announcements, students would
be stranded and the school would be thrown into chaos.
All the adults in the school are constantly talking about
responsibility, and the word seems to be printed or
posted on everything she sees throughout the school day,
often coupled with respect. But until being chosen as a
bus announcer, Reanna had not found many opportunities
in her school to demonstrate responsibility. Even as a fifth
grader, she doesnt feel like a leader. Only when her voice
guides the younger students and her peers through the exit
and out to the bus stop does she feel that she is proving
herself as a responsible member of the school.
Unlike the children she directs onto the crowded
buses, Reanna has always walked to school. Next year,
she will take the bus to the local middle school, which is
over a mile from her home. Although she is excited at
the prospect of traveling far to school, she is also nerv-
ous. Plenty of stories have circulated at school and in her
neighborhood about scary things happening on middle
school buses. A seventh-grade friend was forced to
smoke part of a joint before two eighth graders would let
her off at her stop, and Reanna has heard rumors of
worse, such as forced sexual acts encouraged by other
Case Study 1: The School Has a Mental Health Problem, Can It Be Treated? 385
kids on the bus. She wonders how she will protect her-
self next year and is glad to know that some of her
friends live further from the school than she does. They
will be on the bus when she gets on in the morning and
when she gets off at the end of the day. Reannas big
hope for middle school is that a larger student body will
allow her to have a strong group of friends and avoid the
persecution shes lived through this year. Reanna wants
nothing more than to keep a low profile.
Ms. Li
As Reannas voice rings out in her fifth-grade class-
room, Ms. Li urges the remaining few students in her
room to remember to bring back their signed permission
slips for the upcoming field trip. The math instruction
professional development workshop scheduled for the
afternoon has been cancelled, and although Ms. Li
knows she should stay and put up a new display of stu-
dent worka recently mandated activity, aimed at
demonstrating standards-based achievementshe de-
cides to head home. The day has been no more exhaust-
ing than any other, but the week feels as if it should be
over. Perhaps today was more challenging, as the re-
source teacher had been out sick, which meant that the
entire class had been with Ms. Li for the full day. She
has come to anticipate eagerly the period when she is re-
lieved of six of her more challenged learners, the major-
ity of whom are her most difficult students. When the
class is at its full size, Ms. Li has trouble accomplishing
anything of substance. And she feels that this is begin-
ning to be reflected in her students work.
A second-year teacher, Ms. Li came to the profession
from the world of management consulting, where she
felt professionally challenged but personally unful-
filled. Committed to city life, she saw urban education
as a field that would allow for an important give-and-
take: Shed be contributing to positive social change,
and, in turn, her work would be meaningful and motivat-
ing. Although less overwhelmed now than during her
rookie year, Ms. Li feels that her masters degree in
education left her completely unprepared for the reality
of the classroom. The theory learned in her teacher
training practicesadvocating for a constructivist,
child-centered approachseems unattainable given the
circumstances in which she finds herself on a daily
basis. She is fond of her students and recognizes a desire
to learn in many of them. Moreover, she believes that all
her students have potential, both academically and so-
cially. But the behavior of a few consistently disrupts
the classroom environment, and other students, worn
down by the constant interruptions, quickly lose motiva-
tion. As a result, Ms. Li feels incapable of tapping into
her students strengths, let alone helping them realize
and appreciate their own potential. Her greatest fear is
that she will reach the point of exhaustion or despera-
tion where she resorts to the tactics used by other adults
in the school. The constant yelling of her colleague
across the hall is distracting. Ms. Li also refuses to em-
ploy the tactic used by the third-grade teacher, who
keeps his cell phone within reach and pretends to dial
home whenever a child misbehaves. Ms. Li prefers to
promote positive feelings in her class, rather than fear
and mistrust. She sees the bullying that goes on among
her students and wants to discourage, not emulate, this
behavior. How can she discourage the use of threats
among students if she herself employed threats as a be-
havior management tactic?
Ms. Li is not naive about the stance of her principal
and of the school system as a whole: Academics must
come first. But as hard as she works to support her stu-
dents academic learning, she feels that she cant be suc-
cessful without devoting some of her focus to social and
emotional learning. She holds the philosophical belief
one that she keeps close to her chestthat the teachers
role as promoter of social and ethical awareness is just
as important as that of academic instructor. This belief,
however, only takes her so far. When she is actually
faced with a challenge in the classroom, she feels un-
equipped to respond in a way that leads to positive re-
sults for everyone involved.
Ms. Li is well aware of the teasing and whispering
among the girls in her class. Part of the reason she had
chosen to teach at the elementary rather than middle
school level was to avoid dealing with the challenges of
girls peer relations at that age. Now, as a fifth-grade
teacher, she realizes that girls being mean to one another
also occurs in elementary school. Ms. Li talked with the
school counselor about the problem, and the counselor
spent a few lunchtimes with the most egregious offend-
ers, but the results were undetectable. Ms. Li knows it is
her responsibility to work on these social issues in the
classroom, but she doesnt know how to address them in
a way that might have a lasting effect. Instead, she tends
to look for opportunities to split up the perpetrator girls,
and when that isnt possible, she tries to relieve the vic-
tims being trapped among the victimizers. Ms. Li well
386 Risk and Prevention
remembers being teased by mean girls during her own
school years. She knows that, despite the phenomenon
now having the more official title of relational aggres-
sion, the feelings of girls like Reanna are no different
from what she experienced years ago.
Ms. McCarthy
Its the time of day when Ms. McCarthy closes all the
windows she has left ajar during the day, an attempt to
counteract the buildings overactive heating system. Its
also the time of day when Ms. McCarthy pays a visit to
the vending machine in the faculty room, two doors
down, to buy a package of chips. As much as she hates to
see her kids eating so much junk food, by the time her
classroom empties out she needs a pick-me-up. To put it
mildly, her class this year is a nightmare; her kids fight
and bully each other, disrespect her and other teachers,
steal, and swear. Ms. McCarthy didnt come into the year
blindly, either. The third-grade teachers had warned her
about this class: As the cohort progressed through each
grade level, their behavior had worsened until pervasive
poor behavior was the norm. In anticipation of inheriting
this notorious group, Ms. McCarthy had voiced her con-
cerns to the school principal, Mr. Martinez, and had even
talked about trying to transfer within the system. Days
into this year at the school, Ms. McCarthy began ex-
pressing her grievances to the principal, claiming that in
her 21 years of teaching she had never had such a trou-
blesome class. The veteran teacher also questioned how a
group like this could have moved through the school
without the students individual and collective behavior
problems being more systematically addressed. No
doubt regarding this question as a direct attack, the prin-
cipal had countered that efforts had been made by the
student support services team to deal with the extreme
challenges of this specific class. However, like many of
her colleagues, Ms. McCarthy sees the student support
services as unorganized and ineffective. Most of the ser-
vices seem to involve Band-Aid approaches to individual
students, rather than the macro-level behavior manage-
ment problems she faces in her classroom.
Over her 2 decades of teaching, Ms. McCarthy has
seen a general trend of chronic behavioral dysfunction
among the students. She knows that the recent economic
downturn may be exacerbating the poverty experienced
by many of her students. She is also aware of the cultural
shifts playing into the lives of youngsters, from sex and
violence in the media to less opportunity for creative
play, exercise, and quality time with family. These so-
cial realities, however acute and actual they may be, all
blur together and fade into the background when it
comes to Ms. McCarthys everyday experience in the
classroom. Disruptive behavior is disruptive behavior,
whatever the causes. She feels that the rise in behavior
problems has been answered by increased numbers of
professional development trainings on behavior manage-
ment, none of which she has found particularly useful.
As a result, Ms. McCarthy has resorted to collective
punishment, such as the recent recess ban resulting from
a playground fight. At this point, she believes that peer
pressure may be the only language her students under-
stand. Maybe being denied time outside will lead to a
critical mass of students discouraging others from re-
peating such behavior. Ms. McCarthy is especially frus-
trated by students behavior on the playground and in
the hallways. One minute she feels she is making some
progress in the classroom, with students speaking to her
in respectful ways and asking if anyone has seen a miss-
ing item rather than shouting out the blanket accusation
of who stole my ?! The next minute, her
students are mouthing off to other teachers in the hall-
way or fighting on the playground. Even when in class
they seem to understand what it means to behave accept-
ably toward others, they are rarely able to turn that
thought into action once they are out from under the
eyes of Ms. McCarthy.
Ms. Curtis
Picking up the toy trucks and teddy bears strewn about
the carpet, Ms. Curtis looks around to make sure she
hasnt left anything else in the resource teachers room.
Permitted the use of the sunny, spacious room due to her
colleagues absence that day, the school adjustment
counselor dreads returning to her tiny closet of an office
on the north side of the building. She sits there 3 days a
week, doing her best to manage a caseload of students
with problems ranging from withdrawn behavior that
looks like diagnosable depression to chronic aggression,
which is harder to diagnose because in some students it
seems reactive to perceived threats and in others it
seems to be the way they want to manage their social re-
lationships. Currently, she sees some students individu-
ally on a regular basis, pulling them out of class time to
engage in 30- to 45-minute counseling sessions. She also
runs lunch groups and social skills groups when she can.
The majority of her students are boys, and most of them
are referred for reasons relating to aggressive behavior.
Case Study 1: The School Has a Mental Health Problem, Can It Be Treated? 387
Ms. Curtis is a trained clinical social worker with a
background in working with families. As an African
American raised by a single mother, Ms. Curtis believes
one of the strengths she brings to her job is being able to
culturally understand and connect with the families in
the school district. Unfortunately, she has a difficult
time making contact with the families. Many parents
simply wont show up at the school. One boys mother
has missed four appointments, despite friendly reminder
phone calls each time from Ms. Curtis. Unable to work
with children without parental consent, Ms. Curtis feels
that her hands are tied.
In contrast, she finds herself wanting to throw her
arms around those parents who take an active interest in
their childs counseling. One mother showed up one
morning at the school, unannounced, and asked to speak
with the school counselor. Luckily, it had been one of Ms.
Curtiss days at the school, and she ended up talking with
the mother for over an hour. The mother shared her con-
cerns about her fourth-grade son, Robert, whose
father had just been sent to jail for the second time in
5 years. She was seeing increasingly violent tendencies in
her son and was concerned that this behavior would begin
to crop up in school. In fact, Ms. McCarthy had been
talking about this student repeatedly in student support
services meetings, and Ms. Curtis was surprised that Ms.
McCarthy had not already been in touch with the boys
mother. But rather than share this fact, Ms. Curtis chose
to focus their conversation on the mothers own assess-
ment of her son. The mother explained that she worked
until six each night, so she only got to spend a couple of
hours with the boy. In her place, his grandmother looked
after him in the afternoons, and he was allowed to play
and do homework at their housing developments commu-
nity center from the time he returned from school until
the center closed at five. He had recently been kicked out
of the community center three times in one week for
pushing and even hitting other kids, and the mother was
concerned that this would become a pattern.
As Ms. Curtis sat and listened, her emotions were
mixed. On the one hand, she was disturbed to hear the
details of this boys situation. At the same time, she was
thrilled that a parent was taking the time to share these
kinds of details with her. Without an understanding of
students home life, Ms. Curtis often feels that she is the
blind leading the blind.
Even when Ms. Curtis sees progress in her one-on-
one sessions with her students, the reports from the
teachers are rarely as encouraging. Behavior contracts
and other methods involving rewards for positive behav-
ior seem to have only a limited effect with the more dif-
ficult students. As much as she believes that her work
with the students has merit, she is well aware that what
ultimately counts is how well they are able to adjust to
the social and emotional demands of the classroom.
Occasionally, Ms. Curtis spends time in her students
classrooms, observing their behaviors and interactions
with other students and the teachers. She sees how the
environment in many classrooms only exacerbates her
students problems: a constant exchange of put-downs,
arbitrary reprimands from teachers, and overlooked
acts of bullying. She is not surprised that fights break
out frequently, both inside the classroom and on the
playground. Realizing that she needs to help her stu-
dents develop concrete skills in resisting the urge to act
out toward others, Ms. Curtis knows that these skills
must be reinforced in the classroom. But she doesnt see
much hope of it at present.
Mr. Martinez
Robert has long since vacated the red chair outside the
principals door when Mr. Martinez emerges from his
office, ducking slightly to reduce his towering size as he
passes under the door frame. Accompanying him is the
schools literacy coach, who shares her time among four
elementary schools in the city. They have been meeting
for over 2 hours to discuss their joint concerns regarding
English Language Arts (ELA) instruction at the school.
Fourth-grade MCAS results were released a week before
and were not encouraging: ELA passing scores are down
20% from the previous year. At such a small school
250 students in totalone classs scores count for a lot.
Last years fourth-grade class had difficult behavior is-
sues, and hes even more concerned about this years
fourth graders. He has heard nonstop from Ms. Mc-
Carthy regarding her classs chronic behavior problems.
His discussions with her, a veteran teacher who has held
a leadership position among the faculty ever since he
took the principals position 4 years ago, always come
back to one central issue: school support services. Both
principal and teacher know that these services should be
creating a better school atmosphere. But while Mr. Mar-
tinez believes there is overall school improvement, Ms.
McCarthy sees little evidence at the classroom level.
Problems relating to classroom and school climate
frustrate Mr. Martinez. Under constant pressure to im-
prove instruction and raise test scores, he realizes that
these aims are unrealistic when behavior management
388 Risk and Prevention
remains the number one concern (and complaint) of his
faculty. Survey results from a recent district-wide study
of student support services show that elementary school
teachers rate a caring and supportive school environ-
ment as the most effective means of reducing barriers
to learning. Mr. Martinez does not doubt that his teach-
ers would agree with this finding. But, unlike the other
activities listed in the support services survey, such as
breakfast and lunch programs, health education, and
community linkages, a caring and supportive school en-
vironment seems vague and difficult to measure. Al-
though Mr. Martinez wants to make school climate an
integral part of the schools overall improvement plan,
he believes that the only practical way of achieving this
is through attaining more immediate, concrete out-
comes, such as improved levels of literacy and increased
attendance rates. He is not willing to make school cli-
mate its own priority when he cant ensure that the
efforts made toward improving climate will result in
measurable and lasting academic results. There is too
much else at stake. As he returns to his office, having
bid the literacy coach good-bye, Mr. Martinez lets his
mind spin around these quandaries, but only for a few
minutes. There are phone calls to return and reports to
write. Whats most important right now about the school
environment is that the place is quiet and Mr. Martinez
will be able to work in peace.
The Approach to Treatment and Prevention
The good news for the Gilmore is that there is a wide-
spread proliferation of programs available to the school.
In the 1980s, the American Psychological Association
launched a task force to find and evaluate prevention
programs. At the time, not many quality programs were
discovered, but today there are many research-based
prevention programs that work (Weissberg et al., 2003).
Most follow the theoretical framework clearly outlined
in the IOM report, where prevention was positioned as
part of a spectrum of treatment for mental health and
disorders that also included treatment and maintenance
(Mrazek & Haggerty, 1994). This framework has been
adapted successfully by many youth development pro-
grams seeking to ameliorate the difficulties experi-
enced by children and families (Dryfoos, 1990, 1997;
Weissberg et al., 2003).
In the IOM preventive intervention research cycle,
the first step is to identify the problem and/or disor-
der(s) and review the information. For the Gilmore
School, the first step of a researcher or practitioner who
was interested in providing some kind of best practice
would be to gain epidemiological information about the
disorder. In this instance, as we were the experts
working with the Gilmore School, we saw the schools
problem (or disorder) as being focused on issues of so-
cial competence and social skills, that is, getting along
with others. A researcher from another discipline, such
as sociology or economics, could frame and diagnose the
problem differently. From our perspective, based on
what we were told by teachers and staff at the Gilmore,
the school suffered from a series of relationship ill-
nesses: Teachers struggled with behavior management,
students struggled to get along with peers, and adminis-
trators tried to address behavior issues while feeling
enormous pressure to meet academic standards.
At the student level, Robert lacks impulse control and
pushes back physically at Jamil instead of using words to
solve his problem. Social exclusion is acute; both Robert
and Reanna feel isolated from their peers. Most of their
interactions with the other students are unfriendly, and
they are socially miserable. In response, Robert fights
and Reanna withdraws into books. And, although Re-
annas withdrawal may help her academically, in the fu-
ture she may lack the appropriate social skills to move
forward in developing positive friendships. Neither
Robert nor Reanna seems to know how to interact with
other children their age, and both have difficulties jug-
gling teachers expectations of behavior.
At the teacher level, none of the teachers at the
Gilmore knows for sure how to manage the kids. Ms. Li
is kind but ineffective. She feels powerless to stop Re-
anna from being socially bullied, so she prefers to go
home at the end of the day rather than try to come up
with inadequate ways to stop the harassment. She re-
members this type of relational aggression when she
was in school, but even as an adult she admits she has no
idea how to go about preventing it. In contrast, Ms. Mc-
Carthy chooses to punish the children for their physical
conflictsno recess for 2 weeksinstead of teaching
conflict resolution and fostering connections between
the kids. She relies on peer pressure to change her stu-
dents behavior, but these students are not relating to
each other in positive ways. As a result, the lessons they
learn from each other will be negative ones, such as
Robert blaming Jamil for causing the recess ban. Inter-
estingly, we noticed that Ms. Lis response bore a strong
Case Study 1: The School Has a Mental Health Problem, Can It Be Treated? 389
resemblance to Reannas strategy of withdrawing, and
Ms. McCarthys was remarkably similar to Jamils and
Roberts of pushing back.
The school adjustment counselor, Ms. Curtis, recog-
nizes that families need to be involved if the school
wants to solve student behavioral issues. But the fami-
lies in this neighborhood are overstressed: Not enough
economic and social supports exist to help them. As a
result, they lack the time and energy to come to the
school and sometimes dont understand why their par-
ticipation is so important. Ms. Curtiss role in the
school is reduced to seeing individual students one-on-
one. Without more administrative support and funding,
she lacks the resources to organize schoolwide social
competence programs or develop teacher education pro-
grams on the topic of behavioral management. Further-
more, her clinical training primarily equipped her to
deal with students individually; she is not sure shed be
able to organize a school program even if it was re-
quested. What topics would she focus on? How would
she help teachers and students?
From the principals perspective, the social problems
and academic problems of the students are separate. De-
spite paying lip service to the notion that students can-
not function well academically when their social lives
and relationships are a mess, Mr. Martinez prefers to
focus on the immediate problem he faces: the need to get
the school operating at a better level of performance.
Ms. McCarthys complaints are seen as nagging. Ulti-
mately, both Mr. Martinez and Ms. McCarthy blame the
current crop of students: This year is worse than ever.
For better or worse, we have diagnosed a problem in
the school on both the community and individual levels.
We believe the problems faced by the students and
teachers in this school are not unique. In diagnosing
these problems, we do not want to come across as pathol-
ogizing the individuals involved; all of the teachers and
staff in this school face a hard task, and trying to figure
out what is best for their students individually and as a
whole is daunting. Mr. Martinez is doing the best he
can to turn around a failing school. Ms. Li and Ms.
McCarthy just want their students to get along and re-
spect their authority. Similarly, the school hierarchy,
lack of parental involvement, and a clinical training that
emphasized individual rather than systematic problem-
solving prevent Ms. Curtis from making progress. Fi-
nally, Jamil, Robert, and Reanna are negotiating their
social worlds the best they know how.
What can these individuals do differently in their
lives? Howwould they knowthe best thing to do in a given
social situation? What individual, family, school, and
systemwide intervention is needed to solve the Gilmore
Schools distress? It seems to us that although schools
have begun to learn howto solve the problemof lack of lit-
eracy skillsand they are having a tough enough time
trying to do thatthey are still at a complete loss as to
how to manage social problems. Even if they had the
funding to develop a wide-scale approach, how would a
school negotiate the wide variety of programs available to
them? What criteria would they use to choose?
How Can the Institute of Medicine Model Help
the Gilmore School?
The second and third steps of the IOM model recommend
that research should lead the way toward developing an
intervention. First, by evaluating the existing literature
on school climate, social competence, and youth develop-
ment, the prevention program should choose a theoretical
model that will guide the intervention. Next, based on a
model and research, the program should design the neces-
sary activities, hire staff, get cooperation from the site,
and choose the methodology they will use to do formative
and evaluative research. In the fourth and fifth steps, the
program should move toward designing large-scale trials
of the program and eventually provide a manual outlining
the program and delineating core elements and character-
istics (Mrazek & Haggerty, 1994).
The benefit of the model is that it focuses on inter-
ventions that can be implemented at a scale that will af-
fect not only individuals but also populations beyond
individuals. For instance, in this first case, the Gilmore
School, our initial point of departure was the desire to
improve the mental health and social development of the
children in the school through thoughtful services. Over
time, however, our concerns mounted as we worked with
students and teachers struggling to live in and be sup-
ported in a school with a vulnerable social atmosphere.
We realized we had to think beyond the individual stu-
dent at the Gilmore; one-on-one interventions were not
stemming the tide of behavioral and social competence
issues that permeated every hallway of the school.
The strategy we articulated was to use the IOM
framework to seek mature outside preventive inter-
ventions from a range of options, each with its own the-
oretical framework and evidence base. In our case,
390 Risk and Prevention
we reviewed the literature on prevention programs
(Weissberg et al., 2003) and also examined research
that emphasized positive youth development programs.
Rather than focus only on the risks children face, these
programs seek to develop the positive influences
in childrens lives that can help promote positive
outcomes (Catalano et al., 2002). For the Gilmore
School, we needed a program that not only would help
ameliorate the mental and social problems of future
students of the school but that would also promote pos-
itive development among the students who were cur-
rently enrolled. In other words, we needed to focus on
helping students in the present as well as in the fu-
turecombining intervention (a k a treatment ) with
prevention.
Some Possible Choices
What are some possible options for the Gilmore School?
How should we, as the schools doctors, the so-called
experts, proceed toward making a recommendation of
how the school should solve its social and behavioral
problems? It is important to keep in mind that many
schools are left on their own to make these types of
intervention decisions. Some cities have begun school-
reform programs that focus on social-emotional compe-
tence and decreasing negative attitudes and behaviors
(see, e.g., the Reading, Writing, Respect, and Resolution
[4Rs] program currently being evaluated in several New
York City public schools). But many schools, like the
Gilmore, are left to find their way through a confusing
landscape of options as best they can. How do they know
which programs will work? How much do the various
programs cost, and what will they get for their money?
These are critical questions from a practice perspective.
Researchers understand that although two programs
may rest on the same fundamental research base, their
approach and choice of solution may depend on their
theoretical orientation, that is, a program that is based
on socioemotional learning versus one that views a
school as a community. Neither approach is wrong and
in fact may share many common attributes, yet for prac-
titioners it can create confusion about which one is best.
The realization that even experts may have vastly differ-
ent points of view about the development of social com-
petence in children, for example, is frustrating and can
lead practitioners to doubt the benefit of research.
One option for schools is to turn to CASEL. Under
the current direction of Roger P. Weissberg and based in
the Department of Psychology at the University of Illi-
nois, Chicago, CASEL partners with researchers and
practitioners in the fields of social and emotional learn-
ing, prevention, positive youth development, service
learning, character education, and education reform. It
does not develop or market educational programs, but
rather brings together the work of different researchers
across disciplines to promote social and emotional
learning. In 2003, it recommended 22 programs across
the country that are effective in promoting social and
emotional learning and providing staff development
(CASEL, 2003).
Even with an array of programs to choose from, and
a fairly solid guarantee that the programs are benefi-
cial, schools need to decide which one is best for their
particular situation. Should the intervention take place
only within classrooms or across schools and communi-
ties? Should it work with school staff and students
only, or include families? What does it cost? How long
does it take to be implemented? Will it focus on con-
flict resolution, violence and drug prevention, the pro-
motion of social learning, or a combination of different
approaches? These are just some of the questions Mr.
Martinez needs to have answered. Even though all of
the programs CASEL recommends have been outcome-
evaluated and are research-based, each has its own par-
ticular agenda.
Although there are many programs to choose from,
this chapter focuses on four programs in depth. Our in-
tention is not to evaluate the programs, but to illustrate
the ways developmental, applied developmental, and clin-
ical psychology research can be (and have been) inte-
grated with other disciplines and translated into practice.
Second Step
Second Step (Committee for Children, 2005) is an ele-
mentary school violence prevention curriculum focused
on developing three competencies in children: empathy,
impulse control /problem solving, and anger manage-
ment. Studies of Second Step suggest that students of
different age groups from kindergarten through sixth
grade demonstrated increased positive interactions and
empathy, a decline in anxious and depressed behavior,
and less disruptive, hostile, and aggressive behavior
(Frey, Nolen, Van Schoiack-Edstrom, & Hirschstein,
2001; Grossman et al., 1997; Orpinas, Parcel, McAlis-
ter, & Frankowski, 1995).
Second Steps goals for children are to recognize
and understand their own feelings, keep anger from es-
Case Study 1: The School Has a Mental Health Problem, Can It Be Treated? 391
calating into violence, and make positive rather than
negative behavior choices. In addition, Second Step
aims to help teachers recognize and deal with class-
room disruptions and behavior issues. Because Second
Step is prepackaged and requires very little teacher
preparation time, it seems easy for teachers to follow,
and the recommended time commitment is 30 minutes
several times a week. Products for purchase in elemen-
tary school include puppets for role-playing (e.g., the
Slow-Down Snail helps children stop and think before
acting or speaking), videos, and photo lesson cards.
Teachers use stories as the basis of a lesson (e.g., on the
theme of anger management), and visuals are used to
depict childrens faces in the social situation to display
feelings and help young students make the link be-
tween the face, the feeling, and the story (Committee
for Children, 2005).
In theory, Second Step could be utilized to solve
schoolwide as well as individual problems. For instance,
to change the Gilmore Schools climate from one of pun-
ishment to problem solving, teachers could come to
agreement around behavior management. Instead of ban-
ning recess, teachers could assign reflection sheets
that prompt students with behavior issues to walk back
through the incident and think of a better solution. This
could arm the students with the skills needed to proac-
tively address social problems and potentially change
future behavior, instead of simply punishing them after
the fact. As a reward, students would be given an I am
a Second Step Star button. Signs listing the problem-
solving steps would be posted in the recess area so that
paraprofessionals, students, and even lunch mothers
would be aware of the format. The signs would also com-
municate the Second Step values to visiting community
members and parents.
Students like Robert would be helped by a change in
the language of behavior management (emphasizing stu-
dent reflection rather than punishment). Teachers and
students would partner to reflect on behaviors and plans
for the future, opening communication. Reflections
help students understand why they are being singled out
for behavior changes and would prevent them from feel-
ing frustrated that they have no voice in the development
of consequences.
At the classroom level, although the program includes
some standardized lessons (e.g., anger management),
there is also room for teachers to tailor lessons to spe-
cific conflict situations. For instance, Ms. Li could
create a lesson card for the class to role-play issues of
social exclusion to expose the emotions involved and
encourage empathy. The curriculum is specific about
problem-solving steps that are needed to resolve the con-
flict productively.
Mr. Martinez and Ms. McCarthy would be pleased
with a social problem-solving program that is consistent
across the whole school. Progress made in the classroom
could be continued at recess, in halls, and at home be-
cause other staff and families would be informed of the
values and strategies the children were learning. Stu-
dents of different grades would learn similar strategies
and could employ them at recess and after school.
The cost of Second Step is fairly reasonable. Al-
though kits can be purchased for each grade, a compre-
hensive preschool through grade 5 kit costs around $900
(Committee for Children, 2005).
Social Development Research Group
The Social Development Research Group (SDRG) is
affiliated with the School of Social Work at the Univer-
sity of Washington in Seattle. There are several inter-
ventions associated with SDRG; one that we consider
to be relevant to the Gilmore School is the Raising
Healthy Children (RHC) project (SDRG, 2004a). An
8-year intervention funded by the National Institute on
Drug Abuse, RHC was designed to promote school suc-
cess as a protective factor that promotes healthy child
and adolescent development and prevents problem be-
haviors (Catalano et al., 2003). During the 2002/2003
school year, this intervention was running only in the
Edmonds School District in Washington, but other dis-
tricts throughout the country could presumably adapt
its principles and publications. RHC, unlike Second
Step, is a district-oriented program that works with all
elementary, middle, and high schools within the dis-
trict. It focuses its attention on parents as well as
schools to promote positive development. Parents can
attend workshops, such as How to Help Your Child
Succeed in School, Raising Healthy Children, and
Moving into Middle School. During the high school
years, parents are even offered home visits that rein-
force the training sessions they attended earlier
(SDRG, 2004a).
Teachers and school administrators, on the other
hand, receive training that helps them keep the school
atmosphere focused on learning, not just identification
of problem behaviors. Positive social interactions are
praised and students are encouraged to remain involved
and work in small teams to help each other learn. RHC
392 Risk and Prevention
research suggests that these methods provide an atmo-
sphere in which children feel good about themselves and
their ability to learn (Catalano et al., 2003).
Unlike Second Step, however, RHC is less of a pack-
aged curriculum that schools could follow easily. The
program would have to be specifically adapted to the
Boston Public School district and extended beyond its
current existence in a Washington-area school district.
The cost of adapting RHC to the district (with the pro-
grams permission and supervision) is difficult to calcu-
late, although funding opportunities may be available
through the National Institute on Drug Abuse, other fed-
eral agencies, or philanthropic organizations. The grant-
writing process and application would have to be factored
into the cost and more research would be needed.
The benefits for the Gilmore School, however, could
be substantial. RHC philosophies seem to be in line with
what is needed at the Gilmore. For instance, part of the
problem at the school is a lack of positive relationships
between students and teachers (e.g., Robert, Jamil, and
Ms. McCarthy; Reanna and Ms. Li). There is also a lack
of clear, schoolwide standards for behavior and shared
decisions about classroom management. Under RHC
training, teachers would be able to begin to share strate-
gies for creating a socially appropriate classroom atmo-
sphere that would promote, rather than take away from,
the academic learning that is supposed to take place in
schools. Also, from Ms. Curtiss point of view, RHC
would be beneficial because it does not limit its inter-
vention simply to the school but works to involve par-
ents, recognizing that it is often necessary to get parents
on board when designing and implementing school-
based interventions. Whether parents would attend or
not, however, is hard to say, considering that Ms. Curtis
is having a difficult time getting them to attend even
parent-teacher conferences.
Although books and other curriculum materials are
available for purchase, teachers and administrators
would have to spend a substantial amount of time figur-
ing out how the program could be adapted in the district.
Although the SDRG programs and research base seems
in line with the Gilmores needs, the practical applica-
tion of the program would be a district decision, involv-
ing the Boston superintendent as well his cluster leaders.
Promoting Alternative Thinking Strategies
The Promoting Alternative Thinking Strategies (PATHS;
Greenberg, Kusch, & Mihalic, 1998) program is a
Ksixth-grade violence prevention program affiliated
with Pennsylvania State University and sold by a com-
mercial publisher, Channing-Bete. Named as one of 10
Blueprints for Violence Prevention by the U.S. Depart-
ment of Justice and the Center for the Study and Preven-
tion of Violence, PATHS is in place in more than 500
schools throughout the world. Like Second Step, PATHS
teaches children nonviolent conflict resolution strategies,
to stop and think before acting, and to manage and ex-
press their emotions. For teachers, PATHS can be easily
integrated into existing classrooms, and the timing and
frequency of the lessons can be adapted based on the
teachers needs. The curriculum comes with an instruc-
tors manual as well as a curriculum guide that includes
information on how to present the lessons, an over-
view of the important concepts to get across, and a list
of necessary materials. Furthermore, PATHS is fairly
cost-effective: A complete program costs around $700
(Greenberg et al., 1998).
For the students, PATHS provides them with ways to
evaluate their responses to conflict so that they can
learn to prevent future incidences. For the teachers, it
recommends that they stop and think about their feel-
ings before responding with yelling or punishment or
other negative strategies. Clinical trials have shown de-
creases in teacher reports of student aggressive behav-
ior and increases in teacher reports of self-control as
well as students emotional vocabularies and cognitive
skill test scores (Greenberg et al., 1998; Greenberg,
Kusch, Cook, & Quamma, 1995; Greenberg et al.,
2003). This would be good news to both Ms. McCarthy
and Ms. Li. Furthermore, because the curriculum
would be schoolwide, Mr. Martinez could feel confident
that all teachers were following the same behavior man-
agement strategies.
Developmental Studies Center: Child
Development Project
The fourth and final program we discuss is the Devel-
opmental Studies Center Child Development Project
(CDP, 2003). Rather than focus on student problem be-
haviors, CDP tries to revamp school climate to create
communities of learners. The Developmental Studies
Center provides whole-school training in social and
ethical as well as academic development. The CDPs
focus is on improving school design to improve stu-
dents literacy skills as well as relational connections
among students, teachers, and administrative staff. It
Case Study 1: The School Has a Mental Health Problem, Can It Be Treated? 393
has created a literacy program that combines decoding
with reading comprehension through the use of literacy
activities such as guided reading, group reading, and
individual instruction (CDP, 2003). In addition,
CDP works to train teachers as well as administrators
in how to foster a positive school climate. Like the
other programs we introduced, CDP has been evaluated
for positive outcomes (Battistich, Schaps, Watson, &
Solomon, 1996; Solomon, Battistich, Watson, Schaps,
& Lewis, 2000).
CDPs focus on literacy as well as social develop-
ment would appeal to Mr. Martinez, as he is primarily
focused on raising students performance on academic
tests. In addition, CDP staff provide development and
consulting services to assist in implementation, reliev-
ing the Gilmore staff from having to worry about adapt-
ing a packaged curriculum to their school. However, to
successfully implement CDP, a school must commit over
several years to its program and to ongoing professional
development. Furthermore, the cost to the school is indi-
vidually negotiated with the school and the district,
depending on the program elements that would be used
and the type of support, services, or materials that are
required. Mr. Martinez would need to explore whether
CDP was cost-effective compared to the other pro-
grams. Yet, CDP also provides assistance in identifying
grants that could be available for schools and districts
and even offers a grant-writing service to help schools
apply for them (CDP, 2003).
Implementation
Each of these four programs is research-based. That is,
they have not only been empirically evaluated with re-
gard to positive outcomes, but their ideas, models, and
implementation rest firmly on solid theoretical and em-
pirical foundations in academic disciplines such as so-
cial psychology, developmental psychology, and even
cultural anthropology. Yet, although each has been ac-
knowledged as a top program in the United States, the
founders, practitioners, and researchers affiliated with
each intervention are not equally invested in the man-
agement process of implementing the interventions in
school systems.
In the process of development, each intervention (and
their founders, both practitioners and researchers) had
to decide where it wanted to spend its time and energy.
Research and practice do not always go hand in hand;
it is extremely difficult to design and implement pro-
grams, run training sessions, and sell products while
also initiating new practice-inspired research projects,
writing grant proposals, and managing data collection
and analysis. Once the effectiveness of a program has
been proven, its dissemination usually depends on a
committed principal investigator who decides to repli-
cate the study with larger samples over time, works
with policymakers to ensure a steady stream of funding,
and pushes for implementation. In the world of acade-
mia, program implementation, even for the most well-
regarded research, is not always praised; there is an ex-
pectation that researchers must continue to break new
ground conducting research and publishing findings
(Rotheram-Borus & Duan, 2003).
So each program we presented had (at one time or
another) decided what type of social development in-
tervention it wished to be. Would it become market-
oriented, for example, geared toward meeting the needs
of school systems? Or would it contract the business to
outside vendors and concentrate on designing and re-
searching future interventions and doing basic re-
search? Among the four programs we have discussed,
there is a split down the middle. For instance, Second
Step and Developmental Studies Center are business-
oriented, market-driven programs. They are not affili-
ated with any one particular university; Developmental
Studies Center conducts its own practice-driven re-
search while contracting with school systems to pro-
vide both curriculum materials and professional
development. With excellent random assignment out-
come evaluations already under its belt (Solomon et al.,
2000), Developmental Studies Center has recently
turned its attention to doing research that is more for-
mative, focused on identifying the best practices that
create a sense of community in schools (Schaps, 2003).
Second Step, on the other hand, hires outside re-
searchers to conduct independent evaluations. This re-
search, like that of Developmental Studies Center, is
primarily driven by the needs of practice. At this point
in their evolution, both programs are geared toward is-
sues of implementation, be it marketing and selling so-
cial skills products or promoting positive school
climates with teacher professional development.
PATHS and SDRG are structured differently. They
are affiliated with universities and are less hands-on
than Second Step and CDP. The PATHS research
base, for instance, is considered one of several middle
394 Risk and Prevention
childhood projects in the Prevention Research Center
(PRC) at Pennsylvania State University. Currently, the
PRC seems less interested in trying to sell a curriculum
or work with school systems to implement it, and more
interested in continuing to do both applied and basic re-
search (PRC, 2003).
The ways and means of implementing SDRG are not
obvious when you visit the organizations Web site.
Like the Prevention Research Center, the Social Devel-
opment Research Group is located in a university and
is a collaboration of researchers sharing common
research goals. For these programs, success is not mea-
sured by selling a curriculum; instead, like most uni-
versity-based research programs, they live off grants,
doing practice-oriented research on system change and
writing publications. The most recent intervention pro-
gram at SDRG, for instance, is a 5-year study designed
to test the effectiveness of the Communities That Care
system, an intervention designed to reduce violence,
drug abuse, and dropout while fostering healthy devel-
opment by working at the community level (Hawkins &
Catalano, 2003). The outcome research will be funded
by several federal agencies (i.e., the National Institute
on Drug Abuse and the National Institute on Mental
Health) and will involve the participation of treat-
ment and control communities across seven states
(SDRG, 2004b).
So, what program did the Gilmore eventually choose?
As it turned out, the Massachusetts Department of Pub-
lic Health awarded $5 million to the Boston Public
Schools to implement a district wide violence-prevention
program. Senior administrators decided that Second
Step was the best fit for the targeted schools in the city.
Funds were used to bring in professional development
from Second Step and to hire social skills coaches,
akin to literacy coaches, and certain schools, including
the Gilmore, were selected to participate. Second Step
was implemented in the district until the money ran out a
few years later. Currently, neither Second Step nor any
other prevention program is in use at the Gilmore. Sec-
ond Steps principles seem to have disappeared, like
many other reform efforts that fail to thrive in urban
schools. Although Second Step may still be used in other
Boston schools, at the Gilmore we have not seen it in ac-
tion, nor has it been spoken of by any of the teachers in
recent years.
The ending to this story suggests that the implemen-
tation process at the Gilmore was less than ideal. Unfor-
tunately, this may be all too common in disorganized
schools, where there are schoolwide discipline problems,
high rates of suspension, low student attendance, and
low faculty morale (Gottfredson, Jones, & Gore, 2002).
It is disappointing, yet not surprising, that mental health
intervention programs are often less successful pre-
cisely in the contexts where they are most needed. The
implementation of school-based programs can vary
widely from school to school and even from classroom to
classroom. When the Resolving Conflicts Creatively
program was implemented in New York, for example,
some teachers taught the program frequently and with
fidelity to program goals. Other schools and teachers
did not embrace the program as enthusiastically. The
dosage and level of buy-in of the program at the class-
room level had an effect on the success of the program at
the student level (Aber, Brown, Chaudry, Jones, & Sam-
ples, 1996; Aber et al., 2003; Brown, Roderick, Lantieri,
& Aber, 2004).
Recently, Wandersman and his colleagues (Wanders-
man & Florin, 2003; Wandersman, Imm, Chinman, &
Kaftarian, 2000) have come up with an approach to pro-
gram implementation, Getting to Outcomes (GTO), that
suggests positive outcomes depend on several factors.
They have devised a fairly comprehensive list of ac-
countability questions that need to be asked before, dur-
ing, and after program implementation and they map out
the steps from conducting a needs assessment to evalua-
tion program success and sustainability.
It is important, for example, to look at who makes the
decisions about implementation. One of the problems at
the Gilmore was the extent to which the school bought
into the program. It was unclear, for instance, whether
Second Step was a program that met the schools needs
(as the faculty and staff would describe them), or
whether it was something that someone else (in this
case, the district) told them they had to do. One question
that should be asked, therefore, is What is the best pro-
cess for working with schools and communities in the
decision-making process?
For instance, although the teachers and administra-
tors at the Gilmore clearly needed help, they tended to
respond to individual crises as they emerged rather than
develop plans to anticipate and solve behavioral prob-
lems at a school level. When the district sent Second
Step to the school, it is doubtful the faculty saw the pro-
gram as one with which they needed to partner. Too
often, outside programs are viewed either with skepti-
Case Study 1: The School Has a Mental Health Problem, Can It Be Treated? 395
cism (as yet another reform effort with which schools
must comply and that will go away eventually) or as a
magic bullet that will immediately and easily solve all
their problems. The Gilmore may also have realized that
not all schools in Boston received Second Step and felt
like the poorly performing sibling in the school district
family. Assessing a schools readiness to participate in
prevention programs seems to be an important prelimi-
nary step to implementation that is often overlooked
(Brown, Roderick, Lantieri, & Aber, 2004; Wandersman
et al., 2000).
A second important issue Wandersman et al. (2000)
point out is that all prevention programs need to have di-
verse streams of funding. By relying entirely on funds
from the Massachusetts Department of Public Health,
the Boston school district seemed to have set themselves
up for disappointment: The program ended when the
funding ran out. Sustainability is a term we hear often in
the field of mental health, particularly as it applies to
prevention and evaluation, and the challenges of sustain-
ability are evident in the failure to keep the program in
place at the Gilmore.
Sustainability, however, refers not only to funding,
but also to the ability to train teachers and faculty suc-
cessfully in the program. Ideally, if the school em-
braced Second Step fully, and if the program was
successful, the teachers would not need any additional
funding or coaching to continue the program at the
school. The programs pedagogy would be embedded in
the day-to-day classroom practices of the teacher
and reinforced by the overall school climate. The
school would then own the program and in time
maybe even forget that they learned these ideas from
Second Step in the first place. Clearly, then, extensive
training and skill at the teacher and school level
is needed for prevention programs to achieve desired
outcomes (Brown et al., 2004; Gottfredson et al.,
2002). However, this can be especially challenging
in environments where teachers have experienced
burnout, are skeptical of new ideas coming from the
top, and where typical classrooms are characterized by
off-task time and poor student attendance (Gottfredson
et al., 2002).
Urban schools face tough issues at the individual, dis-
trict, and national levels. We hope the Gilmore Schools
case points to the persistent gap that still exists between
research and practice and the challenges we face when
we try to bridge this gap. There is a strong need for ap-
plied researchers to work in close and ongoing partner-
ship with the sites where they work.
The Tension of Research, Practice, Service,
and Training
When we first began working with the Gilmore School,
we, too, had our own agenda. On the one hand, we
wished to provide a training sitea practicumfor
masters-level practice-focused students who wished to
gain experience working in schools and with children.
On the other hand, we also wished to gain a foothold
within the school to further our own research. Basic re-
search in clinical and developmental psychology, after
all, needs not only participants but also new ideas. The
Gilmore, along with other schools in the Boston system,
was an active environment within which we could con-
duct research.
Like many similar research/practice partnerships,
our plan may seem colonialistic. We intended to take
from the Gilmoreto do research within its wallsand
in return we would give service provided by our in-
terns under supervision. Both parties agreed to the idea;
in fact, the Gilmore administration was happy with the
quid pro quo approach. The organizations that provided
funding for our project literally and figuratively bought
into our plan, as did all the necessary university organi-
zations (e.g., human subjects review) through which any
research project has to progress.
Although we intended to work within the Gilmore
doing research, truthfully the opportunity to provide a
practicum site for masters-level interns was a primary
goal. From Mr. Martinezs perspective, the Gilmore
would receive both the practical experience of free (or
at least, no direct cost) interns and the expert advice of
a university partnership. Mr. Martinezs teachers, how-
ever, were skeptical of our arrival. They questioned
what services interns could provide in 1 yearwould
they be helpful, or would their presence translate into
more work for the teachers? The status of a university
partnership was not a plus for the teachers; they felt they
were under enough scrutiny to improve childrens aca-
demic performance without interns and/or researchers
giving more advice or taking their time.
At the time, it did not occur to us exactly how
the Gilmore would contribute to our thinking or be more
than a context in which to provide service and conduct
research. In the years since we first entered the
396 Risk and Prevention
Gilmore, however, we have begun to question the stance
with which we entered the partnership. We also began to
wonder about broader, discipline-wide assumptions re-
garding the relationship of research to practice. In
the fields of child and adolescent psychology (and psy-
chiatry), how can the experience and knowledge of the
practitioner, whose primary mission is the healthy de-
velopment and education of children and adolescents,
best be integrated with the expertise of the researcher,
whose primary mission is to generate fundamental
knowledge about development during childhood and
adolescence? Can we serve in both these roles? What
part, then, does the applied researcher play?
We realized that certain basic issues, such as knowl-
edge about the development of pathways of individuals
from different social backgrounds, or the relationships
among thought, language, and action in social relation-
ships, are of interest to both researchers and practition-
ers alike. However, although both groups share a common
interest in improving outcomes for children, very often
the communication among these professionshow one
can learn from the othercould be improved. As a disci-
pline, we need to connect the researchers scientific
knowledge of childhood and adolescence with the practi-
tioners everyday experiential and clinical knowledge of
children and adolescents. We need the practitioners role
of consumer and the researchers role of knowledge
producer to shift to one of true partner, each learning
and teaching one another.
To bridge this gap, in our second case we continue to
examine how researchers build connections with prac-
titioners and policymakers, using the Gilmore School
as our context. However, we shift our focus from the
first case, where we put ourselves in the position of
the practitioner: specifically, diagnosticians and pre-
scribers of research-based interventions. Now, we
take the perspective of practice-based researchers,
whose interests are both fundamental and applied. As
applied developmental psychologists, we are interested
in the degree to which the promotion of self and social
awareness as individual competencies in childhood can
serve as psychosocial protectors against negative life
outcomes such as mental illness and prejudicial atti-
tudes, as well as ways to optimize human development
and potential. As fundamental researchers, we are in-
terested in studying psychological and social develop-
ment in all its complexity. Often, the fundamental
researcher receives inspiration from practice to study
social processes and problems, while the applied re-
searcher focuses on ways to design and evaluate ap-
proaches to solve them. Yet, in both instances, we are
interested in the interdisciplinary and interprofessional
collaborations that best serve the interests of children
growing up.
Nothing which is true or beautiful or good makes complete
sense in any immediate context of history;
therefore we must be saved by faith.
Reinhold Niebuhr (1952)
CASE STUDY 2: PRACTICE-EMBEDDED
RESEARCHMOVING FROM RESEARCH
TO PRACTICE TO POLICY AND
BACK AGAIN
The second case in this chapter tells the story of our
current intellectual journey from research, to practice,
to policy and back again to research. By using our own
work as examples, we do not intend to aggrandize our
initiatives but to demonstrate why we conceptualize the
partnership of research and practice in the prevention
field differently from the way many researchers, as well
as practitioners in this field, tend to think about it. It has
often seemed to us as though our expeditionfrom re-
search to practice to policyhas been like a metaphori-
cal set of travels along a tidal river.
Over the past 30 years, a loosely formed collabora-
tive we call the Group for the Study of Interpersonal
Development (GSID) has studied the development of
social and ethical awareness in children and their links
to social action and conduct, always in conjunction with
efforts to promote them. Our earliest efforts focused
on the psychological treatment of those youth who al-
ready were burdened with severe psychiatric disorders
and psychological problems (Selman, 1980; Selman &
Schultz, 1990). Subsequently, we adapted these ap-
proaches to youth who were identified (targeted) as at
risk for these psychological difficulties (Selman et al.,
1997). For the past decade we have focused on primary
or universal prevention, often working with students in
schools (Selman, 2003; Selman & Adalbjarnardottir,
2000; Selman et al., 1992, 1997). Like the four pro-
grams profiled in the first part of this chapter, we were
researchers embedded in practice, although less driven
by the needs of practitioners as oriented toward them.
Our most recent preventative strategy was to inte-
grate the promotion of childrens social competence di-
Case Study 2: Practice-Embedded ResearchMoving from Research to Practice to Policy and Back Again 397
3
Our partner in this endeavor was Voices of Love and Free-
dom (VLF), a literacy-based character education program
based in Boston under the direction of Patrick Walker. See
Selman (2003) for more information on VLF.
rectly into the heart of mainstream educationinto the
academic literacy practiceas a way to prevent social
isolation and miscommunication (Selman, 2003). Up
until this point, our model had been used to understand
one-on-one social interactions between two individuals,
for example, interpersonal development. By moving our
ideas into a curriculum, we hoped to scale up our inter-
vention and see if and how it applied to intergroup de-
velopment, that is, childrens understanding of relations
within and between groups such as those from different
cultures and identity groups.
Our method of delivery was to identify high-quality
childrens literature, in particular stories that have pow-
erful social themes, and to design research-based teach-
ers guides for these texts.
3
The books were chosen
to appeal to students who come from diverse back-
grounds, and the guides focused on exercises to promote
students social understanding and skills. Books were
selected and accompanying guides were designed for
grades K6 (Selman, 2003).
In the late 1990s, we began working with Angela Bur-
gos, a fifth-grade teacher at the Gilmore, as she imple-
mented the literacy curriculum that incorporated
reading comprehension, vocabulary, and writing skills
as well as a heavy dose of social skills training and so-
cial awareness promotion. We wanted to know whether
our framework was effective, whether it would be
supported by evidence, and whether it would have a
detectable effect on practice. We were primarily con-
cerned with steps 1 through 3 of the IOM model: We had
an idea about the scope (incidence and prevalence) of
the problem, we wished to explore it in depth, and we
had designed several pilot studies to begin the research
process. As part of our partnership with the Gilmore,
the school became the context in which we would ex-
plore our ideas.
When we entered this partnership and we adapted the
developmental frameworka guide for understanding
childrens social developmentto a practice-based
method of literacy instruction, this represented to us a
modest flow from theory to evidence, then to practice,
and then back up the river again to theory. We had made
this kind of journey twice before; in fact, the theory
of peer relationships and interpersonal development
stemmed from years of going back and forth between
practice and research (Selman, 2003).
This time, we started in the knowledge pool at the
confluence of developmental, cultural, and social psy-
chology and flowed down toward the delta of practice.
Specifically, we were interested in exploring whether
our framework of childrens social development could
help promote students comprehension of stories they
read during language arts classes. Could the lessons stu-
dents learn from reading literature that deals with social
justice, for instance, influence their own lives? Alterna-
tively, does their own understanding of social issues in-
fluence their comprehension of these stories? These
were the questions that guided our research in the
Gilmore School.
As we demonstrated in our first case, when we en-
tered the Gilmoreexpecting to apply our model, pro-
vide service, collect some data, and return upstream to
our laboratory for analysiswe were unprepared for the
reality of doing applied research in schools in todays
educational climate. For example, we ran into a conflu-
ence of political and policy issues, such as the increasing
focus on literacy standards, the No Child Left Behind
Act, and the economy of the state of Massachusetts and
its influence on school budgets. A multitude of political
and research agendas were waiting to divert funding and
attention away from our interests. The day-to-day deci-
sions faced by the Gilmore School, like many schools
across the United States, not only would affect the indi-
vidual students and teachers within the school, but were
representative of the wider concerns facing the educa-
tional community and the role of developmental and cul-
tural psychology in contributing to this field.
We did not, however, hold the conviction that we were
the experts. We did not naively believe that our research
could remain uncontaminated by political, economic,
and social forces. Although intellectually we understood
that contexts such as family, neighborhood, and environ-
ment played a role in the development of social compe-
tence, we knew we did not fully comprehend the extent
to which a schools climate, the concerns of its teachers,
and the complexity of a school system could have an im-
pact on the children. We viewed developmental psychol-
ogy as the domain of the individual, not the school
system, but hoped through the application process to
learn more about the link between the two.
Nevertheless, in our work at the Gilmore we experi-
enced an identity crisis that was relevant to ourselves as
398 Risk and Prevention
well as the larger field of child psychology. Were we
basic researchers who happened to work in a school? Or
were we applied researchers with a strong theory and
research knowledge base? These are simple questions
to ask, but not so easy to answer. Although many of us
in the field of developmental psychology might be re-
luctant to admit there is a gap between these two identi-
ties, we often run into instances that challenge this
assumption. In the field of social development, for ex-
ample, there are many well-published applied re-
searchers whose research interests center on designing,
applying, and evaluating prevention and intervention
programs. The work of this group of researchers is
highly prized by practitioners because they can easily
translate their research into practices that may quickly
and directly improve the lives of children. On the other
hand, a different group of researchers may do ground-
breaking basic research in cognitive science that could
someday have implications for improving practice, but
they have little expertise in talking with teachers about
how to improve students social competence, little
knowledge of social policy, and little experience in
working with children. Which type of research is more
valuable in todays environment? What type of re-
searcher did we wish to be? Could one be both?
This case is designed to reframe this dichotomy. In-
stead of choosing sides in the debate, we have struggled
to maintain both identities. Doing so has not been with-
out its challenges, as we will point out, but we have
found that the rewards of bridging this gap have far out-
weighed the problems. By keeping a foot in both camps,
we have learned to appreciate what both the applied and
the basic researcher bring to the field.
From Research to Practice: The Integration of
a Theory of Interpersonal and Intergroup
Development into a Literacy Curriculum
We worked with Angela Burgos class for several
months in the late 1990s as she implemented the liter-
acy/social skills curriculum. Following the IOM model,
we collected data (step 3) in the form of videotaped
classroom discussions, teacher interviews, and home-
work. The following passages come from one of the
books we selected to use in this approach. The excerpt is
from a novel chosen for fifth grade, Felita, by Nicholasa
Mohr (1979, pp. 3637), which tells the experiences of a
third-grade Puerto Rican girl and her family living in
New York City in the late 1950s:
I stood on the stoop, watching the group of girls I had seen
from my window. They had stopped playing rope and were
now playing hopscotch. . . . They were having a good time,
using bottle caps and keys to toss on the chalked squares.
Hopscotch was one game I was really good at.
Hi! Hey you! a girl with short brown hair and glasses
wearing blue jeans called out. You wanna play with us?
The first chapter of the novel introduces the young
narrator, Felita, and her friends and family, who live in
a neighborhood in Spanish Harlem. Although Felita is
reluctant to leave this neighborhood, her parents are in-
tent on moving to a place with better schools and safer
streets. In Chapter 2, Felita and her family move to a
new neighborhood where few Puerto Rican families
live. Once there, Felita faces the awkwardness of mak-
ing new friends and attending a new school. Under-
standably, she is nervous. She begins to play hopscotch
with some girls on her street in the new neighborhood,
but their parents do not welcome this new girl from a
strange (Spanish-speaking) family into their commu-
nity. The childrens initial friendliness turns into
hostility and aggression once they fall under the
influence of their parents, and a painful confrontation
takes place.
The other girls all huddled together with the grown-ups.
They all spoke in low voices. I waited. Were they coming
back to play? They all stared silently at me. . . . Suddenly I
felt frightened and all alone. I wanted to get home, up-
stairs, where I would be safe with Mami. . . . Now the
adults and girls were standing in a group beside the stoop
steps. As I approached my building, I lowered my eyes and
quickened my pace. I figured I would walk around them
and get up the steps as fast as I could.
Thelma quickly stepped in front of me, blocking my way.
Why did you move here?
Why dont you stay with your own kind? Mary Beth
stood next to Thelma.
As I tried to get by them the other three girls ran up the
stoop and formed a line across the building entrance. I
turned toward the grown-ups. Some were smiling. Others
looked angry.
She should stay in her own place, right, Mama?
Cant you answer? No speak the English no more?
The grown-ups laughed.
. . . so many colors in your family. What are you?
Her mother is black and her father is white.
They aint white . . . just trying to pass!
Niggers.
Shh, dont say that.
Case Study 2: Practice-Embedded ResearchMoving from Research to Practice to Policy and Back Again 399
All right, spicks. God only knows what they are!
Let me through! I screamed.
Nobodys stopping you. Mary Beth and Thelma
stepped aside.
I took a deep breath, tried not to cry, walked up the
stoop, and began to push past the other three girls block-
ing the entrance.
Watch it! They pushed back, shoving me down a cou-
ple of steps.
Mami! I looked up at the window. No one was there.
Let me go by! I shouted.
I pushed again. I felt a sharp punch in my back and a
fist hit the side of my face. Then a wall of arms came
crashing down. I began to cry hard.
Mami . . . Mamita . . .
Here now. Thats enough! a man said.
Let her go, a woman shouted. She knows now shes
not wanted here. Girls, let her through.
As I ran past, someone pulled at my skirt and I heard it
rip. I ran up three flights of stairs, crying until I was safe
inside my apartment. I made sure the front door was bolted
behind me. I ran right into Mamis arms.
The first day Felita was introduced, Ms. Burgos en-
couraged her students to consider, What is a neighbor-
hood? The class had a conversation about what it
means to be part of a neighborhood and what it would
feel like to move to some place new and unfamiliar.
They drew pictures of their own neighborhoods, pinned
them up on the wall, and learned from Ms. Burgos
about the history of Puerto Rican immigration to spe-
cific communities in the United States. The children
engaged with the book and connected it to their own
personal experiences.
A few days later, Ms. Burgos asked her students,
How do you think Felita feels about moving to a neigh-
borhood where there are no Puerto Rican families? The
question, and the discussion that developed, was partic-
ularly meaningful to this class of Spanish-speaking
bilingual students, most of whom were recent immi-
grants. During the next 2 weeks, the students partici-
pated in learning activities centered on incidents like
the one described earlier in Chapter 2, as well as those
in Chapter 3, when Felita and her family painfully de-
cided to move back to their old neighborhood because
they could no longer endure the discrimination.
From the beginning, Angela Burgoss class was riv-
eted by Felitas story. We discovered that to the fifth
graders in the class, Felita did not always read like a
work of fiction. For these children, whose school is
in a neighborhood that had one of the highest immigra-
tion rates in the city, and who were referred to as the
Spanish class by other fifth graders in the school, Fe-
litas tale was relevant and personally meaningful.
As observers in this classroom in Boston, we saw how
powerfully the children engaged in the story, and how
the teacher connected the novel to her students personal
lives. We also realized that children seemed to vary in
their understanding of the characters motivation and
had different suggestions for dealing with the conflict.
Some children supported the familys decision to move
back to their old neighborhood. Others felt they should
have stayed and fought the discrimination. These obser-
vations led to the formulation of several questions:
What accounted for the variation we observed? Were
some of the students more sophisticated in their under-
standing of the issues faced by Felitas family? If so,
how could we systematize and validate our intuitive ob-
servations of developmental differences among the stu-
dents in the class?
When we first developed a strategy for promoting
social competence in the literacy curriculum used by
Angela Burgos, we relied on a theoretical model of psy-
chosocial understanding grounded in developmental
theory and basic empirical research. The model delin-
eates childrens developing awareness of the linkages
between the challenges or risks they face (e.g., the risk
Felita takes in challenging her persecutors) and the
important social relationships in their lives (e.g.,
Felitas family and the community in the new neighbor-
hood; Adalbjarnardottir, 2002; Levitt & Selman, 1996;
Levitt, Selman, & Richmond, 1991; Selman & Adalb-
jarnardottir, 2000). It analyzes the development and
connection of three psychological components of social
awareness:
1. The general level of understanding individuals have
about how social risks influence and are influenced
by social relationships (social knowledge).
2. The repertoire of interpersonal strategies individu-
als have available to manage these challenges (so-
cial skills).
3. The awareness individuals have of the personal mean-
ing these challenges and relationships actually have
for themselves: how they understand the actions they
take as they relate to the quality of the personal rela-
tionships they seek to form and maintain (social rela-
tionships and values).
400 Risk and Prevention
Figure 10.2 A developmental view of risk and social rela-
tionships: An analysis of three psychosocial competencies.
l
With Time and
Experience
To:
Maturity
(Capacity for Mutuality of
Social Perspective
Coordination)
Developmental Levels of
Psychosocial Competence
From:
Immaturity
(Egocentricity)
Core Social
Perspective
Awareness of the
Personal Meaning of
Risk and
Relationship
Repertoire of Risk and
Relationship Strategies
Risk and
Relationship
Theoretical
Understanding
This theoretical model asserts that the greater ones
capacity to integrate the social perspectives of oneself
and others in the context of dealing with lifes social
challenges, the better the chances of successfully navi-
gating social relationships (Selman & Schultz, 1990;
Selman et al., 1997). Figure 10.2 depicts the connection
among the components of the model in visual terms. The
broadening of this figure with age suggests that with de-
velopment, awareness within each of the three compo-
nents becomes more differentiated. It also suggests that,
with development, the components themselves become
more integrated with one another, but that there can be
regression as well as progression.
Each of the three components of this developmental
modelthe social understanding, social strategies, and
awareness of the personal meaning of relationships and
their riskshelped us to define questions in the teacher
guides and subsequently analyze the childrens re-
sponses. For example, we created reading comprehen-
sion questions that probed for each of the three
theoretical components within the model. One set of
reading comprehension/social awareness questions
specifically investigated the students understanding of
the connection between the social relationships and liv-
ing conditions in Felitas two neighborhoods by asking
the students to consider: How are Felitas new and old
neighborhoods alike? How are they different? A sec-
ond kind of reading comprehension/social awareness
question focused on students awareness of the strate-
gies the family had available to deal with the conflict in
which they found themselves, for example: What is the
problem Felita is facing? What can Felita and her family
do to deal with the way the people in the new neighbor-
hood treat them? Finally, a third reading comprehen-
sion/social awareness question evaluated how the
students interpreted what personal meaning the events in
the story had for the charactersand for themselves.
How did they understand Felitas dilemma when, in con-
versation with her grandmother, she grappled with her
decision to run away from the confrontation in the
neighborhood? Felita says to her abuelita, I never said
anything to those girls. Never. It was as if they were
right, because I just walked away, you know? What
does Felita mean?
Once we collected the responses from the students,
we explored the possibility that the students ability to
understand fictional social experiences was a window
into their ability to think about, negotiate, and make
meaning of the social risks and relationships in their
own lives. We hypothesized that students who displayed
more sophisticated social perspective-coordination
the ability to connect multiple viewpoints and think
deeply about the actions and motivations of the charac-
ters in the bookwould also display a richer under-
standing of the texts they read (Dray, 2005; Selman &
Dray, 2003). For example, we observed differences in
the way children understood the question about differ-
ences between the two neighborhoods (the social under-
standing question).
Frederico, a boy with limited English proficiency,
wrote the following response:
The kitchen was almost alike. The bilden [building] was
desein [designed] like the other bilden. The street of the
new neighborhood was clean.
Amalia, a shy girl in the class, wrote:
They are alike in the neighborhood because both the
neighborhoods had a school and some stores. They are dif-
ferent in that in the old neighborhood she got friends and
in the new neighborhood she doesnt.
Case Study 2: Practice-Embedded ResearchMoving from Research to Practice to Policy and Back Again 401
Claudia, a soft-spoken but assertive student, wrote:
The things that the new and old neighborhood had in com-
mon were the stores, schools and building. The difference
was the peoples attitudes and how they treated other peo-
ple just because they speak Spanish.
As we attempted to make sense of these responses,
they became our data. Because we believed we could
identify differences in the ways the children responded
to this question, we tackled the question of how to code
the responses both developmentally and culturally. For
example, with respect to developmentally oriented cod-
ing, each of these students answers was to some degree
accurate. As Frederico pointed out, Felitas new neigh-
borhood is cleaner, and it is true that Felitas family
originally moved in part because of the better physical
qualities of the new neighborhood. But we noted that
Frederico was focused on the impersonal qualities that
contrasted Felitas old and new communities: the build-
ings and the streets. He did not refer to the social rela-
tionships in the story: Although the family did indeed
move to the new neighborhood for the benefit of better
living conditions, they moved back because of the nega-
tive social conditions (the prejudice and discrimination
they experienced). Fredericos response did not (accord-
ing to our coding scheme) capture the arguably more im-
portant definition of a neighborhood.
Now, compare the responses of the two girls,
Amalia and Claudia. Amalia wrote, In the old neigh-
borhood she got friends and in the new neighborhood
she doesnt. Her response acknowledged that it is the
relationships among the people in each neighborhood
that were most important in the story. Unlike Fred-
erico, she was able to express her knowledge of rela-
tionships more explicitly, if not more clearly. However,
we found it intriguing that Amalia looked at the people
in each neighborhood from a self-referential perspec-
tive: They were either Felitas friends or they were not
her friends. Claudia, on the other hand, suggested that
the people in the new neighborhood had beliefs and
acted in ways that prevented Felita from making
friends: The difference was the peoples attitudes and
how they treated other people. Whereas Amalia im-
plied that someone is either a friend or not (as if by
magic), Claudias response suggested that she under-
stood that the characters internal beliefs (their atti-
tudes) drove their actions ( how they treated people).
She further implied that perhaps these attitudes and
actions were influenced by the perception of the group
Felita belonged to, a group seen by parents and kids in
the new neighborhood as being different and unwel-
come. From our theoretical perspective, Claudias re-
sponse displayed a more complex understanding of how
people become friends and the importance of trust and
actions in forming relationships. By enlarging her view
to encompass intergroup relationships, she indicated a
more sophisticated social awareness.
From Practice Back to Research: The Theory
and Promotion of Social Awareness
What do we mean by social awareness? Until now, our
theory had been successful in investigating social rela-
tionships, usually one-on-one interpersonal relation-
ships such as friendships (Selman & Schultz, 1990;
Selman et al., 1992, 1997). But, as we realized that some
children displayed an interpretation of the text that went
beyond a social understanding to a societal understand-
ing, we reexamined our original ideas. What if the the-
ory of social development that had attempted to explain
childrens understanding and strategies within friend-
ships could be expanded to help explain their under-
standing and strategies for solving questions of social
justice? This was a shift for us from not just using re-
search to support effective practice, but allowing prac-
tice to inspire theory and research.
For example, we found that two other students took
their analysis of the neighborhood differences one
step further. They pointed out qualities they believed
the girls in Felitas new neighborhood lacked. The
words they used to describe these qualities were strik-
ing to us:
They are alike because they both are calm neighborhoods.
They are both different because the people there (in the
new neighborhood) have a hard heart and they make span-
ish people miserable. (Juan)
In the old neighborhood they have the hopscotch game.
The houses are the same sides. [In the new neighborhood]
kids dont respect adults. There is no respect for each
other. There are selfish people. (Rosario)
Rosario and Juan, unlike Amalia and Claudia,
looked beyond specific actions and attitudes to identify
the important internal and enduring feelings of the
402 Risk and Prevention
people in both neighborhoods that contrasted them:
respect, selfishness, and hard hearts. Juan, for in-
stance, demonstrated to us that he perceived correctly
that the girls dislike of Felita originated from their dis-
like of anyone Spanish. Unlike Amalia, Juans under-
standing of the conflict went beyond just seeing the
girls as being friends or not friends. He was able
to express a level of awareness that included a
cultural perspective on the qualities of the neighbor-
hoods. Similarly, Rosario captured an essential mean-
ing of prejudice: that people do not respect each others
differences.
As we examined the responses to Felitas reading
comprehension questions, we focused on several devel-
opmental research questions: Were the students able to
describe how the people in the neighborhoods differed
in their attitudes toward Spanish speakers? To what did
they attribute these differences? Did they see it simply
as a problem of Felita having friends or not having
friends, or did they really understand the complexity of
prejudice in the story? We began to write our answers
down, and in doing so, we began to create a set of
rubrics designed to code social awareness (Selman &
Dray, 2003).
It is important to step back for a minute to consider
the broader implications of these data. In the IOM
model we discussed earlier, research and theory feed
into practice: The flow goes from the knowledge pool
of research to the delta of practice, with practice be-
ing the beneficiary of good research. But here our pri-
mary prevention program (the literacy infused with so-
cial awareness curriculum) was hit midstream with a
whirlpool, so to speak. Our original theory of interper-
sonal development did not easily map onto the intercul-
tural and intergroup responses given by the children. So
we did not try to force it to fit; instead, we listened to
our data and attempted to make sense of what the stu-
dents described to us.
From Awareness to Practice: How
Children Learn Strategies of Coping
with Discrimination
Thus far, we have analyzed how the children compre-
hended the differences between the two neighborhoods
using a developmental analysis. Next, we questioned
how they would solve the discrimination the family
faced in the new neighborhood. We did not as yet know
how their understanding would translate into actions:
4
As recounted by K. A. Dodge in 2004 in personal conversa-
tion with the first author.
How would the students solve the problem Felita and her
family actually faced?
Embedded into the curriculum were exercises that
allowed the students to practice their social problem
solving and interpersonal negotiation skills. One work-
sheet was called, ABC: Ask, Brainstorm, and Choose.
The students were instructed to ask what the problem
is, brainstorm different ways to solve it, and then
choose the solution that is best in this particular situ-
ation. This type of exercise is fairly common to conflict
resolution curricula and is similar to the stop and
think exercises of Second Step (Committee for Chil-
dren, 2005).
One kind of fundamental social-cognitive research
that underlies this type of exercise conceptualizes the
link between social thought and action as a series of
information-processing steps, from defining the prob-
lem to evaluating the outcome (Coie & Dodge, 1998;
Dodge, Pettit, McClaskey, & Brown, 1986). This ap-
proach attempts to understand or predict behavior at
any particular moment; it is in this sense proximal.
4
Our
developmental method tends to examine both conduct
and the way children make meaning of it over time and
is thus more distal. These two approaches are not mutu-
ally exclusive but instead are complimentary in their
methods of explaining behavior in the moment and over
time and across children (Selman, Beardslee, Schultz,
Krupa, & Podorefsky, 1986).
As part of our data collection, we videotaped the
students as they role-played and worked through the ex-
ercises. As we expected, the students responses to Fe-
litas dilemma were illuminating. After about 3 months
in Ms. Burgoss class, the students trusted their teacher
enough to say what was on their mindwhat they re-
ally thought as opposed to what they thought she
wanted to hear. The class had been instructed to work
through the ABC exercise on their own for homework
and they would discuss the exercise as a group the fol-
lowing day. That morning, Ms. Burgos called on one
student, Luis, to present to the class his homework as-
signment from the night before. We were on hand with
our video recorders to capture the responses and the
ensuing discussion.
Luis read the first question on his homework assign-
ment, What is the problem Felita is facing? He paused
Case Study 2: Practice-Embedded ResearchMoving from Research to Practice to Policy and Back Again 403
Figure 10.3 Developmental and thematic framework.
Two Themes Emerge
Tell them they have
no right to treat you
this way, and you will
deal with it later.
Put them out of your
life and your mind.
Ignore them and get
on with your life.
(Luis)
Tell them that you
will get them back,
along or with your
friends. Show them
you are not afraid.
(Rosario)
Run away, or
give in to them,
and maybe they
will leave you
alone.
Charge into them
and attack,
no matter what
the consequences.
Walk away to reflect
on how to take
future action to
prevent this from
happening again.
Forget about It Push Them Back
for a moment and then declared, Felita is facing the
problem of living in the new neighborhood and getting
insulted by other people. Then Luis read the next ques-
tion on the sheet, What advice would you give to Felita
to deal with and cope with the difficult situation? Luis
briefly looked up from his homework before replying,
I would advise Felita to ignore everybody and get on
with her life.
On the videotape, it is clear this suggestion went over
with the rest of the students like a lead balloon. An awk-
ward silence fell over the class as Luiss classmates ex-
changed knowing smirks and eye rolls. In the class
discussion that followed, under Ms. Burgoss careful
guidance, we found that most of the students disagreed
with Luiss suggestion to ignore the provocation. In-
stead, most of the students strongly felt Felitas family
should do somethinganythingin response to the dis-
crimination they experienced.
What strategies did the students choose to handle
this conflict? Based on the videotapes and their home-
work assignments, we identified four thematic groups
of responses:
1. Fight back: If someone pushes you, push them back
(e.g., call the police, beat the bullies up for doing
that, ask friends from the old neighborhood to
help beat up the bullies). Most of the boys fell into
this category.
2. Retreat: Walk away from these situations (e.g., move
back to the old neighborhood, play with friends in
the old neighborhood, move back to Puerto Rico).
Many of the girls fell into this category.
3. Ignore: Felita should ignore the problem. Only Luis
chose this strategy.
4. Organize: Rally support to protest the injustice.
Have a celebrating differences day. One girl,
Juanita, suggested this option.
Any researcher in social psychology could interpret
these childrens responses based on his or her own theo-
retical and interpretive framework. A clinical perspec-
tive, for instance, would look to Luiss biographical life
experiences to help explain his reaction. We knew, for
instance, that in fact Luis had lived in a homeless shelter
and had been exposed to life on the streets. Using this
type of analysis, Luiss response may be considered
adaptive in that he learned that the best strategy to re-
solve conflicts is avoidance. From a cultural or gender
perspective, it is worth paying attention to how the girls
tended to cluster together around the theme of go back
to the old neighborhood, whereas most of the boys pre-
ferred the beat up the bullies strategy. Cultural psy-
chologists would note, too, that these children are Latino
and either are recent immigrants or children of immi-
grants. That type of analysis would look to the cultural
values and preferences rooted in these childrens own
lives, and their family histories, for explanations of their
behavioral strategies. It would also compare Angelas
class to other classes.
Using our framework, we began by identifying two
main themes in the responses: forget about it and
push them back. The forget about it category (the
left column in Figure 10.3) included a range of options:
move back to the old neighborhood, ignore the girls and
maybe they will leave you alone, and walk away from
the conflict and reflect on it so that you can make a
better decision in the future. We called these responses
self-transforming because they recommended that
Felita and her family walk away from the situation (at
least at first) by avoiding it, moving back to the old
neighborhood, or giving the situation some time and
thought.
In contrast, the push them back category (the
right column in Figure 10.3) included responses in
which Felita and her family would take outward action
toward the girls and the families in the community.
404 Risk and Prevention
5
See, for example, the Developmental Studies Centers pro-
grams, such as Character Development and Academic Com-
petence through Literature; the Yale University School
Development Program developed by James Comer; the Col-
laborative for Academic, Social and Emotional Learning at
the University of Chicago, Illinois; and the Reading, Writing,
Respect, and Resolution program based out of the Educators
for Social Responsibility in New York City.
These actions ranged from beat them up immedi-
ately to get friends from the old neighborhood to
beat them up to tell them they have no right to treat
us this way. Using either words or behavior, this group
of responses preferred taking action rather than spend-
ing time reflecting on or avoiding the conflict.
However, there is also variation within each thematic
group. From our developmental perspective, some re-
sponses seemed to be more mature than others. For ex-
ample, comparing the responses in the forget about it
column, we felt that reflecting on the problem was more
appropriate than ignoring it. Similarly, talking over the
problem within the community (a push them back op-
tion) was preferable to beating them up. Therefore, the
widening of the cone in Figure 10.3 reflected by the side
arrows illustrates a broadening of perspectives being
taken into consideration and a subsequently more devel-
opmentally mature social understanding of the problem
and strategy.
Why This Type of Analysis Matters
Our interpretation of the students responses to the
reading comprehension questions was intriguing for
several reasons. First, it offered a new insight into our
preexisting theory: that how children develop an under-
standing of interpersonal relationships could be broad-
ened to include an awareness of cultural and societal
forces. We could identify differences in the childrens
understanding of Felitas story, and our model of un-
derstanding the development of social relationships
could classify these differences.
Second, our method of assessing social awareness
through reading comprehension questions in literature
offered a new way to study how children comprehend
social situations. In addition to observing behavior and
conducting interviews, we could investigate how children
make meaning and negotiate social situations through
their responses to questions about fictional characters in
novels. Combined with the more traditional methods of
assessment, this was another tool in the study of the de-
velopment of social competence, one that integrates well
with practice.
Finally, the application of a developmental theory of
social awareness (and research that supports it) to the
fields of language arts and literacy was important be-
cause it suggested the possibility of mutually supporting
literacy and social awareness development in children.
Of course, the idea that multicultural literature can be
used to teach children about their own lives is not new.
5
A variety of programs that teach social skills through
literacy have been integrated into schools recently (De-
velopmental Studies Center, 2004; Educators for Social
Responsibility [ESR Metro], 1999; Leming, 2000; Nar-
vaez, 2001; Walker, 2000). For many schools, the pro-
grams may be a solution to their dilemma of needing
to promote literacy, yet not wanting to sideline social
skills. If we could come up with a way to assess chil-
drens social awareness reliably, then we could work as a
discipline toward promoting it. Instead of literature sim-
ply being the vehicle through which social relationships
are introduced, it could become a mechanism for deep-
ening understanding.
However, these ideas are not without challenges. For
instance, we still do not know whether what we captured
was a more developed awareness of interpersonal and
intergroup relationships, or simply more advanced liter-
acy skills. Literacy researchers, for example, would
point to the bilingualism of the students as a factor in
their understanding of the novel; perhaps Rosario had
better language skills than Frederico and therefore
could read and communicate her ideas more fluently in
English. In our analysis, we primarily interpreted what
we believed the children meant to say. We hypothesized
that although many students, including those who were
bilingual, would not be sophisticated enough in their
writing or reading skills to use the word prejudice,
they knew when they experienced it. However, not ev-
eryone would agree with this interpretation. Whether
childrens social awareness can be disentangled from
language and literacy remains to be seen.
Finally, even if we could conduct research that would
adequately disentangle the effects of language and liter-
acy skills from the reading comprehension assessments,
and if we found ways to validate that in fact we were
capturing social skill and understanding, we wondered
about the implications of this type of analysis. Would
practitioners adopt it as an effective method of teaching
Case Study 2: Practice-Embedded ResearchMoving from Research to Practice to Policy and Back Again 405
social skills? How would this method of assessment fit
within the more traditional psychological methods of
behavior observation, measurement, and interviews?
What level of professional and teacher development
would be needed to teach the awareness that we consid-
ered to be essential? We decided these were important
questions to be explored.
From Policy to Practice: Where the Promotion
of Social Awareness Fits within Educational
Policy in the Field of Literacy
We decided to first tackle the question of language and
literacy. Could existing research in reading comprehen-
sion explain what we identified in the students re-
sponsestheir social awareness? How should we begin
to validate our coding? To answer these questions, we
needed to do some research in the field of language and
literacynot the usual home of social developmental
psychologists.
We discovered that the field is one of the most closely
watched and researched domains in education. Faced
currently with one of the largest growth spurts in immi-
gration in the history of the United States, the demands
of the labor market for jobs requiring a literate work-
force, and a widening gap between the wealthy and the
very poor, policymakers (and politicians) have re-
sponded to these changing social demographics with a
focus on academic achievement for all (Bronfenbrenner,
McClelland, Wethington, Moen, & Ceci, 1996). The im-
portance of creating a literate nation has become one of,
if not the most important goals of education (Hill &
Larsen, 2000; MacGinitie & MacGinitie, 1986; Sarroub
& Pearson, 1998; Snow, Burns, & Griffin, 1998).
We also discovered that reading comprehension is an
important area of research and practice. Although de-
coding has been acknowledged as a critical step in read-
ing development, researchers and practitioners have
come to realize that even the most fluent readers do not
necessarily comprehend well (Snow & Sweet, 2003).
Good comprehenders not only are skilled decoders but
also can navigate different types of texts (Walpole,
1999). When students read fiction, they need to learn
how to make inferences about characters motivations
and feelings. They also need to comprehend plot devel-
opments that result from characters actions (Oakhill &
Yuill, 1996). Students with good comprehension ac-
tively make connections between what they currently
read and their background knowledge. They monitor
their own understanding and work to make meaning of
the authors ideas (Spires & Donley, 1998; Vacca &
Newton, 1995).
Yet, despite knowing what good reading comprehen-
sion looks like in action, trying to teach it well or assess
it effectively remains a challenge (Snow & Sweet,
2003). Trying to disentangle childrens content knowl-
edge (what they actually read about) from their reading
skill in assessments is no easy task. In fact, our attempt
to figure out how much of what we captured was social
awareness versus literacy skill is similar to questions of
background knowledge and comprehension confronting
literacy assessments.
The Massachusetts Comprehensive Assessment Sys-
tem (MCAS) is one example of how reading comprehen-
sion has become an indicator of acquired literacy skills.
In the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, as in many
states, the recent educational reform movement has fo-
cused much of its considerable energy and funding on
improving academic achievement by raising literacy
standards. MCAS exams are used to identify areas of
improvement in individual students, teachers, schools,
and districts. Across the state, teachers, principals, and
superintendents work hard to prepare students for the
yearly MCAS exams. Teaching to the test has become
an everyday phrase, and teachers not only admit to
structuring curriculum and classes according to the
MCAS standards, but are in fact expected to do so. The
exams are a fact of life in Massachusetts, and a bar all
students (including Angela Burgoss) have to jump over
to move to the next grade and to graduate. A single test
has become a very high-stakes measure indeed, for stu-
dents, parents, and school professionals.
Outside of Massachusetts, the Stanford Achievement
Test (Harcourt Educational Measurement, 1997) is a
widely used national measure that evaluates writing
and reading comprehension across grade levels. It at-
tempts to assess how well the student understands the
story as a whole, connects relationships among ideas,
considers why and for whom the story was written,
comprehends characters motivations, and understands
setting and plot. Assessments such as the MCAS and
the Stanford series have broad goals. But often, the ob-
jectives of the assessments are distilled into short-
answer reading comprehension questions that rarely
probe beyond the main idea of a paragraph or passage
(Sarroub & Pearson, 1998).
For example, in Figure 10.4 the Stanford Nine (Har-
court Educational Measurement, 1997) tries to determine
406 Risk and Prevention
Figure 10.4 An analysis of a short-answer reading compre-
hension coding rubric from the Stanford Achievement Test
9/e scoring guides. Source: From Stanford Achievement Test
Series, ninth edition, [Technical data report], by Harcourt Ed-
ucational Measurement, 1997, San Antonio, TX: Author.
Reading Selection:
Faster Than the Wind, by Lois Grambling.
Somewhere near you lives a boy like Peter. Peter is in the
fourth grade. It takes him a long time to do his work at school,
and often he needs help with itBut Peter always does his best.
His family taught him that.
Every afternoon when school is over, Peter runs to his house
Peter likes to run. He feels good when he runs, because his legs do
what he wants them to do. His arms and feet do too. The wind hits
his face and blows his hair. When he runs, Peter feels as if he is
flying
One day, Peters big brother told Peter that he should try out
for the school track team. His brother said the team needed fast
and steady runnersAll that day, Peter thought about itThe
next day, Peter ran over to the track field to try out for the team.
Some things are different for PeterPeter gets home from
school late now, but his family doesnt mind. Theyre proud of
Peter, who may be slow at doing some things, but is faster than
the wind when he runs.
Comprehension Question:
Peters family says that he is faster than the wind. What does
that mean? How do you know that?
Coded Responses (with our corrected spelling) from
low (bottom) to high (top) levels:
That means in figurative language it means that he can run very
fast. I know that because it would be impossible for a human to
run faster than the wind.
Faster than the wind means he runs very very fast. Because he
runs and so if he runs fast his parents use that expression to say
he is a fast runner.
Peter can run very fast. It is a comparison.
It means that he runs fast because he runs everywhere and he
runs on the track team Peter likes to run. Because I read the story
and thats what it says Peter runs fast also because he like to run
and has good practice at it.
if children in the fifth grade can understand the meaning
of a figurative phrase such as run faster than the
wind. Reading comprehension requires being able to un-
derstand literary devices such as figurative phrases; if
children cannot utilize these expressions, they will not
learn to communicate deeply. We applaud instruction
guided toward developing childrens capacity to read
well, but we cannot help but feel something can be added
to the type of assessment represented by the Stanford
Nine approach.
One difference in our approach is our theoretical
and practical perspective. A social awareness approach
focuses on the comprehension of the understanding, man-
agement, and personal meaning of the powerful chal-
lenges inherent in the social and societal relationships in
fictional as well as biographical stories. Therefore, our
method of assessment needs to be based on narratives
where these challenges in social relationships are the
primary themes. Traditional measures of reading compre-
hension contain elements we consider particularly impor-
tant, such as understanding character motivations, traits,
and thoughts (Vacca & Newton, 1995). However, our cod-
ing and analysis also tries to capture how deeply the stu-
dent can see beyond the literal meaning of a text and
grasp the personal meaning of the social situations expe-
rienced by the characters.
Developmentally speaking, we argue that fifth grade
is an important time for learning the kind of social is-
sues raised by texts such as Felita. Every day, the stu-
dents in Angela Burgoss class experience conflicts with
each other, with their family, and with students in other
classes. It is inevitable that such experiences engage the
students energy and their attention. We cannot ignore
this energy; their ideas about relationships will affect
their social behavior. Instead of avoiding socially
charged themes, as traditional assessments may try to
do, we embrace them.
Of course, there are risks to the approach we advo-
cate. For instance, children have to read across different
subject areas and need to comprehend texts about science
as well as about social relationships (Snow & Sweet,
2003). We dont want to overemphasize our approach and
ignore the need for a balanced research agenda in reading
comprehension. Our method is not the only way, nor is it
all these students need for literacy skills.
A second concern is that we may misdiagnose stu-
dents using this method of assessment. For example, we
could underestimate what they are capable of under-
standing, or we may mistake differences in cultural be-
liefs about social issues for variation in social and
cognitive development. It is important that we under-
stand and research the ways people from various cul-
tures and backgrounds, with diverse beliefs and values,
would infuse Felitas story with different meanings and
interpretations.
These risks and prospects suggest a challenge for re-
search and theory. The potential pitfalls and opportuni-
ties suggest the need for a next round of research to fill
in the picture of what students at different ages and
Case Study 2: Practice-Embedded ResearchMoving from Research to Practice to Policy and Back Again 407
from different backgrounds understand of social issues
in stories. We need to return to the area of fundamental
research to consider the issues that were raised when we
moved into the world of practice.
Reviewing the Map: The Institute of Medicine
Principles in Light of the Two Cases
The two cases we have provided, the Gilmore School and
Angela Burgoss classroom, are snapshots from the first
two phases of our journey from research to practice, and
from practice to policy. We return now to our original
topics: the role of the Institute of Medicines Prevention
and Intervention Cycle (Mrazek & Haggerty, 1994) and
the relationships between practice and research, both
fundamental and applied.
In the first case, the school in distress, we illustrated
how basic research in psychology (clinical, developmen-
tal, social, and/or cultural) can be integrated into pro-
grams that may help turn a school around in its approach
toward social behavior and school climate. We intro-
duced four programs that are very successful in inte-
grating research with practice. All rest on a foundation
of theory and research and all have been outcome-
evaluated. By describing the people at the Gilmore to
you, we hoped to illustrate how practitioners experience
the everyday world of social relationships in school and
the challenges they face in trying to sift through re-
search to find the answers to their essential problems.
The second case, the story of Felita and our interpre-
tation of the childrens reading comprehension ques-
tions, illustrates how even basic research can be, and
should be, influenced by contextual issues such as class-
room atmosphere and systemic issues such as educa-
tional policy. With the current focus on academic
standards, social development and character education
programs are often sidelined or integrated into content
areas such as history or language arts. In our example,
reading and social development seem to be a natural fit.
But without a structured research plan of how the chil-
drens responses and participation in the program can
be assessed, we will never know how influential are
books about multiculturalism, prejudice, or interper-
sonal conflicts on the development of children. Nor will
we know how to assess the role of teachers. We must
have faith that basic research, no matter how modest in
relation to the forces of practice, will be of some value.
Therefore, our own research agenda has changed direc-
tion, becoming more basic as opposed to applied, and
we are currently engaged in designing a new pilot study
that may help us disentangle more clearly the role chil-
drens literacy skills play in understanding stories of
social justice.
In its report on prevention research, the IOM recom-
mended that comprehensive initiatives in this field be
guided by five principles (Mrazek & Haggerty, 1994).
Consider the two cases we have described in light of
each of these characteristics. The first principle is to
have clearly specified theory-linked hypotheses to
guide both the intervention and the methods of evalua-
tion. Both cases fit this requirement. In the case of the
Gilmore School, each intervention program we de-
scribed had its own underlying research base in the risk
and resilience field; all shared an interest in promoting
childrens social and emotional competence and reduc-
ing the risks of conduct disorder, violence, and other so-
cial behavioral problems. In the second case, Angela
Burgoss class, our working hypothesis was that literacy
programs that focus on reading, writing about, and dis-
cussing books with powerful social themes and issues
will promote better abilities in fundamental academic
skills such as reading comprehension and writing. We
also believe these programs may improve childrens
abilities to deal with adversity, risk, and injustice in
their lives, such as negotiating conflict, developing self-
and social awareness, and expressing their own point of
view. In both cases, these theory-driven hypotheses
were not just tested once, but require both the continual
design and implementation of a range of practices as
well as ongoing basic research.
The second IOM principle is that interventions
should strive to randomly assign participants to well-
defined conditions, where there are clearly specified
manuals to guide the intervention and methods to con-
stantly monitor the fidelity of the way the intervention
is provided or delivered (Mrazek & Haggerty, 1994).
This guideline may work better in models where the tar-
get participants are individuals with identifiable disor-
ders or risk factors, although with enough resources
evaluation studies at the classroom or school level can
be undertaken (Solomon et al., 2000).
The third principle is that potential participants in in-
tervention (or clinical) trials should be fully assessed
prior to their (random) assignment to one of the condi-
tions in the study. In addition, once under way, the study
should have well-specified measures of expected out-
comes that are objectively rated. Here we see an inter-
esting difference in the cases. In their research, the
408 Risk and Prevention
investigators of each program profiled in the first case
set up two conditions, participation and nonparticipa-
tion, and explored the evaluation literature for the kinds
of measures that could objectively (with validity/relia-
bility) measure the effects of each program. The best
available measures in the field were imported into the
study for use, and the outcomes captured.
In the second case, the pilot work has neither com-
pared results across different conditions (steps 3 and 4)
nor gone to the literature for validated measures. In-
stead, we went in a different direction from that sug-
gested by the evidence in step 3. Rather than move to
step 4, we returned to the empirical domain to explore
our ideas, construct new hypotheses, and develop mea-
sures that could be used in a field where few objective
and validated measures previously existed. We then
began working on another pilot study to test the mea-
sures and our research methods. In other words, the
feedback loop to step 1 occurred earlier than the feed-
back loop outlined in the IOM cycle. Before moving to
steps 4 and 5, we needed to spend more time circling be-
tween identifying the problem, reviewing literature, and
conducting pilot studies.
The final principle of the IOM model is that evalua-
tions should continue beyond the immediate end of the
intervention trials (Mrazek & Haggerty, 1994). This is a
principle important not only to the model but to all
research-based practice that thinks about both individu-
als (and populations) in developmental terms. At the
Gilmore School, for example, we need to know whether
cases of conduct disorder diminished over time for those
who participated in the school-based prevention program
Second Step. In addition, we need to better understand
the economic and contextual factors that influenced its
implementation. In the literacy classroom, on the other
hand, we also must investigate what happened to stu-
dents who got a good dose of social awareness mixed in
with their reading program. In both cases, we want to
know if the students were in better shape, academically
and socially, than they otherwise might be 3, 5, or 7
years down the line.
Most likely, the IOM model suggests the final prin-
ciple primarily to find out whether an intervention with
any immediately positive effect has some kind of stay-
ing power or whether the effects strengthen or weaken
over time. These compelling practice-driven questions
need to be answered if they are to turn into policies.
Nevertheless, this recommendation does not assume
there is some definable end to the intervention/preven-
tion. For instance, the approaches suggested in both
cases are really long-term interventions. In the case of
the school-based prevention programs, there is evi-
dence that school and individual problems cannot be
solved in the short term and that the prevention needs
to be ongoing. In the case of the promotion of social
awareness, the ideal method of choice is to infuse this
approach at every grade level. It is not a circumscribed
intervention implemented in a relatively short period
of time. In fact, the intervention probably should be
adopted for at least 6 years, for example, from kinder-
garten through fifth grade, with appropriate teacher
professional development, for it to be considered imple-
mented with fidelity.
In both cases, longitudinal follow-up studies are es-
sential. All the interventions we presented in both case
studies target school-age children, and children are in
school from ages 6 to 17. Clearly, there are developmen-
tal differences in how children across this age range un-
derstand the nature of and make meaning of social
interactions in school. We need to study what this pro-
cess looks like across ages as well as contexts such as
school, social class, and cultural background. We also
need to know the effect of teacher training and family
and contextual interventions. Only with further, long-
term, longitudinal research can any of these issues be
explored thoroughly.
Nothing we do, however virtuous, can be accomplished
alone; therefore we must be saved by love.
Reinhold Niebuhr (1952)
Enlarging the Map: Connecting the Institute of
Medicine Principles to the Public Policy Circle
The cases in this chapter also point to the necessity of
integrating public policy into our discussion of the IOM
research cycle. Initially, our point of departure was the
desire to improve the mental health and social develop-
ment of youth through thoughtful services. At the
Gilmore School, this concern grew from our experi-
ence working with children and teachers struggling to
live in and be supported in a school with a vulnerable
social atmosphere. The strategy we presented was to
seek outside preventive interventions from a range of
options, each with its own theoretical framework and
evidence base. We witnessed how the Gilmore strove
to adapt to a new era of educational policy changes
Case Study 2: Practice-Embedded ResearchMoving from Research to Practice to Policy and Back Again 409
Figure 10.5 Three-factor approach to policy: The Richmond
Model.
Knowledge
Base
Public
Policy
Political
Will
Social
Strategy
that enormously influenced their decision in choosing
and implementing a prevention program. In the second
case, our goal was to pilot-test a theory and a research-
based approach to the promotion of social awareness.
Our intervention did not have an empirical outcome
seal of approval. Even so, we still found ourselves hav-
ing to negotiate national policies on literacy assess-
ment and instruction to do research on childrens social
development. Instead of being cases that simply ad-
dressed the relationship between knowledge and prac-
tice, in both instances we moved quickly to having to
consider issues of policy.
In thinking about the interaction among research,
practice, and policy, we have found a framework ini-
tially articulated by Julius Richmond, former U.S. sur-
geon general, to be very useful as a guide to locate the
kind of integrative work we both describe and do,
the movements we have made, and to plan our next
steps. This map not only locates the work of our cases
on a larger landscape, but it needs to be considered as a
way to view explicitly how this kind of work evolves
over time.
Throughout his 60-year career, Richmond, a pedia-
trician by training, traveled across the worlds of
research, practice, and policy in the fields of child de-
velopment and child health. He has analyzed how
members of the child development professions, be they
researchers, practitioners, policymakers, politicians,
or advocates, can be more effective in influencing pub-
lic policy. In several articles, Richmond presented a
three-factor model to guide child health public policy
(Richmond & Kotelchuck, 1983; Richmond & Leaf,
1985; Richmond & Lustman, 1954). To explain it, we
will refer to Figure 10.5.
There are three territories, Richmond claims, with
which those of us who want to impact public policy in
child development must gain some familiarity: (1) the
analysis and development of a scientific knowledge base,
(2) the analysis and development of a social strategy,
and (3) the analysis and development of political will.
The three must work together to develop and implement
public policy.
For example, a knowledge base provides the scien-
tific foundation on which to make health care policy de-
cisions. Health care policy requires basic research
before we can make progress toward the eradication of
disease. In addition, however, Richmond and his col-
leagues suggest that the knowledge base must also in-
clude an understanding of the social and economic fac-
tors that encompass the health risk, the culture in which
the problems exist, and the delivery systems (such as
prevention programs) that work to ameliorate the risks.
In other words, two kinds of knowledge are necessary:
knowledge provided by the basic researcher who does
fundamental research on questions related to childrens
mental health (e.g., the risks they face) and the expert-
ise of the applied researcher who refines and evaluates
the context and systems of delivery (i.e., the prevention
programs that may work to ameliorate those risks).
Without an understanding of both the health risk and
the process by which our efforts will make a difference,
policies will proceed incrementally in many different
directions.
However, basic and applied knowledge are necessary
but not sufficient to sway public policy. Knowledge must
work hand in hand with social strategy. A social
strategy, as defined by Richmond, is a national or inter-
national blueprint of how our goals should be accom-
plished. As a field, child psychology must work across
disciplines and domains and bridge gaps between basic
and applied research to come to agreement about the
steps we should follow to achieve our policy goals. So-
cial strategy is not in itself policy; it is simply the out-
line and plan of a child health or education policy
(Richmond & Kotelchuck, 1983).
410 Risk and Prevention
Finally, even when we have a strong knowledge base
in an area and a blueprint for change, transformations in
public policy depend on political will. How committed
are we as a society to develop new programs or reinvent
old ones? We need to create a process by which con-
stituencies will be created and resources are generated
to accomplish our child-care goals.
Developmental psychology as a discipline that con-
tributes to prevention science and practice needs to con-
tribute to the movement among all three domains, as
suggested by the bidirectional arrows linking knowl-
edge, strategy, and political will in Figure 10.5. We
need to value each domain and acknowledge the contri-
butions each make to the other. Furthermore, when ac-
tivity in one domain is weak, it needs to have resources
invested to strengthen it. No matter where one starts in
Figure 10.5, one should not abandon that experience as
one moves to a different area. Engagement in all three
territories must come together before one can really
influence the development and implementation of pub-
lic policy.
In our case of applied social development, we now
know that academic skills alone will not suffice to en-
sure that children will have successful lives. We real-
ize that supportive schools lead to better academic
performance (Goodenow, 1993; Larson & Richards,
1991; Wentzel, 1996; Zins, Weissberg, Wang, & Wal-
berg, 2004), but how does one raise the consciousness
among the public or decision makers that high stan-
dards in education need to include standards of social
understanding and ethical conduct? How can we influ-
ence the policies faced by the Gilmore? What are the
next steps our field needs to take to deepen our knowl-
edge, map out our social strategy, and invigorate the
political will?
These are critical questions our field needs to ad-
dress. However, as we grappled with them in our own
work, we came up with a different question we believe
we needed to answer first: In Richmonds model, what
role does practice play? Where is the practice in the
three fields of the model? Is the practitioner simply the
person who carries out the work of the knowledge base,
or the facilitator in our research studies? Does the prac-
titioner help map social strategy or contribute to politi-
cal will?
Let us now return to our second case, the students in
Angela Burgoss class at the Gilmore School and their
responses to reading comprehension questions, to de-
scribe the challenges we faced when our knowledge base
met the politics and practice of implementation.
The Journey from Practice and Policy Back to
Research: Reversing the Direction of the
Feedback Loop
While analyzing the data Angela Burgoss students pro-
vided, we realized that gaps in our own knowledge base
required that we return to the domain of basic research
to explore social awareness more deeply. But to do
basic research, we had to stay within practice, in Angela
Burgoss classroom. We grappled with fundamental
ideas about what children understand by continuing to
do applied yet basic researchby doing what we call
practice-based research.
For example, we found that the most challenging ques-
tion the students faced originated in Chapter 3 of the
book. Several weeks after moving back to her old neigh-
borhood, the character of Felita talked with her grand-
mother about the conflict with the neighborhood girls:
Abuelita, I dont want Mami or anybody else to know that
I . . . I feel like this.
Like how, Felita?
Bad . . . and like I cant stand up for myself.
Well, then I promise you, nobody will know but us,
yes? She smiled and hugged me real tight.
Its about when I lived in that new neighborhood and
what happened to me. I told Abuelita the whole story, just
like it happened. Probably Mami told you already, but I
dont think she really knows how I feel.
Now what makes you say that?
Abuelita, I never said anything to those girls. Never. It
was as if they were right, because I just walked away, you
know? (Mohr, 1979, p. 59)
We were intrigued by this part of the story, where Fe-
lita grapples with her own actions and reactions while
talking to her grandmother. We wondered, what was the
personal meaning of the incident for Felita? Do the
students understand why Felita is upset? To explore
these ideas, our reading comprehension/social aware-
ness question was this: Felita says to her Abuelita, I
never said anything to those girls. Never. It was as if
they were right, because I just walked away, you know?
What does Felita mean?
This question does not just require the students to
look back at a passage in the story. Rather, it probes for
Case Study 2: Practice-Embedded ResearchMoving from Research to Practice to Policy and Back Again 411
the levels of awareness children have of the social world
around them. In a developmental framework, the re-
sponses offered insight into how the students thought
about social relationships generally and Felitas situa-
tion specifically. How, then, do we interpret the stu-
dents responsestheir thoughts?
Most students fell into one of two groups. Some be-
lieved Felita meant she was sorry she had run away
from the physical confrontation with the girls, because
now they thought she was chicken. Others thought Fe-
lita was upset because the girls rejected her for no good
reasonshe did nothing wrong. However, a small num-
ber of students believed that what most upset Felita
was how she herself reacted to the neighborhood kids,
and how they in turn judged what they had done as a
function of her reaction. One student, Juanita, wrote,
Felita means when she says, [it] is as if they were
right because I just walked away you know. She means
that they had the reason . . . to beat her up because she
walked away and didnt say anything while she was
leaving. Although Juanitas sentence is grammatically
confusing at first, she catches something most of the
other children missed: Juanita realizes that Felita
thinks that, because she walked away, she implicitly
validated her attackers view of their discriminatory
behavior. The girls believe they had the right to act
the way they did.
Developmentally speaking, Juanitas comprehension
represented to us a deeper level of social awareness as
well as a deeper level of reading comprehension, and we
believe it is a level that we should strive to promote in all
students as they move across the elementary grades.
When we talk to educators about this analysis of how
students interpret Felita, many initially agree with us.
However, as soon as we recommend using findings like
these to create developmental social awareness bench-
marks, patterned after literacy benchmarks, the resolve
of these educators quickly evaporates. They say, Whoa,
you cant do that. Why not?
Educators usually object for one of two reasons. One
group tends to believe this type of assessment might un-
derestimate the students social awareness, or worse,
that it will not recognize that there are alternative, and
equally sophisticated, ways to express deeper social
awareness. They are concerned that a developmental ap-
proach will incorrectly label the level of the students
expressed awareness as some fixed ability of the child.
In other words, they mistakenly confuse, and hence fear,
the organization of responses to classify the emergence
of social awareness as a kind of absolute diagnosis of
fixed abilities.
On the other hand, other educators have argued that
even an accurate assessment of students social aware-
ness will not tell us how children will act when faced
with similar situations. These educators want a clear
path of actiona right choicethat students will know
needs to be taken. They are concerned especially with
giving credit to the student who develops the capacity to
express an understanding of the social situation but may
not ultimately do the right thing. In other words, our
approach may not emphasize absolute virtues and values.
This group mistakenly confuses the ability for ref lection
with an inability to see the right course of action.
Frankly, we are not saying that a single method or
measure can fully assess the social competencies of
any particular student. Nor should we expect to predict
how students will themselves behave based on what
they say a character should do. The method we used in
the Felita example accepts the limits of words to ex-
press thoughts, and subsequently, of thoughts to predict
actions, and we need to acknowledge that the analysis
of our observations captures only the depth of aware-
ness that a particular student (or group of students) ex-
presses at a particular time in that single assignment. It
does not generalize to students social development
overall. Despite these limitations, however, we believe
it is possible to use this approach to develop a method
of measuring social and ethical awareness. The Felita
example demonstrates why such an assessment is es-
sential if we continue to integrate the promotion of
social and ethical awareness in elementary school lan-
guage arts programs.
For instance, reconsider Juanitas interpretation of
Felitas comments alongside the other students inter-
pretations. It is very likely that Felita actually did not
want to be seen as chicken and did want to be friends
with the kids in the new neighborhood. However, the
other students expressed less depth of awareness about
why Felita later struggled with her decision to walk
away and why she said to her grandmother, It was as if
they were right. Unlike the other students in her class,
Juanita is aware that Felita was less concerned about
looking like a chicken or losing friends and more con-
cerned about the interpretation her antagonists would
make of her not challenging the girls opinions of Span-
ish people.
412 Risk and Prevention
Accountability and Assessment
We believe the development of research-based standards
for measuring students level of social awareness will
enable teachers at all grade levels to better determine
how well students have acquired a deeper understanding
of social and ethical issues. But the research on assess-
ment will need to move quickly to catch up with policy.
For example, as part of a network in the state of Illinois,
a consortium on risk and prevention recently helped to
define a set of social and emotional learning standards
for students in grades K to 12 (Illinois State Board of
Education, 2004). The standards focus on three goals
for each of five benchmark levels: early elementary
(grades K to 3), late elementary (grades 4 to 5), mid-
dle/junior high (grades 6 to 8), early high school (grades
9 to 10), and late high school (grades 11 to 12). The
three broad social and emotional goals are to (1) develop
self-awareness and self-management skills for school
and life success, (2) use social awareness and interper-
sonal skills to establish and maintain positive relation-
ships, and (3) demonstrate decision-making skills and
responsible behaviors in personal, school, and commu-
nity contexts.
However, standards are meaningless unless we come
up with ways of effectively measuring whether students
attained them. This is where we feel practice-based re-
search can make a contribution. If teachers or schools
were able to use carefully selected childrens literature
that reiterated themes from personal identity to social
responsibility, they would be able to analyze students
responses to key questions to study how social aware-
ness grows in each student over time.
In addition, if teachers had an empirically validated
map that located students responses to meaning-
oriented questions about social awareness on a develop-
mental continuum, they could determine how well the
whole class understands the complexity of social issues
via a particular book in the literacy program and be able
to assist those students who need additional help in de-
veloping and understanding their own social awareness.
The teachers we have worked with have been fascinated
by the prospect of interpreting their students writing
beyond a straight literacy analysis. They well under-
stand that promoting social awareness requires students
to understand the meaning these characters make of so-
cial events in their lives. They know that students can-
notor will notalways say what they mean, but that
practice sharing their thoughts about difficult social is-
sues through writing and discussion is an essential step
toward making that connection. Frameworks that orga-
nize their students responses would be very helpful to
this practice.
Teachers also know that fostering students mature
social conduct, either in the moment of a critical inci-
dent or in relationships over time, is not something that
happens as a simple and direct effect of promoting their
capacity for social awareness. Both social awareness
and social actions fluctuate, and they continue to change
depending on conditions in the social atmosphere. But
systematic analysis of childrens writings on these mat-
ters provides one necessary scale for assessing those
changes and fluctuations, even if it should not be used as
the only indicator.
When students write about what Felita means, the
material can be used in multiple ways: as worksheets
for teachers to use to evaluate their literacy and social
awareness skills, by teachers to assess the classroom
culture with respect to intergroup conflict and its
resolution, by the district for outcome or program eval-
uation, and by researchers as data to study basic ques-
tions such as the connection or disconnection between
social awareness and social conduct or between lan-
guage and thought. In addition it can be used, in con-
junction with teachers and practitioners, to help come
to agreement on the topic of what is social develop-
ment. Practitioners can and should use our research (or
at least our research methods) as a basis for coming up
with their own knowledge and standards of social de-
velopmental growth.
All these initiatives, taken together, constitute what
we mean by practice-based research. We did not have to
retreat upstream to the usual laboratory location of the
basic researcher to create knowledge. Instead, we tried
to commit to doing the type of rigorous scientific theory
building and research that is necessary to understand
childrens social competencies while also being sensi-
tive to the needs of the teachers and the complexities of
the Gilmore School. Of course, this process is far from
easy. It is difficult to relinquish control of our standards
of what is developmentally mature or best for the
Gilmore School and allow practitioners to engage with
us in a dialogue about what is appropriate for their class-
room, their school, and their students. But if we had not
been willing to listen to what the children told us in
their own natural context, and work with Angela Burgos
and the other practitioners in the Gilmore School,
we would not have been able to gain the inspiration we
Case Study 2: Practice-Embedded ResearchMoving from Research to Practice to Policy and Back Again 413
6
We would like to thank our colleague Catherine Snow for
participating in the creation of this triangle and helping us to
articulate the practice-research issues we describe in this
chapter.
Figure 10.6 The practice-based research triangle.
A Applied Research
B Basic
Research
P Day-to-Day
Practice
Practice Inspired Research
Practice
Driven
Research
Practice Oriented Research
The Circle of Practice
Embedded Research
needed into our own work to move it to the next level of
its own development.
Developing Our Knowledge Base: Triangulating
Research with Practice
The need to link research to practice is a rhetorical
mantra in the field of child psychology that has been re-
peated often enough to lose much of its meaning. Of
course we must link research to practice, we say. We
make our regular obeisance to this truth, then go back to
doing whatever research (or practice) we were doing be-
fore. It may be that the phrase linking research to prac-
tice is too common and hackneyed to be rescued at this
point. Instead, we will argue that there are at least three
ways that one could be working at the intersection of re-
search and practice, three possible conversations be-
tween researchers and practitioners that could and
should take place. They are represented in Figure 10.6,
the research-practice triangle.
6
In this triangle, researchers live at points A (applied)
and B ( basic), and practitioners live at P (practice).
Clearly, however, there is movement along the sides of
the triangle from one point to the next. An easy path to
understand is between B and Abetween the basic re-
searcher doing work in a discipline (e.g., ways to assess
and test hypotheses about the social development of
children) and the applied researcher. Those who travel
along this route apply theory and research to practical
matters (e.g., the interpersonal competence of children
at risk for depression) or work with applied researchers
to design and evaluate interventions. We call this type of
work practice-oriented research.
A second, fairly easy path to understand is between
A and Pthe path of the applied researchers who bring
their work into the day-to-day life of practice, such as
schools, teachers, and hospitals. Often, the type of re-
searcher who bridges this gap lives in two camps, with a
primary home in the applied research world and a sec-
ond home in the practice world. We call this practice-
driven research; it is akin to our first case, where the
Gilmore School was in distress and needed a research-
based prevention program. This type of work may also
be called evidence-based practice, when the emphasis is
on the P to A direction, for example Second Steps need
for evaluation. It is also represented in part by our sec-
ond case study, when we entered Angela Burgoss class-
room with an intervention program and stayed there to
do applied research.
The last connection, between P and B, is often the
most complicated to grasp and by far the most difficult
path to traverse. We think of this link as practice-
inspired research. It is the partnership that is possible
when the basic researcher meaningfully integrates the
ideas and concerns of practice and reconceptualizes his
or her own research (and theory) based on this new
knowledge. In Angela Burgoss classroom, for example,
when we realized that our preexisting theory did not ac-
count for the complexity of childrens thoughts about so-
cial issues and certainly did not take into consideration
their cognitive language and literacy skills, we returned
to the drawing board. We are currently engaged in the
process of doing new pilot work that seeks to integrate
the knowledge contributed by practitioners, language
and literacy researchers, and our own field of social de-
velopment in an effort to better understand how children
make meaning of stories about social justice.
We have taken the risk of introducing these terms
practice-oriented, practice-driven, and practice-inspired
researchto replace the old adage Link theory and re-
search with practice. It is the connections between the
points of the triangle in Figure 10.6 that are important.
The three research-practice paths have allowed us to
think in alternative ways about our own work and the
414 Risk and Prevention
gaps that exist among applied research, basic research,
and practice. It is not simply the task of the applied re-
searcher to connect basic research and practicewe must
find ways as a field to integrate the knowledge each
brings to the domain (in our case, social development) to
move forward in developing our knowledge base. Finally,
we need to decide as a field how we wish to influence
public policy, to create a road map for social change, and
to develop the political will necessary to make that
change happen.
The circle surrounding the P (practice) in Figure 10.6
also points to the merit of introducing one last term
and making the case for its importance. We call this cir-
cle the zone of practice-embedded research. Practice-
embedded research can be either applied or basic, but its
fundamental feature is that it is research, as exemplified
by our second case of Angela Burgoss classroom, which
is located directly in the heart of the practice. Keeping
in mind that in our case the social development of the
child is nested in context, the social atmosphere of the
classroom and school, the triangulation in Figure 10.6 of
practice (P), applied research (A), and basic research
(B) helped us to see that the zone of practice-embedded
research is less well populated by researchers than we
would like and yet probably is the area that needs to be
the most integrated by researchers if child development
practitioners (educators, clinicians, youth workers) are
to embrace the evidence-based approaches researchers
have convinced policymakers are so important.
Figure 10.6 also clarifies two matters that are ob-
scured in the IOM model and not detailed in the Rich-
mond model. First, although less often traversed, in this
triangle there is a direct route between basic research
and practice, although the waters around P are not ideal
for basic researchers who seek calm and control to do
their research. Second, if there was more two-way traf-
fic along this path, it might reduce the amount of time it
takes to make the translations that usually follow a path
from B to A to P.
In applied research, practice is often the locale where
good formative evaluation is conducted in the shifting
tide between efficacy and effectiveness trials. We argue
that it is also an area well suited to descriptive basic
research work, for example, in social development, on
what theories children at different ages and from differ-
ent backgrounds have about racism and prejudice, or
what they think the causes and consequences of these
social phenomena are, as expressed in the natural and
authentic context of the classroom. Although practice-
embedded basic research may be a slower process, and it
may take longer to publish in conventional research
peer-review journals, we believe there is much to be said
for basic researchers spending more time embedded in
the circle of practice.
CONCLUSION
This chapter used a case study approach to discuss the
connections among research and practice, risk and pre-
vention, and social and academic (specifically literacy)
development. We have used two complementary cases.
One focused on the story of a school at risk and how it
reached out to preventive interventions offered by a
group of program developers who were informed by in-
novative applied developmental research. The other case
focused on a team of academics and how we found in the
Gilmore School not only a place to do applied research
but also an inspiration for our own basic research and
theory building.
We also presented two intervention/prevention mod-
els for the future of the discipline of psychology, specif-
ically social development as it connects to the field of
risk and prevention. The first model, the IOM paradigm,
is a linear model, or in our metaphor, a downstream-
upstream model, in which discipline knowledge flows
down along a river from a mountain reservoir and either
settles in among the practice or takes the problems and
ideas inherent in the practice and returns upstream to do
applied research (such as program design or implemen-
tation) or more basic research.
In contrast, the Richmond model is a partnership or
integrative model. It describes an approach that encour-
ages a commute and conversation across three domains:
the knowledge base, the social strategy, and the political
will. In Richmonds model, the social strategy compo-
nent is not synonymous with practice; it represents nei-
ther the practice nor the applied research that will
achieve desired outcomes. Instead, it represents the
wider social processes that need to take place in order
for the knowledge base to have an effect in conjunction
with political will on policy: the scaling up that is
necessary to achieve societal and systematic change.
Similarly, political will is not specific policies that ef-
fect change but rather the momentum that needs to
gather within and behind substantive knowledge and re-
search about a problem (i.e., poverty, health care, vio-
lence) to make a lasting change in society.
Conclusion 415
7
For an accessible story of one psychosocial investigator in
the field of prevention, in this case child and adolescent de-
pression, who began in practice as a child psychiatrist,
learned risk research in order to study epidemiological risk
factors, designed a pilot intervention, conducted a random as-
signment efficacy study, and moved toward the challenge of
effectiveness studies, see Beardslee (2002).
We argue that the latter model is more effective than
the former for influencing policy, but also that we need a
triangulation of conversation within our own knowledge
base between the points of applied and basic research
and practice. For one thing, the power and effect of re-
search within a knowledge base on social and societal
problems is often much weaker than the researcher in
the thick of the research might suspect. It is unlikely, in
any field, that any one empirical study in a journal arti-
cle will have a major impact. As a result, basic re-
searchers must have faith, in Niebuhrs sense of the
term: a genuine desire to continue to grow the knowl-
edge base within a particular discipline despite the real-
ization that any individual contribution most likely will
be modest, even if and when it attracts temporary atten-
tion. We continue to have faith, however, that over time
the evidence will build up.
As researchers, both applied and basic, we also con-
tinue to hope: to persist within a discipline where prog-
ress is measured not in even increments but rather fits
and starts. Enduring progressive social policies are
rarely implemented in the lifetime of one professional
generation; instead, it takes a continuous stream of indi-
viduals, each having hope as well as faith that his or her
contribution will be beneficial. Even if, as Niebuhr says,
nothing worth doing can be done in one lifetime, the
process of engagement with others toward a common
cause is mutually transformative, inherently develop-
mental, and worth doing.
Finally, both researchers and practitioners need love:
the continued formation and development of ongoing
partnerships that work together to promote both applied
and basic research and effect change. If nothing else, in
the years of doing applied research we have learned that
one group cant do it alone. Researchers need practice in
the same way that practitioners need research. Ulti-
mately, applied and basic researchers as well as practi-
tioners belong to the same camp in the Richmond model:
We all contribute to the knowledge base of our domain,
whether by conducting experimental research in labora-
tories, working with teachers in schools, or providing di-
rect service to children.
We can envision a time when the story of the two
cases we presented in this chapter might someday come
togetherwhen the basic research on social awareness
we do in the Gilmore might actually help the school with
its day-to-day problems. But, at this moment in time, we
want to use the images these two cases project as a back-
ground to end this chapter with some tough questions
our analysis of these cases raised. There are three
themes that speak to professional roles for the future.
The first illuminates the gap between practice and ap-
plied research, the second demonstrates the disconnec-
tion between applied and basic research, and the third
exemplifies the gaps between basic research back to
practice (the biggest gap to bridge).
Although the connection between applied research
and practice might in theory be the easiest to traverse,
it has its own set of problems. As we pondered the
dilemma of the Gilmore School and the prevention
and intervention programs designed to ameliorate the
schools problems, we questioned how we would go
about bridging the gap between practice and applied re-
search in developmental psychology. For instance, do
you have to be a practitioner first to develop effective
intervention programs?
7
Are the gaps between the two
groups more easily bridged by those who have worked in
both domains? We believe the answer to this question is
no, but more applied developmentalists need to find
work commuting between applied research and practice
in the same practice context.
There is a precedent for this model in academic med-
icine. Teaching hospitals are settings for both research
and practice. Clinical investigators do research on the
problems faced by individuals and also direct the prac-
tices that provide services for them. But hospitals (and
federal agencies such as the National Institutes of
Health) have to offer strong incentives to practitioners
to pull them away from practice to clinical research. In
our first case of the Gilmore School, if it had been an af-
filiate of a school of education, then the principal, Mr.
Martinez, could have had research objectives as well as
practitioner duties. Although this may not be realistic
across all elementary schools, perhaps it is not so unreal-
istic to have a few such principals and schools in place.
Advanced training in (applied) developmental psychol-
ogy would be one good kind of training experience for a
clinical investigator (or a school practitioner). Experi-
ence in practice would help the applied researcher fore-
see problems of implementation; experience in research
416 Risk and Prevention
would help the practitioner do a better job of under-
standing issues of accountability and evaluation.
There are also tensions affiliated with the connec-
tion between basic and applied research. In Richmonds
model, the knowledge base includes both basic research
about the health problem and understanding of the in-
fluences of contextual factors and the effectiveness of
different preventive measures. Too often, however,
when we think of the knowledge base of a domain, we
tend to consider only the scientific, cognitive, or biolog-
ical issues that need to be fully explained before we can
begin to think about the surrounding context and/or sys-
tems of prevention that will help ameliorate the prob-
lem. As represented by the IOM model, for instance, the
flow of knowledge seems to indicate that the applied re-
searcher should first learn from the basic researcher,
then apply research to practice, and then immediately
evaluate it, not necessarily swim back upstream to the
area of basic research.
Applied researchers can be frustrated by basic re-
searchers who seem disconnected from real-life needs
and concerns; correspondingly, basic researchers may
not be concerned with the applications of their work
and/or may be unwilling to consider doing research that
is too messy or contaminated by practice and applied
settings to test fundamental hypotheses. Our questions
to bridge this gap are therefore these: How does one
keep doing both basic and applied research at the same
time, and even in the same place? What kind of value
has to be given to applied research in the area of basic
research, and what type of basic research, albeit messy
and sometimes not very experimental, can and should be
published, simply because it contributes novel ideas
taken from applications? What kind of bridges can we
build across institutions and departments (e.g., from a
school of education to the department of psychology or
to the interdisciplinary field of human development) to
create places where conversations about similar topics
are encouraged?
Finally, we are left with the gap between practice and
basic research. Too often, practitioners fail to recognize
or value the contribution of research that is at first
glance far removed from the day-to-day issues they face.
For example, they may overvalue the insights provided by
their peers and underestimate the knowledge provided by
research. Or they are so focused in the moment, on the
daily needs of their students, children, or clients, that
they are not willing or able to step back to look across a
field of research to find out where they should go or what
they should do next. Similarly, basic researchers may be
so concerned with the perhaps minute process of con-
ducting their own research that they cannot distance
themselves enough to recognize the valuable contribu-
tions practitioners can make to their work. Alterna-
tively, they may follow a research agenda of their own,
instead of being reconnected to what is actually needed
by the field.
Of course, sometimes the nearsightedness of both
practitioners and basic researches is exactly what the
field requires. We need basic researchers to follow
seemingly incomprehensible trains of thought because
often this creativity (or simple doggedness) can lead to
the next big breakthrough. We also need practitioners to
be responsible for the daily needs of our society, not lost
in some abstract world of their own. But without some
kind of dialogue, or at least recognition of the value of
each to the other, our field (on a macro level) will never
fully traverse the practice-research triangle. As in the
Richmond model, the discipline needs to constantly
move among the three points to make progress in ex-
panding our knowledge base. With this type of knowl-
edge development, we will move confidently forward
into the realms of social strategy and political will to af-
fect the type of change that will move the fields of risk,
prevention, and social development into the future and
create sustainable, well-considered policy changes.
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CHAPTER 11
A Developmental Approach to
Learning Disabilities
VIRGINIA W. BERNINGER
LIFE-SPAN APPROACH 421
Case Illustrating Behavioral Expression in
Early Childhood 421
Case Illustrating Behavioral Expression in
Middle Childhood 421
Case Illustrating Behavioral Expression in
Early Adolescence 421
Case Illustrating Behavioral Expression in
Young Adult Years 422
SIGNIFICANCE OF LEARNING DISABILITIES FOR
CHILD PSYCHOLOGY 422
MULTIDISCIPLINARY STREAMS OF KNOWLEDGE
ABOUT LEARNING DISABILITIES 423
Neurology 424
Experimental Cognitive Psychology 424
Special Education 424
Developmental Psychology 425
Linguistics and Psycholinguistics 425
Speech and Language Pathology and Child Language 427
Clinical Psychology and School Psychology 427
Developmental Pediatrics 427
CONTRIBUTIONS OF DEVELOPMENTAL
PSYCHOLOGY 428
Rule-Learning Deficit and Computational
Mechanisms 428
Is Phonology the Only Language Deficit? 429
Rapid Automatic Naming, Fluency, Efficiency,
and Timing 429
Comorbidities 430
Normal Variation in Reading and Writing 430
Gender Differences 430
Nature and Nurture 431
Prevention and Treatment Validity 432
Randomized, Controlled, Longitudinal
Experimental Studies 432
Social and Cognitive Development 434
ALTERNATIVE APPROACHES TO DEFINING
LEARNING DISABILITIES 434
Defining Reading Disabilities for Research Purposes 435
Definitions Related to Providing Services in Schools 435
Response to Instruction 436
Processes That Mediate Written Language Learning 437
Developmental Expression of Dyslexia
Subphenotype(s) 437
Research-Supported Inclusionary Criteria 438
Differential Diagnosis for Teaching versus Labels 439
Summary Position on Definitional Issues 440
CONTINUING CHALLENGES 440
Validity of Special Education Categorical versus
Research-Supported Practices 440
The ProblemIs Lack of Knowledge, Not Lack of Money 441
High-Stakes Tests 441
PROFESSIONALS WHO PRACTICE THE THREE Cs:
CARE, CONNECT, AND COMMUNICATE 442
Instructional Research Is Necessary but
Not Suf ficient 442
Professional Approach 442
VISION OF APPROPRIATE EDUCATION FOR
STUDENTS WITH LEARNING DISABILITIES 442
APPENDIX WITH HALLMARK FEATURES FOR
DIFFERENTIAL DIAGNOSIS 444
Inclusionary Hallmark Criteria for
Dyslexia Constellation 444
Inclusionary Hallmark Criteria for Language Learning
Disability Constellation 444
Inclusionary Hallmark Criteria for
Dysgraphia Constellation 445
REFERENCES 445
This chapter provides an overview of the various disci-
plines that have contributed to the conceptualization, di-
agnosis, and treatment of learning disabilities, with a
focus on the field of developmental psychology and rep-
resentative contributions of this discipline, including a
life-span approach. Developmental changes in expres-
sion of learning disabilities are illustrated with cases.
Grants R01 HD25858 and P50 33812 from the National Insti-
tute of Child Health and Human Development (NICHD) sup-
ported the preparation of this chapter and much of the research
reported in it.
The contributions of linguistics and psycholinguistics
are also emphasized. The unresolved issues related to
defining learning disabilities for purposes of practice
Life-Span Approach 421
and of research are highlighted. Recent approaches to
differential diagnosis of specific learning disabilities
are discussed, and research on effective prevention and
treatment of learning disabilities is reviewed. The chap-
ter ends with current challenges for the field of learning
disabilities with respect to research and practice. The
unresolved controversies are related to definition and ef-
fective service delivery in schools.
I am not being facetious when I characterize my line
of research as studying a phenomenondyslexiathat
schools do not believe exists and that the experts cannot
define. Despite these challenges, progress is being made
on the research front across the world, but many obsta-
cles remain in translating this scientific knowledge into
educational practice, for which cases in this chapter
serve as reminders.
LIFE-SPAN APPROACH
Biologically based learning problems may respond to
treatment but persist over development in changing
forms of behavioral expression. What is initially a prob-
lem in phonological awareness, phonological working
memory, and/or accurate phonological decoding (e.g.,
Liberman, Shankweiler, & Liberman, 1989; Snowling,
1980; Stanovich, 1986; Vellutino & Scanlon, 1987; Wag-
ner, Torgesen, & Rashotte, 1994) may resolve or persist
but is likely to become a problem in automatic word
recognition and/or reading f luency for text (Biemiller,
19771978; Blachman, 1997; Breznitz, 1987; Kuhn &
Stahl, 2003; Levy, Abello, & Lysynchuk, 1997; Perfetti,
1985; Wolf, 2001; Young, Bowers, & Mackinnon, 1996)
and spelling and written expression (Berninger, Abbott,
Thomson, & Raskind, 2001). Despite early intervention,
some reading and writing problems persist (Bruck,
1992, 1993; McCray, Vaughn, & Neal, 2001; Penning-
ton, Van Orden, Smith, Green, & Haith, 1990; Shaywitz,
Shaywitz, Fletcher, & Escobar, 1990; Singleton, 1999)
across development.
Case Illustrating Behavioral Expression in
Early Childhood
Susans dyslexia was first evident to her teachers at the
end of second grade. A bright girl with superior oral vo-
cabulary and background knowledge, she once told her
second-grade teacher that she thought the other children
were missing the nuances in the stories they read and
talked about. It was only when the research team asked
her to pronounce real words on a list outside story con-
text or pseudowords that can only be decoded based on
letter-sound knowledge that the nature of her reading
problem was apparent: Her reading was overly depend-
ent on guessing at words in context and on memorizing a
few words without understanding how to decode unfa-
miliar words. These are the hallmark signs of dyslexia
early in schooling. Because her school did not recognize
these hallmark signs in first grade and provide appropri-
ate instruction, Susans written language learning came
to a standstill in third grade.
Case Illustrating Behavioral Expression in
Middle Childhood
Sean had the same problems as Susan in the primary
grades but received special education that emphasized
phonics and oral reading. He learned to read, but his
oral reading was not fluent and his silent reading was
slow. In addition, his written work was peppered with
misspellings that reflected omissions of sounds, addi-
tions of sounds, transposition of sounds, and plausible
spellings ( but not for the specific word used). He often
did not complete written assignments satisfactorily.
However, because he could read silently with reason-
able comprehension, the school dismissed him from
special education services. The school did not under-
stand that the hallmark features of dyslexia during
middle childhood are persisting reading rate, spelling,
and written expression problems in students who have
learned to decode sufficiently well to read silently with
adequate comprehension. Without additional explicit
instruction in these skills, Sean floundered in the regu-
lar program.
Case Illustrating Behavioral Expression in
Early Adolescence
Sam, who is in eighth grade, has the hallmark signs of
dyslexia in adolescence: impaired executive functions
for self-regulation of reading, writing, learning from
lectures, and completion of long-term assignments.
Many schools provide explicit instruction for dyslexics
when they are in the early grades, but not in middle
school and high school, when they would benefit from
systematic, explicit language arts instruction that pre-
pares them for the reading and writing requirements
across the curriculum, study skills, note taking, and
422 A Developmental Approach to Learning Disabilities
test taking. Sam, like many other adolescents with
dyslexia, does not receive any explicit instruction re-
lated to his learning disability but does receive pull-
out services to help him with his assignments in the
regular program. However, the school wants to dismiss
him from all pull-out services for special help because
he passed the states high-stakes writing test. Both
Sam and his parents wanted him to continue to receive
special education because he is barely passing most of
his written assignments in the regular program. How-
ever, according to his school, his learning disability
does not have an adverse impact on his performance in
the regular program because he receives Ds and that is
satisfactory progress. Moreover, because he asks too
many questions and does not always raise his hand
when answering questions, the school recommended
that he be placed in a program for students with behav-
ioral disabilities. They do not think that Sams verbal
IQ in the very superior range, his history of Attention-
Deficit /Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), or test
results using research-supported measures and diag-
nostic procedures showing that he has dyslexia and
dysgraphia are reasons to reconsider dismissing him
from special education. His parents are advised by
special education officials that if they do not agree,
they should hire a lawyer and go to a court hearing.
Sams own story about his learning problems at
different stages of his schooling is reproduced in Fig-
ure 11.1. Readers are encouraged to read this story
before reading the rest of this chapter in order to under-
stand what it is like to have dyslexia from the perspec-
tive of an affected individual during the school years.
Case Illustrating Behavioral Expression in
Young Adult Years
Sharon was the first in her family to complete a college
education, which she paid for by working many jobs.
She did reasonably well but had an enormous struggle
learning foreign languages, which has been well docu-
mented by researchers (e.g., Ganschow & Sparks,
2000) as the hallmark feature of dyslexia during the
college years. Her university graduation was held up
because she could not meet the foreign language re-
quirement. She tried three times, twice with one lan-
guage and once with another language (and even spent
a year living in that country to learn the language). She
was told by her department that there was no point in
being evaluated by the disabled student services on
campus because disabilities affect physical skills like
walking and using ones hands. She had had a history
of reading rate and spelling problems, but the public
school she attended refused to evaluate her because she
was so bright. Our research team evaluated her in her
early adult years (3 years after she should have gradu-
ated) and documented that she met research-supported
criteria for severe dyslexia. Based on the test results,
we obtained permission for her to substitute an alterna-
tive course for the foreign language requirement. By
the time this volume is published, she should have her
undergraduate degree.
At the end of this chapter, these cases are discussed
again from the perspective of how their literacy develop-
ment might have been different had appropriate educa-
tional programs been in place. Appropriate educational
programs include both diagnostic assessment and differ-
entiated instruction.
SIGNIFICANCE OF LEARNING
DISABILITIES FOR CHILD PSYCHOLOGY
Five domains of development have proved reliable
and valid in understanding and assessing child de-
velopment: cognitive and memory, aural receptive and
oral expressive, gross and fine motor, attention and
executive function for self-regulation, and social-
emotional (Berninger, 2001). Children with mental re-
tardation (global developmental disability) fall outside
the normal range in each of these domains of develop-
ment. Children with Pervasive Developmental Disor-
ders (including Autism Spectrum Disorder) fall outside
the normal range in two or more of these developmental
domains. Some children have primary impairment in
one developmental domain (e.g., primary language dis-
order). Children with mental retardation, Pervasive
Developmental Disorder, or primary language disorder
will have some difficulty with learning academic
subjects and are unlikely to achieve at the popula-
tion mean. However, there are other children who are
generally within the normal range in most areas of de-
velopment, but who have a specific kind of learning
problem, a learning disability. If unidentified and un-
treated, learning disabilities can significantly impair a
childs overall cognitive and social developmental
functioning.
One in five children has some kind of learning dis-
ability. The most frequently occurring developmental
Multidisciplinary Streams of Knowledge about Learning Disabilities 423
Figure 11.1 My Story, told by eighth-grader with dyslexia, dysgraphia, and ADHD (Inattentive subtype).
disorder of childhood is specific learning disability in
children whose development is otherwise in the normal
range. Sometimes a childs problem may be specific to
one academic domain (reading, writing, or math).
Sometimes a childs learning problem is in aural /oral
language, nonverbal reasoning, or social cognition,
which affects school functioning even though none of
these is a subject in the school curriculum. Sometimes
a child has disabilities in more than one domain. The
focus of this chapter is on learning disabilities that af-
fect written language. Learning disabilities that are
specific to reading and/or writing are among the most
frequently occurring learning disabilities in school-age
children and youth and have received the most research
attention. Dyslexia, which was used to illustrate the
changing developmental expression of a learning dis-
ability across schooling, is only one kind of learning
disability.
MULTIDISCIPLINARY STREAMS
OF KNOWLEDGE ABOUT
LEARNING DISABILITIES
Federal special education law in the United States spec-
ifies that multiple disciplines should be involved in the
assessment and educational planning of students with
learning disabilities. Some other countries (e.g., Canada
and England) have comparable laws for identifying and
educating children with learning disabilities. Multiple
424 A Developmental Approach to Learning Disabilities
disciplines have also contributed to both research and
clinical practice in the field of learning disabilities.
These include neurology, experimental cognitive psy-
chology, special education, linguistics, psycholinguis-
tics, speech and child language, clinical and school
psychology, and developmental psychology.
Neurology
Neurologists were the first to identify the extreme
difficulty some otherwise normal children have in
learning to read. One of the most informative intro-
ductions to the pioneering contributions of neurolo-
gists at the end of the nineteenth and beginning of
the twentieth century is The Historical Roots of
Dyslexia (Shaywitz, 2003, chap. 2). Neurology contin-
ued throughout the twentieth century to contribute, pri-
marily through clinical studies (e.g., Orton, 1937).
Now in the twenty-first century, this field continues to
contribute through the use of in vivo brain imaging
(scanning the brains of living children and adults as
they perform cognitive and language tasks; for review,
see Berninger & Richards, 2002).
Experimental Cognitive Psychology
Beginning early in the twentieth century, psychology
contributed to the available literature by developing sci-
entifically defendable paradigms for investigating mental
processes involved in reading (e.g., Huey, 1908/1968).
By the middle of the twentieth century, the psychology of
reading had generated a wealth of knowledge about
teaching children to read (e.g., Bond & Tinker, 1967;
Gates, 1947; Gray, 1956; Harris, 1961), and this knowl-
edge was transmitted in many ( but not all) teacher train-
ing programs. Many schools had reading specialists who
were well trained in reading (often with 60 to 90 graduate
credits) and who were available for assessment, consulta-
tion, and small group instruction in local buildings. Deci-
sions about who to test and teach and about how to work
with teachers was left to specially trained professionals
who were allowed to function in a flexible manner with-
out burdensome regulations and paperwork. Unfortu-
nately, not all schools had access to such professionals.
Parents often had to turn to services outside the public
school if their child had a specific learning disability in
reading or writing.
Special Education
By the early 1960s, a national political movement led by
parents was gaining momentum. Parents wanted to under-
stand why schools could not teach children who had
normal intelligence to read and write. This movement led
to a parent-organized, landmark conference in 1963 in
Chicago where Samuel Kirk (Kirk & Kirk, 1971) first
proposed the label learning disabilities. Following that
conference, parents of children with learning disabilities
partnered with parents of children with mental retarda-
tion to mount a national effort in the United States that
culminated in the 1975 federal legislation, Public Law
94-142, that guarantees a free and appropriate education
for all students with educationally handicapping condi-
tions. Because professionals could not agree about how to
define what a learning disability is (inclusionary crite-
ria), the federal law defined it on the basis of what it is not
(exclusionary criteria: It is not due to mental retardation,
sensory acuity or motor impairment, lack of opportunity
to learn, or cultural difference).
To support this new field of special education, the
U.S. Department of Education provided funding for train-
ing programs for special educators, model demonstration
projects, and research on teaching special populations of
students with educationally handicapping conditions.
(See Torgesen, 2004, for the history of the field of special
education; see Johnson & Myklebust, 1967, and Kirk &
Kirk, 1971, for a description of early conceptualization
and practices in special education.) However, because
appropriate was not defined on the basis of develop-
mental and educational science, this legislation has often
resulted in costly legal proceedings and adversarial rela-
tionships between parents and schools, without resulting
in better academic achievement of students with learning
disabilities. In fact, meta-analyses indicate that special
education for students with learning disabilities has
not been effective (e.g., Bradley, Danielson, & Hallahan,
2002; Steubing et al., 2002), especially in reading
(Vaughn, Moody, & Schumm, 1998).
One reason for the relative ineffectiveness of special
education is that special education teachers are not given
much preservice training in the psychology of teaching
reading; they also are not taught instructional practices
that cover all reading and writing skills in the general
education curriculum in a grade-appropriate manner
from K to 12. Currently, many preservice teacher train-
ing programs advocate philosophical approaches (e.g.,
Multidisciplinary Streams of Knowledge about Learning Disabilities 425
constructivism, which advises against explicit instruc-
tion) that are not consistent with what research in devel-
opmental science and educational science during the
past 3 decades has shown is effective in teaching stu-
dents with specific learning disabilitiesnamely, ex-
plicit instruction to bring language processes into
conscious awareness. (See Berninger & Winn, in press;
and Mayer, 2004, for shortcomings of constructivism in
contemporary educational practices.) There is a myth
that explicit instruction is skill and drill, but that is not
the case (see Berninger, Nagy, et al., 2003, for examples
of explicit instruction for developing linguistic aware-
ness in reflective ways that are intellectually engaging).
Moreover, paraprofessionals, most of whom do not
have specialized training in teaching reading or as much
professional preparation as general educators, are in-
creasingly providing instruction for students with learn-
ing disabilities. Many schools hire reading specialists
trained outside professional preparation programs and
in primarily a single method. There is unlikely to be a
single program that meets the needs of all students.
Children with specific reading and writing disabilities
are more likely to learn to read and write if taught by
professionals who are skilled in differentiated instruc-
tion; that is, they can construct programs that address all
the necessary reading and writing skills at a specific
stage of reading or writing development and individual-
ize, if necessary, for specific students in group learning
settings (Berninger, 1998).
In short, there are a number of unresolved problems in
identification and service delivery for students with spe-
cific learning disabilities. It may not be possible to achieve
the desired goals by simply legislating them; these goals
probably require educating the educators as well as teach-
ing the affected individuals (Berninger, Dunn, Lin, & Shi-
mada, 2004; Berninger & Richards, 2002).
Developmental Psychology
In contrast to special education, which is an applied dis-
cipline, developmental psychology is a scientific disci-
pline that contributes relevant basic knowledge to
understanding learning disabilities. These contributions,
which are discussed later in the chapter, include under-
standing rule-learning deficits; multiple levels of lan-
guage; automaticity, fluency, efficiency, and timing
deficits; comorbidities, normal variation, gender differ-
ences; nature-nurture interactions; life-span approaches;
prevention and treatment validity; and randomized, con-
trolled longitudinal experiments. Many of these contri-
butions draw on earlier and concurrent contributions
from linguistics and psycholinguistics.
Linguistics and Psycholinguistics
Linguistics specifies how speech is represented in
English orthography in a rule-governed (not purely
arbitrary) way and documents the morphophonemic na-
ture of English (e.g., Venezky, 1970, 1999). Although
spelling units (typically one or two letters in length)
generally represent speech sounds, called phonemes, in
a predictable manner (alternations or a set of rule-
governed options such as the / k/ and /s/ sound associ-
ated with the letter c), not all spellings are perfectly
predictable. Much of the predictability of American
spelling relies on the morphology as well as the phonol-
ogy of the language; for example, signal preserves the
spelling of the stem sign. It has also been well estab-
lished that knowledge of alphabetic principle (one- and
two-letter spellings that represent the phonemes) can ex-
plain the acquisition of one- and two-syllable words of
Anglo-Saxon origin that occur with high frequency in
reading materials in the lower elementary grades (for re-
views, see Balmuth, 1992; Ehri, Nunes, Stahl, & Wil-
lows, 2001; Rayner, Foorman, Perfetti, Pesetsky, &
Seidenberg, 2001).
However, knowledge of morphology is critical to the
acquisition of the longer, more complex written words
that occur with high frequency in reading materials
from mid-elementary school through high school and
college (Carlisle, 2004; Carlisle & Stone, 2004; Carlisle,
Stone, & Katz, 2001; Nagy, Anderson, Schommer, Scott,
& Stallman, 1989; Nagy, Osborn, Winsor, & OFlaha-
van, 1994). From fourth grade on, students encounter in
their school texts an increasing number of complex
words in terms of sound-letter relations and internal
structure (i.e., syllabic or morphemic structure;
Carlisle, 2000; Carlisle & Fleming, 2003; Nagy & An-
derson, 1984). Students who earlier struggled with mas-
tering alphabetic principle because of difficulties in
phonological processing (Liberman et al., 1989) face ad-
ditional challenges in learning to recognize specific
words automatically: (a) creating and linking precise
phonological and orthographic representations (Ehri,
1992; Perfetti, 1992), and ( b) encountering low-
frequency written words frequently enough (White,
426 A Developmental Approach to Learning Disabilities
Figure 11.2 Schema of three word forms and their parts that
are interrelated in decoding in working memory and creating
precise orthographic word forms in long-term memory.
Sources: From Processes Underlying Timing and Fluency
of Reading: Efficiency, Automaticity, Coordination, and
Morphological Awareness (Extraordinary Brain Series,
pp. 383414) by V. Berninger, R. Abbott, F. Billingsley, and
W. Nagy, 2001, in Dyslexia, Fluency, and the Brain, M. Wolf
(Ed.), Baltimore: York Press; and Brain Literacy for Educators
and Psychologists, by V. Berninger and T. Richards, 2002, San
Diego: Academic Press.
Phonological
Word Form
Orthographic
Word Form
Morphological
Word Form
morph
ology
ic
al
Power, & White, 1989). Students who were earlier
taught phonics and may have learned letter-sound corre-
spondences in alphabetic principle, word family pat-
terns (e.g., -at in pat, bat), and syllable types (e.g., open
and closed, vowel teams, silent e, r-controlled, and -le)
may need additional strategies to deal with the complex-
ity of English orthography (Schagal, 1992), especially in
content area texts, which may have spellings unique to
word origin (Anglo-Saxon, Latinate, or Greek), complex
word structures, and unfamiliar, low-frequency words.
Another contribution of linguistics was demonstrat-
ing that most language knowledge is implicit (uncon-
scious), but learning to read requires explicit instruction
that brings this implicit knowledge to conscious aware-
ness (Mattingly, 1972). Programs of explicit instruction
in word decoding that draw on alphabetic principle and
morphological structure have been developed by Henry
(1988, 1989, 1990, 1993, 2003) and Lovett and col-
leagues (e.g., Lovett et al., 1994, 2000). Both programs
require children to manipulate units of phonology, or-
thography, and morphology (see Figure 11.2). Both pro-
grams combine explicit instruction and strategy
instruction and practice, which a meta-analysis showed
was the most effective approach for improving reading
skill (Swanson, 1999).
Henrys (1990, 2003) program focuses on reading
and spelling words from different etymological back-
grounds: words of Anglo-Saxon, Romance, and Greek
origins. For each word origin, students are taught
linguistic units in written words (i.e., letter-sound cor-
respondences, syllable types, morphemes). Before re-
ceiving such instruction, third, fourth, and fifth graders
had letter-sound knowledge but little knowledge of sylla-
ble or morpheme patterns; the third and fifth graders
who received the morphophonemic training linked to
word origin improved significantly more in reading and
spelling than those who received only basic phonics
(Henry, 1988, 1989, 1993). Lovett (e.g., Lovett et al.,
1994, 2000) validated methods to improve the word-
reading skills of students with reading disabilities:
PHAB/ DI (direct instruction in sound analysis, blending
skills, and letter-sound correspondences), WIST (four
word identification strategies: using analogy, seeking
the part of the word you know, attempting variable
vowel pronunciations, and peeling off affixes), and
Combined PHAB/ DI and WIST (Phonological and
Strategy Training Program [PHAST]). Clinical studies
showed positive gains in reading both trained and un-
trained (transfer) words (Lovett, 2000).
However, the concept of how knowledge of morpho-
logical structure in low-frequency words can help stu-
dents read content area texts from the fourth grade on is
less widely understood. Analysis of the number of dis-
tinct words in printed school English showed that stu-
dents encountered more than 88,000 distinct words in
texts through ninth grade (Nagy & Anderson, 1984).
About half the words in printed texts through ninth
grade occur once in a billion words of text or less (e.g.,
inf late, extinguish, nettle), so knowledge of word-
formation processes becomes necessary (Nagy & An-
derson, 1984). For every word a student learns, there are
between one and three related words that should be un-
derstandable to the student because of semantic trans-
parency of wordswhether the meaning of the base
word is apparent in a longer word that contains that base
word (e.g., red and redness have relative semantic trans-
parency, whereas apply and appliance do not)that re-
duces the number of distinct words that need to be
learned (Nagy & Anderson, 1984). About 60% of the
unfamiliar words encountered by students in the middle
school years and beyond are sufficiently semantically
transparent that a reader might be able to infer the mean-
Multidisciplinary Streams of Knowledge about Learning Disabilities 427
ing of the word from context (Nagy et al., 1989). Thus,
students with reading and writing disability also need
explicit instruction in the word formation processes and
inferring word meaning from context.
Triple Word Form Theory
Studies that integrated treatment and brain imaging pro-
vided support for the theory depicted in Figure 11.2.
Both unique neural signatures for the three word forms
(Richards et al., 2005, 2006) and cross-over effects
(Richards, Aylward, Raskind, et al., in press) were ob-
served: Individuals who received morphological treat-
ment showed significant changes in phoneme mapping
during brain scans, whereas individuals who received
phonological treatment showed significant changes in
morpheme mapping during brain scans. Richards et al.
(2002) showed that morphological awareness training im-
proved efficiency (rate) of phonological decoding and led
to greater metabolic efficiency in neural processing dur-
ing phonological judgment while the brain was scanned
than did training in only phonological awareness. In addi-
tion, structural equation modeling of subphenotypes in
the family genetics study showed that a second-order fac-
tor modeled on indicators of each word form factor pre-
dicts reading and spelling outcomes better than the
first-order factors for each word form (Berninger, Ab-
bott, Thomson, Wijsman, & Raskind, in press). The ben-
efits of Wolf et al.s (2003) RAVO, an intervention that
trains rapid automatic retrieval of spoken names (phonol-
ogy), vocabulary, and orthography, for the reading dis-
abled may be related to the way it integrates phonological,
orthographic, and morphological word forms.
Speech and Language Pathology and
Child Language
Linguistics is a basic discipline. A professional special-
ization for applying basic knowledge of child language is
speech and language pathology. All public schools at the
beginning of the twenty-first century, in large part be-
cause of the federal special education laws, now have ac-
cess to practitioners with professional training in speech
and language pathology. Although they primarily work
with children who qualify for services under the cate-
gory of Communication Disorders, many of whom have
more severe problems in receptive aural language,
speech, or expressive oral language than those with spe-
cific learning disabilities, they are typically the profes-
sionals in the schools with the most training in language.
Thus, they are a valuable resource for other educational
professionals because children with reading and writing
disabilities often have associated aural /oral language
processing deficits. Developmental studies by speech
and language specialists have shown that speech and
language problems during the preschool years are asso-
ciated with a variety of developmental outcomes during
the school-age years, including (a) mental retardation,
( b) specific aural /oral language impairment, (c) spe-
cific reading disabilities, (d) specific writing disabili-
ties, and (e) normal reading function (e.g., Aram,
Ekelman, & Nation, 1984; Bishop & Adams, 1990;
Catts, Fey, Zhang, & Tomblin, 1999, 2001).
Clinical Psychology and School Psychology
Clinical psychology and school psychology are applied
disciplines that have contributed scientific research
knowledge about learning disabilities and train the prac-
titioners who serve individuals with specific learning
disabilities in the private and public school sectors. They
are typically trained in cognitive, academic, social, and
emotional assessment that yields relevant information
for diagnosing and treating specific learning disabilities.
Historically, they have relied on education to translate
the assessment results into instructional practice.
However, recently, there is growing interest in the treat-
ment validity of linking psychological assessment
with research-supported instructional practices (see
Berninger, Dunn, & Alper, 2004). Because the federal
special education law stipulates that all students with ed-
ucationally handicapping conditions have the right to
evaluation, whether or not they attend public schools,
psychologists who work in school settings assess students
attending public schools, students referred from private
schools, and students who are home-schooled. However,
there is a large and growing market for clinical psycholo-
gists, especially those with neuropsychological training,
because many parents seek independent evaluations out-
side the public school. This trend is likely to increase be-
cause student achievement standards continue to increase
in this era of educational accountability and are linked to
high school graduation in some states.
Developmental Pediatrics
The childs pediatrician or family physician is the pro-
fessional who often has the best knowledge of an indi-
vidual child across development. Levine, who has been a
428 A Developmental Approach to Learning Disabilities
leader in developmental pediatrics, has (a) increased
awareness of the normal variation among learners
(Levine, 1993, 1998, 2002), ( b) demystified learning
problems for affected individuals (Levine, 1990), (c)
documented that many learning disabled have develop-
mental output failure (writing problems; Levine, Over-
klaid, & Meltzer, 1981), and (d) emphasized that stu-
dents who do not complete written work satisfactorily
are more likely to have undiagnosed processing prob-
lems than to be lazy (Levine, 2003). Most students want
to succeedif only a caring, competent teacher could
teach them in a way they can learn (Berninger & Hidi, in
press). Because of my earlier clinical and research expe-
rience in the Ambulatory Pediatrics Department at
Bostons Childrens Hospital, headed by Levine, I began
a programmatic line of research on normal variation as a
reference point for understanding learning disabilities
and focused on writing as well as reading.
CONTRIBUTIONS OF
DEVELOPMENTAL PSYCHOLOGY
In this section, we highlight a few of the representative
contributions of the discipline of developmental psychol-
ogy to the field of learning disabilities.
Rule-Learning Deficit and
Computational Mechanisms
Manis and Morrison (1985) and Manis et al. (1987)
questioned whether the problems of the reading disabled
in learning alphabetic principle (correspondences be-
tween letters and phonemes) reflects a more general
underlying difficulty in inducing and applying rules. To
test this hypothesis, Manis et al. paired words with
visual symbols (arrows, squares, triangles plus dots or
asterisks) so that rules were consistent across some situ-
ations but not others (as is the case in language, which
tends to have predictable but flexible regularities). Their
findings supported their hypothesis and are also consis-
tent with recent brain imaging research showing activa-
tion in the fusiform gyrus (a brain region associated
with pattern recognition and abstracting rules or regu-
larities and pattern) in normal readers (e.g., Booth et al.,
2003; Booth, Perfetti, & MacWhinney, 1999) and
dyslexics (e.g., Richards et al., 2005). If the reading dis-
abled have difficulty inducing the rule-governed pat-
terns of regularities and/or flexibly adapting these as
necessary across contexts, then they are likely to benefit
from explicit instruction that assists them in abstracting
those regularities and applying them strategically.
Connectionist models, which simulate computational
processes in the brain during written word learning
(e.g., Seidenberg & McClelland, 1989), demonstrated
that overt, verbally articulated rules are not necessary to
learn to read written words, and that one computational
mechanism may underlie regular and irregular word
reading. Manis and Seidenberg (e.g., Manis, Seidenberg,
Doi, McBride-Chang, & Petersen, 1996), who collabo-
rated in longitudinal studies of how children learn rule-
governed phonological decoding and irregular word
reading, identified subtypes of children with deficits in
decoding or irregular word reading, but the subtypes
were not completely stable across reading development.
Over time, regular and irregular reading may converge
because phonological decoding (often assessed by regu-
lar word reading) contributes to automatic word recog-
nition (Ehri, 1992; Uhry & Shephard, 1997), which may
be assessed with real words that are regular and irregu-
lar because exception words are at least partially decod-
able (Berninger, 1998; Berninger, Vaughan, et al., 2002).
The contribution of the connectionist models was
showing that procedural knowledge (unconscious com-
putations without overt verbalizations of declarative
knowledge of phonics rules) may guide reading develop-
ment. Our instructional studies apply this principle in
teaching connections between letters and sounds explic-
itly ( both out of word context and in word context) but
without overtly articulating any rules (e.g., Berninger
et al., 1999; Berninger, Abbott, et al., 2000).
The research on the rule-deficit and computational
modeling suggests that there is a continuum of rule-
learning in reading, ranging from (a) highly implicit
to ( b) moderately implicit to (c) moderately explicit to
(d) highly explicit:
1. Computational procedures out of conscious awareness
induce connections between spoken and written words
that support reading of unknown and familiar words.
2. Through repeated practice in word reading (applying
procedural knowledge based on those connections be-
tween spoken and written words), an autonomous
lexicon is created that can be accessed automatically
for specific words.
3. Explicit instruction engages children in active manip-
ulations of spoken and written words and their parts
and in the process creates conscious linguistic aware-
Contributions of Developmental Psychology 429
ness of phonemes, spellings, and morphemes (see
Figure 11.2).
4. Explicit instruction in deductive application of the
verbalized phonics, morphology, or spelling rules (pat-
terns within and between written and spoken words)
creates strategic readers who consciously apply this
knowledge to unknown words.
For individuals without the genetic influences associ-
ated with learning disabilities (discussed later in the
chapter), 1 and 2 alone may be sufficient. For many chil-
dren, with or without learning disabilities, 3 and 4 may
be necessary for learning to read. There are individual
differences in how much explicit instruction and what
kind of explicit instruction students of the same age and
grade level need. One of the greatest challenges in
teaching reading is to provide differentiated instruction
in the general education program during early and mid-
dle childhood so that children receive the appropriate
degree of explicit instruction they require for mapping
spoken words they already know onto written words
they are learning, and recognizing new written words
that may not be in their spoken vocabulary. Preservice
teachers should be prepared to assess how much explicit
instruction individual children require and to provide
appropriate instruction along the continuum of explicit
rule learning.
Is Phonology the Only Language Deficit?
Phonological skills appear to be impaired across devel-
opment in reading disability (e.g., Berninger, Abbott,
Thomson, et al., 2001, in press; Bruck, 1992, 1993; Pen-
nington & Lefly, 2001; Scarborough, 1984). At the
same time, there is evidence that other aspects of lan-
guage (e.g., vocabulary or syntax) may contribute to
reading development and its disorders, and which is the
most important may change across development (Scar-
borough, 1984, 1989, 1990, 1991, 2001; Scarborough,
Ehri, Olson, & Fowler, 1998). However, phonological
processing is complex and may refer to at least three
separable skills: phonological awareness of sound seg-
ments in spoken words, phonological working memory
(storing and manipulating sound units in temporary
working memory), and phonological decoding (translat-
ing orthographic units in written words into spoken
words; Wagner & Torgesen, 1987).
Each of these phonological processes may be related
to multiple levels of aural /oral or written language. For
example, aural nonword repetition (see Bishop & Snowl-
ing, 2004) may be related to vocabulary (Gathercole &
Baddeley, 1989), sentence processing (Willis & Gather-
cole, 2001), comprehension (Montgomery, 2003; Na-
tion, Clarke, Marshall, & Durand, 2004), and executive
functions (Baddeley & Della Sala, 1996). Thus, in the
complex brain systems supporting reading (Berninger,
2004a) and writing (Berninger & Winn, in press), there
are systems within systems, and it can be misleading to
attribute any complex skill to a single underlying pro-
cess. Nevertheless, there are identifiable language skills
that can be assessed and taught explicitly for specific
reading or writing skills at specific phases in reading
and writing development. If professionals are not aware
that language is a multilayered, complex system
(Berninger & Richards, 2002) and use this knowledge in
their assessment and treatment practices, some children
will be assessment casualties, their problems going un-
detected, or curriculum casualties, children who can
learn to read but have not been taught in a developmen-
tally appropriate way. Teaching preservice teachers
about the complexities of language may prevent learning
disabilities.
Rapid Automatic Naming, Fluency,
Efficiency, and Timing
One of the most reliable predictors that a prereading
child will have a reading disability is inability to name
objects or colors (assuming the child is not color blind;
Manis, Seidenberg, & Doi, 1999; Wagner et al., 1994;
Wolf, Morris, & Bally, 1986). By first grade and there-
after, the time required for naming multiple rows of con-
tinuous letters is one of the most frequent concurrent
deficits in individuals with reading disabilities (e.g.,
Wolf & Bowers, 1999) and writing disabilities (e.g.,
Berninger, Abbott, Thomson, et al., 2001, in press). Stu-
dents who have a double deficit in rapid naming of let-
ters and phonological awareness are more impaired than
those who are impaired in only one of those skills (Wolf
& Bowers, 1999). Number of deficits in phonological,
orthographic, and rapid naming skills predicts severity
of reading disability (Berninger, Abbott, Thomson,
et al., 2001).
Rapid automatic naming (RAN) is a deceptively sim-
ple task that reflects complex processing (see Wolf &
Bowers, 1999): attention to visual stimuli (colors, pic-
tures, or alphanumeric stimuli), rapid automatic access
to familiar phonological codes in long-term memory,
430 A Developmental Approach to Learning Disabilities
and coordinating codes on different time scales (one vi-
sual /orthographic code and one oral linguistic code, for
lexical or word-level representations) in real time
(Breznitz, 2002).
Not all timing problems in reading disability involve
rapid retrieval of single lexical items. Some appear to in-
volve fluency (quick, smooth, coordinated processing of
serial items), which is influenced by the efficiency of
each of the language processes involved (e.g., Perfetti,
1985). A precise timing mechanism for coordinating
reading processes may be impaired in reading disability
(Wolf, 1999). Treatment that accelerates rate of process-
ing appears to increase efficiency of the multiple
processes involved and thus fluency (Breznitz, 1987,
1997a, 1997b).
Dyslexia (a specific kind of reading disability) may
cause undue difficulty in sustaining mental ef fort over
time. On the first row of the Wolf et al. (1986) RAN tasks
(10 items), the child dyslexics do not differ significantly
from grade norms, but on the remaining four rows of 10
items each they do (Berninger & Hidi, in press). Dyslex-
ics appear to have an invisible difficulty in sustaining
time-sensitive, goal-directed activity carried out in work-
ing memory. Many teachers have no empathy for students
who cannot complete written assignments in a timely
manner. They cannot directly observe this hidden disabil-
ity in sustained effortful word retrieval, which is appar-
ent on the clinically administered RAN task. In contrast,
oral reading dysfluency is a publicly visible disability.
Comorbidities
Reading disability may occur with or without other
learning or behavior problems. Some gifted children
have disabilities in low-level writing skills that interfere
with their high-level composing skills (Yates, Berninger,
& Abbott, 1994) or low-level reading skills that inter-
fere with high-level comprehension skills (e.g., un-
treated child dyslexics in our family genetics study).
Many children with behavioral disabilities have undiag-
nosed and untreated learning disabilities in academic
content domains and in aural /oral language (Berninger
& Stage, 1996). Reading or writing disabilities may also
occur along with developmental psychopathology, in-
cluding ADHD (especially the Inattentive subtype)
and/or Conduct Disorder (see Pennington, 2002, for fur-
ther discussion of the issue of comorbidity that compli-
cates both research and treatment and for a review of
research on this topic).
Normal Variation in Reading and Writing
In contrast to comorbidities based on categorical vari-
ables, normal variation is based on quantitative traits
modeled as continuous variables. Normal variation (in-
terindividual and intraindividual dif ferences) occurred
in the processing skills related to reading and writing in
a large, representative sample of typically developing
primary grade students (Berninger & Hart, 1992). Inter-
mediate grade students in another large, representative
sample exhibited intraindividual variation in their pro-
files of word reading and text-level reading skills
(Berninger, 1994) and their profiles of word choice, sen-
tence construction, and discourse organization in com-
posing (Whitaker, Berninger, Johnston, & Swanson,
1994). We observed normal variation in response to the
same instruction. Berninger and Abbott (1992) docu-
mented normal variation among individual children in
response to the same reading instruction across first
grade. Traweek and Berninger (1997) and Abbott, Reed,
Abbott, and Berninger (1997) documented normal vari-
ation in response to the same instruction during second
grade. Among children who do not have ADHD, normal
variation in their ability to self-regulate attentional
focus and goal-directed attention uniquely predicts their
ability to process the orthographic word form (see Fig-
ure 11. 2; Thomson et al., 2005).
Taken together, these various studies show that vari-
ation among learners is normal; the typical classroom
will have students exhibiting many individual differ-
ences in processes and skills related to literacy learning.
Thus, one of the pressing needs in an era of increasing
expectations for high levels of academic performance is
to prepare teachers to deal effectively with the normal
diversity in cognitive processes among the students in
their classrooms. This diversity requires a continuum of
explicit instruction to create awareness of language
processes. Another pressing need is to understand learn-
ing disabilities in reference to the normal variation in
reading and writing acquisition (Berninger, 1994) and
typical reading (e.g., Chall, 1983, 1996) and writing
(e.g., Templeton & Baer, 1992; Treiman, 1993).
Gender Differences
Gender differences in reading disabilities appear to be
related to referral biases (Shaywitz et al., 1990). How-
ever, gender differences do occur in writing. Typically
developing boys are more impaired in handwriting auto-
Contributions of Developmental Psychology 431
maticity and its related orthographic (not motor) skills
(Berninger & Fuller, 1992; Berninger, Fuller, &
Whitaker, 1996). Boys with dyslexia are impaired on a
wide variety of writing skills ( handwriting, spelling,
written composition, and related neuropsychological
processes in our family genetics phenotyping battery;
Berninger, Nielsen, Abbott, Wijsman, & Raskind, 2005;
Nielsen, Berninger, & Raskind, 2005).
Nature and Nurture
Although some think of the biological and experiential
influences on learning and its disorders as mutually ex-
clusive, independent factors, it is more likely that they
are interacting variables. In this section, we consider
studies of environmental influences, genetic influences,
and then of combined brain imaging and instructional
interventions to study nature-nurture interactions in in-
dividuals with learning disabilities.
Role of Education and Experience
Although developmental research historically empha-
sized the biologically constrained maturational
processes in development, during the past 15 years there
has been a more balanced approach that acknowledges
the role of experience. Morrison, Smith, and Dow-
Ehrensberger (1995) conducted groundbreaking school
cutoff studies showing that children who just made the
cutoff and entered kindergarten outperformed, during
the current and subsequent years, their age-equivalent
peers who just missed the cutoff. Vellutino and Scan-
lons (e.g., Vellutino et al., 1996) longitudinal instruc-
tional study showed that explicit instruction could
eliminate many ( but not all) reading problems; these
findings, based on direct manipulation of experience,
added to those based on indirect measures of experience
(self-reported print exposure; Cunningham & Stanovich,
1998) to make the case that instruction and reading
experience matter (Morrison et al., 1995). A number of
longitudinal treatment studies pointed to the same con-
clusion: Reading problems could be prevented or the
severity of their expression reduced to a large extent
with appropriate early intervention, even if children
came from low-literacy homes (Foorman, Francis,
Fletcher, Schatschneider, & Mehta, 1998; Foorman
et al., 1996; Torgesen, Wagner, & Rashotte, 1997;
Torgesen et al., 1999). Yet, close scrutiny of data
showed that not all children were treatment responders
in early intervention (Torgesen, 2000) or over the course
of schooling (Shaywitz et al., 2003). That is, even though
most reading problems can be prevented with appropri-
ate instruction, some will not be totally eliminated be-
cause there is a genetic (Olson, 2004) and neurological
(Hynd, Semrud-Clikeman, Lorys, Novey, & Eliopulos,
1990; Shaywitz et al., 2003) basis for reading disability,
which may persist throughout schooling in some form in
some individuals.
Genetic Influences in Reading and Writing
Heritability studies with twins (e.g., Byrne et al., 2002;
Olson, Datta, Gayan, & DeFries, 1999; Olson, Fors-
berg, Wise, & Rack, 1994) and family genetics studies
(e.g., Chapman et al., 2003, 2004; Raskind, 2001,
Raskind et al., 2005) have documented genetic influ-
ences on reading disability. Genetic influences on
phonological processes and verbal working memory
emerge in the preschool years (Byrne et al., 2002).
These are the same two areas of functioning that we
observed showed the greatest genetic influences during
the school-age and adult years (Berninger, Abbott,
Thomson et al., 2005; Berninger & ODonnell, 2004).
Considering these genetic influences on processes
that affect ease of learning written language, students
would probably benefit from learning environments
that are optimally designed for their genetically
influenced, reading-related processing characteristics
(cf. Plomin, 1994) that include anomalies in phonologi-
cal processing and working memory (Swanson &
Siegel, 2001).
Brain Constraints in Infancy versus Plasticity of
the Brain during Childhood and Adult Years
Electrophysiological recording in newborns identified
event-related potential (ERP) components for speech
discrimination of stop consonants in consonant-vowel
patterns that predicted language development at age 3
and 5 and reading (including diagnosis of dyslexia) at
age 8 (D. Molfese et al., 2002). Newborn ERP record-
ings were more isolated within brain regions, and adults
showed more interactions between brain regions (D.
Molfese et al., 2002). Not only brain variables but also
social and other environmental variables influenced
reading development at the brain and behavioral levels
(V. Molfese & Molfese, 2002). Event-related potent-
waveforms change as a result of training in infants and
adults (D. Molfese et al., 2002).
432 A Developmental Approach to Learning Disabilities
Plasticity of Brain in Middle Childhood and
Adult Years
At least nine studies, using a range of imaging method-
ologies, including functional magnetic resonance imag-
ing (fMRI ), functional magnetic spectroscopic imaging,
magnetic source imaging, and electrophysiological
recordings of ERPs, now show that the brains of begin-
ning readers (Shaywitz et al., 2004; Simos et al., 2002),
developing readers (Aylward et al., 2003; Richards et al.,
2000, 2002; Temple et al., 2000, 2003), and adults (Eden
et al., 2004; D. Molfese et al., 2002) change in process-
ing related to reading in normal and disabled readers.
The University of Washington brain imaging studies
have shown that the brain responds to reading and
spelling instruction. The treatment that contained all the
instructional components recommended by the National
Reading Panel (Berninger, Nagy, et al., 2003) resulted in
significant lactate reduction (increased efficiency dur-
ing neural metabolism) in left frontal regions during
phonological judgment (Richards et al., 2002) and in-
creased fMRI Blood Oxygen-Dependent Level (BOLD)
activation in frontal and parietal regions (Aylward et al.,
2003). In both cases, pretreatment differences between
dyslexics and controls disappeared after treatment. Evi-
dence of treatment-specific brain responding (e.g.,
Richards et al., 2005) have also been observed, for exam-
ple, robust changes during scanning on a spelling task
following orthographic treatment but not morphological
treatment in dyslexics in grades 4, 5, and 6. Richards
et al. (2005) proposed a paradigm for analyzing the re-
sults of combined brain imaging and treatment studies
that takes into account (a) reliability of responding in
controls from time 1 to time 2, ( b) significant pretreat-
ment differences between dyslexics and controls in re-
gions that are reliably activated in controls, and (c)
significant change following treatment in those regions
in the direction of normalization (activating regions that
controls had activated or deactivating regions that con-
trols had not activated).
Prevention and Treatment Validity
We conclude this section on contributions of develop-
mental psychology to learning disabilities with an exam-
ple of a programmatic line of research at the University
of Washington that is grounded in theory of reading and
writing development and instructional interventions for
preventing and treating reading and writing disabilities.
Berninger, Stage, Smith, and Hildebrand (2001) pro-
posed a three-tier model to redirect psychologists atten-
tion from diagnosis of chronic failure in reading and
writing to early intervention and prevention. The first
tier focuses on screening for early intervention, similar
to approaches taken to prevent developmental psycho-
pathology and social-emotional problems (see Cicchetti
& Toth, Chapter 13, and Selman & Dray, Chapter 10,
this Handbook, this volume). The second tier focuses on
ongoing progress monitoring and supplementary inter-
vention throughout schooling. The third tier focuses on
differential diagnosis and specialized treatment for those
with persisting, biologically based specific learning
disabilities. At each tier, randomized controlled instruc-
tional experiments have been conducted, and the assess-
ment measures that were validated in the studies of
intraindividual and interindividual differences are used
as predictors of response to intervention and/or outcome
measures. In contrast to many instructional studies that
use convenience samples or school-identified samples,
our samples are ascertained on the basis of well-defined
subject inclusion criteria for individuals who are at risk
or disabled in specific reading or writing skills.
Randomized, Controlled, Longitudinal
Experimental Studies
A brief overview of findings is provided that is based on
large-scale studies in the schools for tiers 1 and 2 and
on smaller-scale studies at the University of Washing-
ton Multidisciplinary Center for Learning Disabilities
(UWLDC) for tier 3. A summary of instructional de-
sign principles implemented in all three tiers follows
the research review.
Effective Tier 1 and Tier 2 Reading Instruction
At-risk first graders improved more in word reading
when their attention was drawn explicitly to letters in
words corresponding to phonemes than to the whole
word (all letters and the word name; Berninger et al.,
1999). At-risk first graders learned taught words and
transfer words better when taught the alphabetic princi-
ple in isolation, in word context, and in story context
than when only phonological awareness of spoken words
was taught (Berninger, Abbott, et al., 2000). Explicit in-
struction for 20 minutes twice a week for 24 lessons
over a 4-month period resulted in half the at-risk read-
ers reaching grade level by the end of the year and main-
taining gains at the beginning and end of second grade;
the other half reached average levels after a second dose
Contributions of Developmental Psychology 433
of 24 additional, explicit lessons at the beginning of sec-
ond grade and maintained the gains at the end of second
grade (Berninger, Abbott et al., 2002).
Combined explicit instruction in reading comprehen-
sion and decoding led to greater improvement in word
decoding than decoding instruction alone for at-risk
second-grade readers (Berninger, Vermeulen, et al.,
2003). Integrated reading instruction aimed at linguistic
awareness, word decoding, automatic word reading, oral
reading fluency, and reading comprehension resulted in
greater improvement in word decoding and fluency than
did the regular, balanced reading program for at-risk
second-grade readers (Berninger, Abbott, Vermeulen, &
Fulton, in press).
Effective Tier 1 and Tier 2 Writing Instruction
First graders at risk in handwriting improved more in
handwriting legibility and automaticity than did chil-
dren in the contact control group or four alternative
handwriting treatments when given a treatment combin-
ing (a) studying numbered arrow cues in model letters,
and ( b) holding the letter forms in memory for increas-
ing duration. All children practiced composing from
teacher prompts, but only the treatment combining num-
bered arrow cues and writing letter forms from memory
generalized to both improved handwriting and better
compositional fluency (Berninger et al., 1997). At-risk
second-grade spellers given instruction in multiple cor-
respondences between units of written words and spo-
ken words did better in dictated spelling and spelling
during composition than did the control group given
phonological awareness training (Berninger, Vaughan,
et al., 1998). Training phonological awareness of six syl-
lable types in English had some added value to training
alphabetic principle for spelling polysyllabic words
(Berninger, Vaughan, et al., 2000). Explicit instruction
in alphabetic principle facilitated learning to spell
structure words that were not as phonologically pre-
dictable as content words, and explicit instruction in
planning, translating, and revising/reviewing led to im-
proved composing (Berninger, Vaughan, et al., 2002).
Effective Tier 3 Treatment in the
Multidisciplinary Center for
Learning Disabilities
Teaching struggling readers multiple correspondences
between units of written and units of spoken words
resulted in greater improvement in reading than teaching
a single correspondence (Hart, Berninger, & Abbott,
1997). At-risk spellers learned to spell equally well with
pencil or keyboard (Berninger, Abbott, et al., 1998). At-
risk writers taught integrated handwriting, spelling, and
composing skills improved more in each of these skills
than the controls at posttest and 6-month follow-up
(Berninger, Abbott, Whitaker, Sylvester, & Nolen, 1995).
Children taught content reading skills improved more
than those in the wait-list control group (Berninger, Ab-
bott, Abbott, Graham, & Richards, 2001). Morphological
awareness treatment improved rate of phonological de-
coding more than phonological awareness treatment did
(Berninger, Nagy, et al., 2003), suggesting that dyslexics
in upper elementary grades need to learn to coordinate
phonological, morphological, and orthographic processes
to develop efficient phonological decoding (see Figure
11.2). Morphological awareness training benefited the
spelling of pseudowords, and orthographic awareness
training benefited the spelling of real words (Berninger
& Hidi, in press).
It is never too late to remediate: Upper elementary
and middle school students responded positively to in-
structional interventions that emphasized linguistic
awareness and executive functions (Abbott & Berninger,
1999). See Hooper, Swartz, Wakely, deKruif, & Mont-
gomery, 2002, for the importance of executive functions
in writing.
Effective Tier 3 Treatment in Schools
Second graders meeting research criteria for dyslexia
who used rate criteria in phonological decoding training
and progress monitoring improved more in real
word reading than those who used accuracy criteria
(Berninger, Abbott, Billingsley, Nagy, 2001). For dyslex-
ics in grades 4, 5, and 6, prior attention training did not
transfer directly to improved written composition but
did lead to greater improvement in written composition,
compared to the control group, once written composition
instruction was introduced for both groups (Chenault,
Thomson, Abbott, & Berninger, in press). Prior attention
training also improved oral verbal fluency significantly
more in the treatment group that had received reading
fluency training.
Instructional Design Principles for Educational
Treatment for Biological Problems
All UWLDC treatment research is grounded in a nature-
nurture perspective. Dr. Raskind, the principal investi-
gator of the Family Genetics Study, emphasizes that
the value of genetics research lies in identifying the
434 A Developmental Approach to Learning Disabilities
subphenotypes that have a genetic basis so that instruction
is uniquely designed to help dyslexics overcome these ge-
netic influences. For example, based on the aggregation
(Raskind, Hsu, Thomson, Berninger, & Wijsman, 2000),
segregation (Wijsman et al., 2000), linkage and brain im-
aging results (Richards, Berninger, et al., submitted) for
aural nonword repetition, all our phonological training
starts with spoken words before we introduce the same
written words. Students clap the number of syllables and
count with color tokens the number of phonemes in each
word to develop precise phonological word forms before
they are ever shown the written form of the word.
Also, based on the finding of a unique genetic pathway
for rate of phonological decoding (Chapman, Raskind,
Thomson, Berninger, & Wijsman, 2003), we use rate cri-
teria for training alphabetic principle in Jibberwacky
words (our modification of Lewis Carrolls Jabberwocky)
to teach children to apply alphabetic principle when mean-
ing cues are not available; we use both accuracy and rate
criteria in progress monitoring (Berninger, Nagy, et al.,
2003). Children with persisting reading problems are typ-
ically assessed with pseudowords and often have aversive
reactions to them. We use them in instruction in playful
ways to reduce the negative affect associated with them.
Another instructional design principle is teaching to all
levels of language close in time and to low-level and high-
level skills close in time so that the working memory archi-
tecture works ef ficiently (Berninger & Abbott, 2003).
A final instructional design principle is externalizing
cognition for purposes of overcoming limitations in work-
ing memory and learning strategies for self-regulation
that do not require overt verbalization of rules. Instruc-
tional approaches that externalize cognition render stu-
dents ideas visible to themselves and to others so that
they can be objectively viewed and manipulated. Once
cognition is externalized, students can experiment with
their ideas in ways that are difficult to do internally
(possibly because of overloading working memory). We
externalize cognition through cue cards that are de-
signed to cue orthographic and phonological awareness
of units in the alphabetic principle during teacher-di-
rected instructional activities and for self-regulation
during independent reading and writing activities. (For
further information, see the chapter on instructional
design principles in Berninger & Abbott, 2003.)
Treatment Validity
A new approach to assessment examines the validity of
assessment-intervention links. Results of the UWLDC
programmatic research are relevant to treatment validity
and have been presented in a way practitioners can use in
practice with time-efficient branching diagnosis, vali-
dated instructional based assessment, and multilevel pro-
file assessment (Berninger, Dunn, & Alper, 2004).
Berninger and Abbott (2003) have developed lesson
plans based on the tier 1, tier 2, and tier 3 interventions.
Social and Cognitive Development
Although learning disabilities involving written lan-
guage are academic problems, they have important im-
plications for both social and cognitive development.
Using the gold-standard treatment research paradigm
(evaluate whether a new treatment has added value over
and beyond that usual treatment), Weiss, Catron,
Harris, and Phung (1999) showed that traditional psy-
chotherapy was no more effective than academic in-
struction in changing mental health status. This finding
implies that fostering academic learning may have posi-
tive effects on social and emotional development. More-
over, chronic cognitive learning problems can cause
social problems, even though social or emotional prob-
lems are not the initial cause of the learning
problems. Effective treatment may require both cogni-
tive and social /affective components. Many research-
supported approaches for fostering social /affective
development in the general education program are
now available (e.g., Frey et al., in press; Frey, Nolen,
Van Schoiack-Edstrom, & Hirschstein, 2005; Van
Schoiack-Edstrom, Frey, & Beland, 2002). Emotional
coaching implemented in whole classrooms consistently
throughout the school year may enhance learning by im-
proving social relationships in the classroom (Lovitt,
2005). Likewise, interventions designed to improve so-
cial relationships between teachers and students are
proving fruitful in enhancing school learning (Pianta,
1999; see Vaughn, Sinaguh, & Kim, 2004, for a review
of social competence and social skills of students with
learning disabilities).
ALTERNATIVE APPROACHES TO
DEFINING LEARNING DISABILITIES
In this section controversies regarding how to define
learning disabilities for purposes of research and of ser-
vice delivery in the schools are discussed, along with
recent developments that take into account response to
Alternative Approaches to Defining Learning Disabilities 435
early intervention in identifying students with learning
disabilities.
Defining Reading Disabilities for
Research Purposes
There is a continuing lack of consensus around
the world about how to define dyslexia (one kind
of specific reading disability; Chapman et al., 2003,
2004; Igo et al., 2005; Raskind et al., 2005), which
may confound interpretation of results across research
groups. We adopted the definition proposed by
the International Dyslexia Association (Lyon, Shay-
witz, & Shaywitz, 2003) in the UWLDC Family
Genetics Study: unexpectedly low word reading, de-
coding, spelling, and oral reading fluency of neurobio-
logical origin.
The Verbal Comprehension Factor ( based on pro-
rated Verbal IQ without arithmetic or digit span sub-
tests) is used rather than Full-Scale IQ in determining
relative criteria for two reasons. First , evidence from
studies funded by the National Institutes of Health
(NIH) and available at the time this family genetics
study began showed that Verbal IQ (VIQ) is a better
predictor than Performance IQ of reading disability in
referred samples (Greenblatt , Mattis, Trad, 1990) and
unreferred samples (Vellutino, Scanlon, & Tanzman,
1991). Second, since then, the publishers of the Wech-
sler scales recommend using factor scores rather than
Full-Scale IQ in identifying students with learning
disabilities (e.g., Prifitera, Weiss, & Saklofske,
1998). Also, site visit reviewers in 1995 recommended
setting an IQ cutoff at the 25th percentile (standard
score of 90 for a scale with a mean of 100 and stan-
dard deviation of 15) because it is well documented
that prevalence of developmental disorders of genetic
origin is significantly higher in children whose IQs
fall in the bottom quartile of the population, and these
genetic disorders may cause development to fall out-
side the normal range in specific developmental do-
mains, including cognitive, language, motor,
attention/executive, and/or social-emotional func-
tion, and could confound a study seeking the genetic
mechanisms for a specific learning disorder that af-
fects only written language in children whose devel-
opment is otherwise normal. In addition, the
NIH-funded research of Olson et al. (1999) showed
that reading disabilities identified on the basis of rel-
ative criteria ( low reading relative to IQ) are more
likely to have a genetic basis than those identified
only on the basis of low achievement.
The size of VIQ-achievement discrepancy that we
required (at least 1 standard deviation) is much less
than that required by the special education law in the
state where this research was conducted and that is
used by other research groups, particularly in England.
So that the discrepancy could not be attributed to nor-
mal intraindividual variation, we required that the
achievement be below the population mean as well as
discrepant from IQ on the inclusion measures for read-
ing and spelling. This approach, using simple differ-
ences relative to VIQ and low achievement relative to
the population mean, has been fruitful in genetic link-
age studies that replicated others work (Chapman
et al., 2004) and identified novel chromosome sites for
fluency-related subphenotypes for dyslexia (Igo et al.,
in press; Raskind et al., 2005).
Definitions Related to Providing Services
in Schools
Berninger, Hart, Abbott, and Karovsky (1992) adopted a
systems approach (of multiple component processes in
the reading and writing systems) and applied the Maha-
lanobis statistic to determine how many students might
be at risk for specific kinds of learning disabilities. Ma-
halanobis D
2
measures the distance a set of scores is
from the centroid formed by the means of the joint distri-
bution of the scores, taking the correlations among the
measures into account. For two scores, Mahalanobis mea-
sures the distance that the value of X is from the mean of
X and the distance that the value of Y is from the mean
of Y, taking the XY correlation into account. In regres-
sion, only the distance of the predicted Y from the actual
Y is considered. Results showed that different children
were identified depending on whether only low achieve-
ment was considered or whether that and discrepancy
from VIQ were both considered. We therefore took the
position that flexible definitions, based on both absolute
( low achievement) and relative (IQ-achievement discrep-
ancy) criteria, were needed to meet the needs of all stu-
dents in educational settings. In our early intervention,
we studied any child whose VIQ appeared to be at least
in the low-average range (standard score of 6 on the
Wechsler Intelligence Scale for Children, third edition
[WISC-III] Vocabulary subtest) and whose word reading
and/or decoding accuracy was at least 1 standard devia-
tion below the mean. However, in our family genetics
436 A Developmental Approach to Learning Disabilities
research, we took a different approach based on existing
research literature at the time and feedback from the site
visitors, as previously explained.
We recognize that there is widespread dissatisfaction
with the rigid approach to IQ-achievement discrepancy
for qualifying students for special education services
(e.g., Bradley et al., 2002; Lyon et al., 2001; Siegel,
1989; Steubing et al., 2002; Vellutino, Scanlon, & Lyon,
2000). Others (e.g., Fletcher et al., 1994) used other
data analysis approaches to support the claim that the
same children are identified for special education ser-
vices whether IQ is or is not used. However, those
analyses were conducted in a state that uses different
criteria for identifying students with learning disabili-
ties for special education and for dyslexia in general ed-
ucation. The results of the Mahalanobis analyses and
procedures in place in our state lead to a different con-
clusion, and we are concerned that all students with
learning differences are served appropriately: those
with low IQs, those with high IQs, and all those in be-
tween (Berninger, 1998).
Thus, the flexibility in the recently revised federal
special education law (IQ-achievement discrepancy
shall not be the sole criterion for identifying learning
disabilities) will allow school professionals in many
states to serve students whose learning disabilities ex-
press themselves in ways that are difficult to capture in
a single diagnostic algorithm and also to focus more on
early intervention than in the past. The concept of re-
sponse to intervention, discussed next, is relevant to the
new approach to identifying children needing special
help in reading and writing.
Response to Instruction
This emerging approach for defining learning disabil-
ityfailure to respond to interventionis relevant in
early childhood. Rice (1913) conducted the first large-
scale application of the scientific method to evaluate ef-
fective educational methods based on student response
to instruction. She studied spelling instruction in class-
rooms throughout the United States and found that chil-
dren who received 15 minutes of spelling instruction a
week achieved significantly higher spelling test scores
than those who were drilled for an hour or more a week.
This result suggests that explicitness of instruction may
be more important than intensity. Chall (1967/1996)
showed that primary grade children responded better to
explicit phonics instruction than to the basals in use at
that time. Brown and Felton (1990) reported evidence
that explicit phonics instruction was associated with
better student learning outcomes. Despite this research
knowledge regarding the importance of explicit phonics
instruction, many teachers in the last 3 decades of the
twentieth century favored whole-language methods over
explicit reading instruction. Left untreated, early read-
ing problems persist (Juel, 1988). Thus, it was not al-
ways clear whether reading disabilities resulted from a
biological basis or lack of explicit instruction.
In 1993, NIH sponsored a working conference
for researchers in the field of learning disabilities at
which these issues were discussed; it resulted in
New Frames of Measurement (Lyon, 1994). Analyzing
change by modeling individual growth (Francis,
Fletcher, Stuebing, Davidson, & Thompson, 1991) was
a theme in the NIH conference on new frames of mea-
surement. Berninger and Abbott (1994) proposed re-
sponse to intervention as a research tool to control for
effects due to lack of opportunity to learn. We subse-
quently carried out our proposed research on early in-
tervention in reading and writing outlined in our
chapter for the conference. Results were analyzed for
individual growth curves, treatment effects, classes of
responses (faster and slower responses to instruction),
and process measures that predicted individual re-
sponse to treatment (the earlier discussed tier 1 and
tier 2 interventions).
Following that conference, Slavin, Madden, Dolan,
and Wasik (1996) showed that the effects of poverty and
low literacy could be overcome by changing educational
practice at the system level. Vellutino and colleagues
(1996) showed that longitudinal early intervention in
reading could eliminate most ( but not all) reading dis-
abilities. Compton (2000a, 2000b, 2002, 2003a, 2003b)
documented that (a) there are individual differences
prior to the beginning of instruction, ( b) dynamic
change occurs in response to instruction for children in
general, and (c) processes such as phonological aware-
ness, knowledge of letter-sound correspondence, and
rapid automatic naming predict the slopes of individual
growth curves.
From its inception (Deno, Marston, & Mirkin,
1982; Fuchs, 1986; Fuchs, Deno, & Mirkin, 1984), cur-
riculum-based measurement (CBM) has been a prog-
ress-monitoring, response to intervention model.
Unfortunately, with the widespread use of literature-
Alternative Approaches to Defining Learning Disabilities 437
based texts in the whole-language movement, it was
often not possible to link the assessment to actual in-
struction, and CBM made increasing use of standard
passages unrelated to those used during classroom in-
struction. Nevertheless, at a time when prevailing prac-
tices were to assess only accuracy and not rate, even
though children may have either accuracy and rate
reading disabilities or only rate disabilities (Lovett,
1987), CBM provided a useful fluency metric. Another
contribution of CBM was that it encouraged teachers to
assess student progress on a more regular basis than
typically happens in the general education classroom
or than is required by federal special education law
(every 3 years). A new form of CBM, instructionally
based assessment, which is more closely yoked to
teachers instructional goals and cognitive processes
for adapting instruction, has been introduced (Peverley
& Kitzen, 1998; Wong, 2000) and is used in the
UWLDC reading and writing lessons (Berninger &
Abbott, 2003). One view is that norm-referenced tests
are not sensitive to change in response to instruction,
but we have not found that to be the case for the explicit
instructional treatments we evaluated in randomized,
controlled designs. Thus, we use a mix of standardized
tests and instructionally based assessments in evaluat-
ing response to instruction.
Processes That Mediate Written
Language Learning
Some believe that all that needs to be done to prevent
reading and writing disabilities is to teach children. Oth-
ers value the importance of assessment of mediating
processes and designing instruction that improves these
processes in the context of comprehensive reading and
writing instruction. A large body of research points to
processes that are concurrent and longitudinal predictors
of written language acquisition: phonological (e.g.,
Bishop & Snowling, 2004; Catts et al., 2001; Catts, Fey,
Tomblin, & Zhang, 2002; Manis et al., 1999; Mattingly,
1972; Scarborough, 1998; Snowling, 1980; Stanovich,
1986; Torgesen et al., 1997; Vellutino & Scanlon, 1987;
Wagner et al., 1994); letter naming (Catts et al., 2001),
rapid letter naming (Compton, 2003a, 2003b; Manis
et al., 1999; Meyer, Wood, Hart, & Felton, 1998; Wolf
et al., 1986), rapid switching between letter and number
naming (Wolf, 1986) or rate (Wolf, 1999); orthographic
(e.g., Berninger, Abbott, Thomson, et al., 2001, in press;
Olson, Forsberg, & Wise, 1994; Schlagal, 1992); morpho-
logical (Carlisle, 2000; Carlisle & Stone, 2004; Carlisle
et al., 2001; Nagy & Anderson, 1984; Nagy, Anderson,
Shommer, Scott, & Stallman, 1989; Nagy, Berninger, Ab-
bott, Vaughan, & Vermeulen, 2003; Singson, Mahony, &
Mann, 2000; White et al., 1989); syntactic (e.g., Scarbor-
ough, 1990); and attention (Berninger et al., 1999; Thom-
son et al., 2005; Torgesen et al., 1999). Individual
differences in both vocabulary and phonological skills
predict whether children require teacher-directed, ex-
plicit instruction to respond optimally to instruction
(Connor, Morrison, & Katch, 2004). Just as medical pro-
fessionals now screen newborns for markers of medical
disorders that can be prevented (e.g., mental retardation
or other handicaps due to phenylketonuria, thyroid defi-
ciency, RH factor incompatibility), so should educational
professionals now screen children during early or middle
childhood for marker processes associated with specific
reading or writing disabilities and, when necessary,
provide supplementary or specialized instruction with
frequent progress monitoring (assessment of student re-
sponse to instruction) and instructional adaptation as
needed.
Developmental Expression of
Dyslexia Subphenotype(s)
Which of the processes that impair written language
learning in early or middle childhood are impaired
throughout development? In a dyslexia phenotyping
study based on families who were enrolled after a major
revision in the test battery, we sought the developmen-
tally stable, impaired processes. Based on relative crite-
ria (for VIQ) and absolute criteria (for population
mean), on average, child probands (n = 122; affected
children who qualified the family) had a mean of 6.0
(SD = 2.8) deficits on the nine reading measures used
for inclusion and a mean of 4.1 deficits on the six writ-
ing measures used for inclusion. Their affected parents
had on average a mean of 1.9 (SD = 1.7) deficits on the
same reading measures and 1.8 (SD = 1.6) deficits on
the same writing measures.
Table 11.1 summarizes which subphenotypes met
both absolute ( low achievement at or below 1 SD) and
relative (at least 15 standard score points difference
between VIQ and measure based on transformation to
make scales comparable if necessary) criteria at each
developmental level. Six met both criteria at both
438 A Developmental Approach to Learning Disabilities
Table 11.1 Impaired Phenotypes Based on Absolute and
Relative Criteria in Children Only and Children and Adults
with Dyslexia
Child and CTOPP nonword repetition, TOWRE pseudoword
adult reading efficiency, Wolf RAN letter naming, UW
alphabet letter writing, Wolf RAS letter and number,
and Wolf RAS color, letter, and number.
Note: D-KEF color word inhibition and verbal
f luency repetitions met only the relative criteria in
both child and adult dyslexics.
Child only WRMT-R Word Identification and Word Attack,
TOWRE sight word efficiency, GORT3 accuracy and
rate, UW morphological decoding and accuracy,
WRAT 3 and WIAT II spelling, WIAT II written
expression, PAL receptive and expressive orthographic
coding, CTOPP phoneme reversal, Wolf RAN color,
Wolf RAN number, D-KEF color word inhibition.
Note: Only in child dyslexics did inhibition on the
Stroop meet both absolute and relative criteria.
Adult only None.
Notes: CTOPP = Comprehensive Test of Phonological Processing;
D-KEF = Delis Kaplan Executive Functions; PAL = Process As-
sessment of the Learner; RAN = Rapid Automatic Naming; RAS =
Rapid Automatic Switching; TOWRE = Test of Word Reading Effi-
ciency; WIAT II = Wechsler Individual Achievement Test , second
edition; WRAT3 = Wide Range Achievement Test , third edition;
WRMT-R = Woodcock Reading Mastery Test Revised.
Source: From Modeling Developmental Phonological Core
Deficits within a Working-Memory Architecture in Children and
Adults with Developmental Dyslexia, by V. Berninger, R. Abbott ,
J. Thomson, et al., in Scientific Studies in Reading, in press; and
Research-Supported Differential Diagnosis of Specific Learning
Disabilities (pp. 189233), by V. Berninger and L. ODonnell, in
WISC-IV Clinical Use and Interpretation: Scientist-Practitioner Per-
spectives, A. Prifitera, D. Saklofske, L. Weiss, & E. Rolf hus (Eds.),
2004, San Diego: Academic Press.
developmental levels and are stable hallmark features
across development. Many subphenotype measures met
both criteria in children but not adults and thus are
more likely to show compensation (normalization) over
development. No impairments met both criteria only in
the adults, but the adults met both the absolute and rel-
ative criteria for impaired real word reading efficiency
but not for real word reading accuracy (Berninger &
ODonnell, 2004); and real word reading accuracy and
rate appear to have different genetic mechanisms based
on chromosome linkage (Igo et al., in press).
The stable impaired skills represent the three compo-
nents of working memory: phonological storage (aural
nonword repetition), phonological loop (rapid letter
naming and writing), and executive functions (switching
attention and inhibition; e.g., Baddeley, 2002; Baddeley
& Della Sala, 1996). The stable phonological deficits
(cf. Morris et al., 1998) may explain the word decoding
problems, and the set of all three deficits may explain
the persistent fluency problems of dyslexics due to inef-
ficient working memory (Berninger, Abbott, Thomson,
et al., in press; Berninger & ODonnell, 2004).
The findings raised new questions we are still inves-
tigating. The phonological loop has a role in learning
new written words by coordinating linguistic codes
(e.g., Baddeley, Gathercole, & Papagano, 1998) and in
accessing familiar words rapidly and efficiently in
long-term memory. Does the RAN deficit reflect the
impaired time-sensitive phonological loop? Did the
Vicar of Nibbleswicke, whom Roald Dahl introduced
us to, have a recurrence of childhood dyslexia moments
with written text in his adult years when he faced his
first adult job as a pastor delivering sermons where he
transposed the sounds in spoken words (e.g., God and
dog; Dahl, 1990)? If inefficiency in the executive func-
tions for phonologically coded working memory is the
underlying problem, it may make it more difficult to
learn to read (coordinate spoken and written words) in
childhood but also to express oneself later in life when
working memory is being taxed as in learning a new job
and may affect oral expression as well as reading or
written expression. More than phonological decoding
may be impaired in dyslexia.
Research-Supported Inclusionary Criteria
Resolving issues of definition for research purposes
is also important for educational practice if both assess-
ment and instruction are ever to be grounded in
scientific research. It is no wonder that educators are con-
fused about what dyslexia is and whether it exists if nei-
ther federal legislation nor professionals can define it on
the basis of inclusionary criteria. Toward the goal of de-
veloping inclusionary criteria, we carefully examined
cases of children who did and did not have discrepancies
between VIQ and reading and spelling achievement.
Based on Snow (1994) and Snow, Cancino, Gonzales, and
Shriberg (1989), Nagy, who is on the UWLDC research
team, proposed that defining words is really a metalin-
guistic awareness index of a childs ability to use words
in a decontextualized manner, distinct from contextual-
Alternative Approaches to Defining Learning Disabilities 439
ized use of language in conversation (see Berninger, Ab-
bott, Vermeulen, et al., in press). It follows that VIQ,
which is highly correlated with expressive vocabulary,
may be a general metalinguistic awareness index.
Further group analyses showed that dyslexics ap-
peared to be primarily impaired in phonological and or-
thographic processing, rapid automatic naming, and
executive functions (such as supervisory switching at-
tention and inhibition) but to have intact oral language
skills for morphology and syntax, that is, good metalin-
guistic awareness at those levels of language. However,
the language learning disabled (Butler & Silliman, 2002;
Wallach & Butler, 1994) children appeared to be im-
paired in those oral language skills as well as in phono-
logical skills and also to be more impaired in reading
comprehension than the dyslexics. Their impaired met-
alinguistic awareness of morphology and syntax may ac-
count for their lower VIQs.
Differential diagnosis for dyslexia versus language
learning disability has implications for research and
treatment. Dyslexics and language learning disabled in-
dividuals are probably included in many studies of read-
ing disability, and results may or may not generalize
across studies depending on the relative proportion of
these individuals in a particular study. For dyslexics, all
that may be needed is explicit instruction in ortho-
graphic and phonological awareness and decoding, but
for those with language learning disability affecting all
aspects of metalinguistic awareness, effective treatment
may require explicit instruction in phonological, mor-
phological, and syntactic awareness.
Drawing on Challs (1983) observation that students
first learn to read and then use reading to learn, we
have observed that the language learning disabled have
significant problems in using language to learn. School
learning requires using language to understand teach-
ers instructional language, using language to self-
regulate the internal mental processes in learning
across the academic curriculum, and using language to
self-regulate emotions and behavior. Thus, the lan-
guage learning disabled need special instruction in
using language to learn. The Appendix describes as-
sessment procedures for the differential diagnoses
among dyslexia, language learning disability, and dys-
graphia (also see Berninger & ODonnell, 2004). In ad-
dition, some individuals have specific comprehension
disability without any language disability (e.g., Oakhill
& Yull, 1996) or combinations of dyslexia, dysgraphia,
and/or language learning disability.
Differential Diagnosis for Teaching
versus Labels
Many parents and teachers reject terms such as learning
disabilities as labels that stigmatize and do not make a
difference in instruction. In contrast, we use the terms
dyslexia, dysgraphia, and language learning disability
because they identify both the nature of the problem and
the need for specialized instruction in the affected aca-
demic skills:
Dyslexia: Impaired word reading and spelling (see
Berninger, 2001)
Dysgraphia: Impaired handwriting and/or spelling
(forming the letters of the language by hand; see
Berninger, 2004b)
Language learning disability: Impairments in both
aural /oral and written language (see Berninger &
ODonnell, 2004)
These terms can be used in the general education pro-
gram, without the legal and paperwork constraints of
special education, as well as in special education.
Effective Instruction for Dyslexia and Dysgraphia
Although there is a long-standing clinical research litera-
ture on treating dyslexia and specific reading disabilities,
studies employing randomized, controlled designs have
increased in recent years. Three programmatic lines of
research on effective treatment of children with dyslexia
include the groundbreaking studies of Wise and Olson at
the University of Colorado Learning Disabilities Center
with Talking Computers (e.g., Wise, Ring, & Olson,
1999), Lovett and colleagues at Toronto Childrens Hos-
pital (e.g., Lovett et al., 1994, 2000), and Torgesen and
colleagues (e.g., Torgesen et al., 1999, 2001). More re-
cently, a large randomized controlled study across three
sites was conducted by Morris, Wolf, and Lovett (Wolf
et al., 2003).
There has been a recent explosion of knowledge in
evidence-based, effective reading instruction (e.g.,
McCardle & Chhabra, 2004; National Reading Panel,
2000; Snow, Burns, & Griffin, 1998); although there is
not as much knowledge available for writing instruc-
tion, there is some (e.g., Berninger & Richards, 2002,
chap. 9; Hooper et al., 1993; Swanson, Harris, & Gra-
ham, 2003, chaps. 16, 20, 21). High-stakes tests in
440 A Developmental Approach to Learning Disabilities
many states require writing skills for assessing all do-
mains, not just reading (Jenkins, Johnson, & Hileman,
2004). Also, many of the reviews of research-supported
instruction are focused on early readingand in the
general education classroom. There is need for continu-
ing research on instructional interventions that are ef-
fective across development and that are validated for
specific kinds of learning and development problems,
including but not restricted to dyslexia and dysgraphia.
Effective Instruction for Language
Learning Disability
Little is known about effective reading or writing treat-
ment for students with reading disabilities and additional
oral language disabilities, which increasingly are re-
ferred to as language learning disabilities (e.g., Butler &
Silliman, 2002; Wallach & Butler, 1994). In our experi-
ence, these children show mild to moderate indicators of
difficulty in learning aural /oral language during the pre-
school years; although these oral language problems re-
solve in terms of production during the school-age years,
lingering problems in metalinguistic awareness remain
that may affect oral as well as written language. They
may also have written expression problems (Fey, Catts,
Proctor-Williams, Tomblin, & Zhang, 2004). Effective
treatment is needed to help them improve in using decon-
textualized language to learn (to self-regulate internal
learning processes for reading and writing and across the
content subjects in the curriculum). They may learn
more easily nonverbally (the twenty-first-century cur-
riculum is very verbally oriented), but more research is
needed on this issue.
Summary Position on Definitional Issues
We believe the trends toward more flexible criteria for
qualifying children for services in the schools and the
addition of a response to intervention component are
steps in the right direction to prevent severe learning
disabilities. Response to intervention will establish dy-
namic assessment as standard psychological practice
(see Grigorenko & Sternberg, 1998; Lidz & Elliott,
2000). At the same time, it is important to retain com-
prehensive assessment and introduce scientifically sup-
ported differential diagnosis that has treatment validity
for those who fail to respond to early intervention and
have biologically based learning disabilities. Differen-
tial diagnosis relies on cognitive tests and associated
phenotypic markers of specific learning disabilities.
CONTINUING CHALLENGES
Validity of Special Education Categorical
versus Research-Supported Practices
The special education categories for qualifying children
for services are not the same as research-supported di-
agnoses (Berninger, 1998). The shortcomings of the cat-
egories for qualifying children for special education
services go beyond problems in IQ-achievement discrep-
ancy the way it has been implemented. Often, cluster
scores that are composites of more than one subtest are
used to qualify students for special education services.
This practice is problematic because when subtests are
combined; a relative strength on one subtest may mask
impairment on another subtest that contributes to the
cluster. For example, beginning at-risk readers show in-
traindividual dif ferences in the growth curves for real
word reading and pseudoword reading (Berninger, Ab-
bott, et al., 2002). Children who show significant
growth in both of these single-word reading skills have
the best outcomes; those who show significant growth in
only one of these have significantly lower outcomes in
reading. Combining these two subtests may miss a sig-
nificant deficit in either pseudoword reading or real
word reading that has important implications for diagno-
sis and treatment (see Berninger & ODonnell, 2004).
Likewise, in computing IQ-writing achievement dis-
crepancy, only accuracy measures of writing achieve-
mentcluster scores on the Woodcock-Johnson, third
edition (WJ-III ) or Wechsler Individual Achievement
Test, second edition (WIAT-II ) that confound quality
of writing samples and writing fluencyare often
used. In addition, impaired spelling, handwriting, or
compositional fluency are often not recognized as
learning disabilities, but 15 years of our National
Institute of Child Health and Human Development
(NICHD) supported research indicates they are. For
example, higher scores on WJ-III Writing Samples (an
untimed test that does not require sustained writing
and that is scored for content and ideas but not the me-
chanics of written expression with which students with
learning disabilities have difficulty) may mask prob-
lems in writing fluency (speed of composing). How-
ever, when WJ-III Writing Samples is compared to
writing fluency or writing fluency is compared to VIQ,
the disparity is evident (significantly lower writing flu-
ency) and typically is confirmed through examination
of daily written work.
Continuing Challenges 441
Thus, children with persisting reading or spelling
problems may not qualify for any specialized instruction
if they are significantly impaired in (a) accuracy of
word decoding (reading pseudowords) but not word
reading (real words) or of real word but not pseudoword
reading; ( b) rate of single word or pseudoword reading
or rate of oral reading of passages; (c) spelling; and/or
(d) handwriting. It does not matter if it is obvious that
the child cannot read classroom materials with accuracy
and fluency, spell at a grade-appropriate level in daily
written work, and/or has illegible or painfully slow
handwriting. There also is no procedure in place to iden-
tify or serve students with language learning disability,
which may account for more cases of specific learning
disability than classic dyslexia or dysgraphia.
The Problem Is Lack of Knowledge, Not
Lack of Money
Given the sociopolitical context in which we conduct our
research (11 local schools have sued the state superin-
tendent of education, director of special education, and
governor because they do not think they have enough
money to teach students who qualify for special educa-
tion), we frequently remind educators that there is noth-
ing in the special education law that says it is illegal or
unethical or unprofessional to help students with learning
disabilities in the general education program by imple-
menting research-supported assessment and teaching
practices. Although qualifying students for special edu-
cation is sometimes an appropriate goal, some parents
want appropriate diagnosis and services in general educa-
tion. Unfortunately, schools are reluctant to accept the
research-based definitions of learning disability (many of
which have been shown to have a genetic or neurological
basis) because they fear the state auditors will penalize
them by decreasing their funding if they do not use the
current legally mandated procedures even if they are not
supported by research and children who have obvious
reading or writing problems do not qualify under one of
the existing legal definitions. Even though the federal
regulations now require that science-based reading in-
struction be used in schools accepting No Child Left Be-
hind funding, there are no regulations that support use of
scientifically supported diagnostic categories for diag-
nosing or treating reading, writing, or math disabilities.
Although students with tier 3 problems benefit from
specialized instruction, it is not cost-effective to provide
all of their reading, writing, and math instruction in
pull-out programs. Therefore, students with these spe-
cific learning disabilities in reading, writing, math, or
language learning should be given the option of a spe-
cial section within general education taught by a quali-
fied teacher who provides explicit, language-based,
intellectually engaging instruction. Although affected
individuals can learn to decode and read real words if
given appropriate, explicit instruction, the underlying
genetic basis for the disorder appears to exert its effects
in different ways as affected individuals advance in
schooling and the curriculum requirements change. Per-
sisting spelling and written expression problems and
silent reading fluency problems are typically observed
in older students unless new kinds of instructional inter-
ventions are put in place. Unfortunately, many schools
offer older students only accommodations rather than
continuing explicit instruction aimed at fluent reading,
spelling, and written expression and executive func-
tions. Schools might benefit from a return to the flexible
model of building-based, well-trained academic learn-
ing specialists who provide direct services and also
collaborate with teachers to plan and implement differ-
entiated instruction. Such an approach would necessi-
tate more comprehensive teacher training in explicit
instruction strategies (e.g., Cunningham, 1990) and do-
main knowledge relevant to literacy (e.g., Cunningham,
Perry, Stanovich, & Stanovich, 2004; McCutchen &
Berninger, 1999).
High-Stakes Tests
Based on the experiences of students in our research
studies, we wonder whether the high-stakes tests, which
are aimed at high-level thinking skills, are adequately
assessing low-level decoding, word reading, fluency,
handwriting, and spelling skills that can compromise
performance on daily school assignments, whether or
not students pass the high-stakes tests. (See Figure 11.1,
which is a recent writing sample from an eighth grader
who passed the high-stakes test in writing.)
Another issue is that high-stakes tests often require
writing across all academic domains (reading, math,
and writing; Jenkins et al., 2004). Many students who
have writing rather than reading problems may perform
poorly on these tests because, although they have the
domain-specific knowledge, they lack adequate writing
skills to express what they know. As one adolescent
suicide survivor told me, I am good at math [and indi-
vidually administered psychometric tests support this
442 A Developmental Approach to Learning Disabilities
self-perception] and I can explain my math thinking by
talking, but I cannot explain my math thinking in writ-
ing. I thought my life was over because I can do math
but not write about it. Although federal initiatives em-
phasize the importance of research-supported reading
instruction and now annual reading and math assess-
ment, they have not yet included writing in that mandate
for scientifically supported instruction and annual as-
sessment. Many students who are failing in course work
or achieving far below grade-appropriate levels are mis-
takenly thought to be not motivated; yet, when they are
given tests of writing-related processes validated in re-
search, they are typically shown to have undiagnosed
and untreated writing disabilities (Berninger & Hidi, in
press). Introducing research-supported writing inter-
ventions so that they can become successful in writing
often transforms a reluctant writer into an able and will-
ing writer.
Increasingly, students with learning disabilities are
brought to our attention because they have not passed the
high-stakes test or teachers fear they will not pass it. One
of the worst cases we have encountered was the school
who refused to listen to parents concerns that their child
was not learning to read during the early grades. Later, a
teacher asked the parents to agree to a special education
placement for learning disabilities so that the childs
scores on the high-stakes test would not bring down her
class average. According to the UWLDC assessment re-
sults, the child was a nonreader. Had tier 1 research-sup-
ported screening and early intervention been in place in
this school, this child would probably not have had years
of chronic failure and likely would have been a reader and
writer. There are many more such stories that constantly
remind us that there is still an enormous job yet to be done
in educating educators about learning disabilities and ef-
fectively teaching students with learning disabilities.
PROFESSIONALS WHO PRACTICE
THE THREE Cs: CARE, CONNECT,
AND COMMUNICATE
Instructional Research Is Necessary but
Not Sufficient
Basic laboratory research may not generalize to real-
world settings. Therefore, when applying research re-
sults, the effectiveness of the implementation should also
be evaluated on the basis of evidence. Achieving desired
results in practice may well require both art as well as
science. The art involves clinical skills for direct services
and consulting with other professionals (Rosenfield,
1987; Rosenfield & Gravois, 1996). Over the years, we
have encountered many dedicated, competent profession-
als who work hard and effectively to help students with
learning disabilities. At the same time, we have encoun-
tered many cases in which the students were not being
served well and the schools were resistant to outside pro-
fessional assistance in helping the students with learning
disabilities.
Professional Approach
In our professional preparation program for psycholo-
gists, I emphasize the three Cs for effective clinical prac-
tice: caring about the individuals affected with learning
disabilities, connecting with them and their families, and
communicating effectively with parents and teachers re-
garding ways to help children with learning disabilities.
This kind of professional practice, reflecting the spirit of
federal legislation that guarantees the civil rights of chil-
dren with educationally handicapping conditions, cannot
be legislated. It involves opening ones heart to others
(see Open Hearts, the March 2 reflection in Native
Wisdom for White Minds, Schaef, 1995). Well-trained
professionals, knowledgeable about scientifically sup-
ported assessment and instruction, able to open their
hearts to care about the plight of children who learn dif-
ferently because of biological influences (which make it
harder but not impossible to learn) are as necessary as
laws to optimize academic success during childhood and
workplace success during adulthood of individuals with
specific learning disabilities. Professionals who practice
the three Cs develop collaborative rather than adversarial
relationships with parents. Because the parents know that
the educators care, there is no need to turn to lawyers
who are not professional educators to resolve disputes.
This emphasis on caring about others is consistent with
progressive pedagogy that underscores the need to meet
student strengths and needs (Barth, 2002; Bruner, 1966;
Dewey, 1963) through caring (Noddings, 1992).
VISION OF APPROPRIATE
EDUCATION FOR STUDENTS WITH
LEARNING DISABILITIES
This chapter ends with a vision of what could be so that
students like Susan, Sean, Sam, and Sharon do not come
to a standstill, flounder, or agonize over why no one can
teach them, or waste precious years of their lives be-
Vision of Appropriate Education for Students with Learning Disabilities 443
cause they learn in a different way. This vision does not
require more money, but rather more creative and intel-
ligent use of the limited resources available to schools so
that they are not needlessly drained by expensive legal
proceedings. What follows is implemented fully within
general education, with building-level flexibility, and
without special education auditors, paperwork, and
legal procedures. Special education still exists to pro-
vide an appropriate education for students with more se-
vere handicapping conditions, but those with dyslexia,
dysgraphia, and language learning disability are appro-
priately diagnosed and served within the general educa-
tion program in a manner that provides the specialized
instruction they require.
To begin with, schools make greater use of the lan-
guage arts block, during which all teachers at the same
grade level or across grade levels teach language arts at
the same time. In keeping with the continuum of explicit
instruction discussed earlier in the chapter, each school
designates at least one class or section at the elementary
and middle school level for offering explicit, intellectu-
ally engaging reading and writing instruction for those
who require, depending on grade level, highly explicit in-
struction for phonological, orthographic, and morpholog-
ical awareness (see Figure 11.2, p. 426), alphabetic
principle, word families, structure words, decoding, au-
tomatic word recognition, oral and silent reading flu-
ency, reading comprehension, handwriting automaticity,
spelling, compositional fluency, or genre-specific com-
posing, including report writing, note taking, study
skills, and test taking. Not all children require highly ex-
plicit instruction, but those with dyslexia, dysgraphia,
and language learning disability and others need this op-
tion in the general education curriculum. (See Berninger,
1998, and Berninger & Richards, 2002, for the inspiring
story of a special education teacher who organized such
a language arts block in the general education program
and showed that the children with learning disabilities
who start out behind can reach the same literacy out-
comes as their peers without learning disabilities if pro-
vided explicit, intellectually engaging instruction.)
The role of the school psychologist changes from giv-
ing a battery of tests for the sole purpose of deciding
whether children qualify for costly pull-out, special edu-
cation services, to that of assessment specialist (funded
by general education) who serves two important roles in
meeting the needs of students with learning disabilities.
First, the school psychologist organizes a schoolwide
screening and progress monitoring program. The purpose
of the tier 1 screening is to identify those students who
are at risk for dyslexia, dysgraphia, language learning
disability, or other developmental or learning problems.
When children show indications of being at risk, the
school psychologist shares this information with the gen-
eral educator (and parents, to create collaborative rather
than adversarial relationships) and uses problem-solving
consultation skills (Rosenfield, 1987; Rosenfield &
Gravois, 1996) to help the general educator provide dif-
ferentiated instruction to meet individual students in-
structional needs within a group setting. The school
psychologist also assists with progress monitoring so that
teachers, parents, and the children themselves know if
they are making reasonable progress in specific reading
and writing skills. Second, when a child is not making
adequate progress in response to the initial intervention
and possibly tier 2 additional intervention, the school
psychologist then conducts tier 3 assessment and admin-
isters standardized tests, obtains a developmental history
from parents, collects work samples, and observes the
child in the classroom to determine if any of the differen-
tial diagnoses in the Appendix or others apply. The goal
of diagnosis is to (a) understand why a child has strug-
gled, ( b) identify an educationally handicapping condi-
tion that qualifies the child for both explicit instruction
and accommodation in the regular program, and (c) plan
differentiated instruction for this student within the lan-
guage arts section that is explicit, intellectually engag-
ing, and appropriate for the diagnosis.
Had this kind of approach been in place, Susan would
have been identified in the kindergarten and first-grade
screening and given tier 1 supplementary reading and
writing instruction in the general education program. By
third grade, she would not have been at a standstill, but
would probably have been flagged again in fourth grade
for reading and writing rate and spelling problems and
then again given supplementary instruction for those
skills. Likewise, the teachers and psychologists would
have realized that just because Sean has learned to decode
and read with accuracy does not mean that his dyslexia no
longer has implications for his instructional needs. Sean
would have continued to receive explicit instruction in
silent reading fluency, spelling, and written composition
during the upper elementary grades until those skills
were well developed. Sam (see Figure 11.1, p. 423) would
not be begging for someone to teach him to read and write
better. What is unfortunate in his case is that with appro-
priate intervention at school (supplemented with univer-
sity assistance), Sam was reading and writing on grade
level up through the end of elementary school. He lost rel-
ative ground when all explicit instruction in reading and
444 A Developmental Approach to Learning Disabilities
writing was eliminated in middle school, highlighting the
necessity for sustained explicit instruction across school-
ing for students with dyslexia and dysgraphia (and also
language learning disability). Finally, Sharons mothers
pleas to have her assessed during the school years would
not have been dismissed with the misguided assumption
that she cannot possibly have a learning disability because
she is bright. Her dyslexia would have been diagnosed
and treated and she may even have fared better in learn-
ing a second language with specialized instruction; she
would have graduated from college at the same time as
her peers and found employment commensurate with a
college education.
Translating this vision of research into practice requires
keeping abreast of the rapidly expanding body of research
on learning disabilities. It also requires common sense,
caring, and commitment to educating all students, even
those who pose more challenges because they do not learn
as easily despite being intelligent. There is no teacher-
proof curriculum that will bring about this vision. Achiev-
ing this vision will require developing more informed and
collaborative relationships between educators and state
legislators to pass legislation that affirms the professional-
ism of educators entrusted with bringing about this vision
and delegates to them the responsibility of doing so.
APPENDIX WITH HALLMARK FEATURES
FOR DIFFERENTIAL DIAGNOSIS
Inclusionary Hallmark Criteria for Dyslexia
Constellation
Verbal IQ(or Verbal ComprehensionFactor) at least 90.
Meets at least one of the following criteria (most will
probably meet several):
Decoding or real word reading accuracy or rate is
below the population mean and at least 1 SD (15
standard score points) below VIQ.
Oral reading accuracy or rate is below the popu-
lation mean and at least 1 SD (15 standard score
points) below VIQ.
Spelling is below the population mean and at least
1 SD (15 standard score points) below VIQ.
Does not meet any exclusionary criteria related to
other neurodevelopmental disorder, brain injury or
disease, or psychiatric disorder, and is not an English-
language learner.
Comorbidity Issues
Oral language milestones are normal during the pre-
school years except in phonology. Rarely do the children
who meet this criterion meet the criteria for ADHD
specified in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual for
Mental Disorders (DSM-IV), but they do show individual
variation along a continuum of inattention ( based on
parental ratings).
Inclusionary Hallmark Criteria for Language
Learning Disability Constellation
Preschool history of some indicator of slower lan-
guage milestones (first words, first sentences, early
intervention in speech or expressive language).
Performance IQ or Perceptual Organization Factor
at least 90 (to reduce probability of confounding de-
velopmental neurogenetic disorders); WISC-III or
WISC-IV VIQ may be below 90 (or Vocabulary sub-
test below 8).
Meets at least one of the following criteria (most will
probably meet several):
Decoding or real word reading accuracy or rate at
least 1 SD below the mean.
Oral reading accuracy or rate at least 1 SD below the
mean.
Spelling at least 1 SD below the mean.
Oral or reading vocabulary at least 1 SD below the
mean.
Reading comprehension at least 1 SD below the
mean.
Does not meet any exclusionary criteria related to
other neurodevelopmental disorder, brain injury or
disease, or psychiatric disorder, and is not an English-
language learner.
Comorbidity Issues
The following indicators are typical: (a) slower
preschool language milestones, ( b) preschool motor mile-
stones are possibly slower, (c) some oral language skills
(morphological and syntactic awareness and sentence
formulation) during the school-age years are outside the
normal range, and (d) comorbid diagnosis of ADHD (es-
pecially Inattention), although the attention problems
may be the result of language-processing problems.
References 445
Inclusionary Hallmark Criteria for
Dysgraphia Constellation
No preschool history of slower language milestones
(first words, first sentences, early intervention in
speech or expressive language) but may have pre-
school indicators of motor delays or dyspraxias or at-
tentional difficulties.
VIQ at least 90.
Meets at least one of the following criteria (most will
probably meet several):
Does not meet the criteria for dyslexia for word
decoding, real word reading, or oral reading of
passages.
Does meet one or more of the following criteria:
Handwriting is below the population mean and
either at least 15 standard score points below
VIQ or at least 1 SD below population mean.
Spelling is below the population mean and at
least 15 standard score points below VIQ.
Does not meet any exclusionary criteria related
to other neurodevelopmental disorder, brain in-
jury or disease, or psychiatric disorder, and is
not an English-language learner.
Comorbidity Issues
Does not tend to have slower language milestones during
the preschool years or oral language skills during the
school-age years that are outside the normal range. Some
of these children meet DSM-IV criteria for ADHD and
are more likely to have Hyperactivity symptoms (par-
ticularly impulsivity) than the other subtypes but also
show signs of Inattention.
Note well: Some children meet the inclusionary criteria
for more than one specific learning disability and may
have combinations of dyslexia, disgraphia, and/or lan-
guage learning disability.
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453
CHAPTER 12
Mental Retardation
ROBERT M. HODAPP and ELISABETH M. DYKENS
DIAGNOSIS AND CLASSIFICATION 455
Diagnosis 455
Classification: Three Approaches 456
BEHAVIORAL PHENOTYPES: EXAMPLES,
CONCEPTUAL ISSUES, AND
DEVELOPMENTAL IMPLICATIONS 457
Down, Prader-Willi, and Williams Syndromes 458
Case Example of a Young Adult Woman with Down
Syndrome 458
Case Example of a Boy with Prader-Willi Syndrome 459
Case Example of a Teenage Girl with
Williams Syndrome 461
Concepts and Issues 461
DEVELOPMENTAL IMPLICATIONS 463
Sequences 463
Cross-Domain Relations 464
Cross-Domain Relations over Age 464
Summary 466
CONTEXTUALIST VIEWS OF
DEVELOPMENT: INTERACTIONS,
TRANSACTIONS, ECOLOGIES 466
Issues Specific to Mental Retardation 467
Parent-Child Interactions 469
Perceptions 471
Parent and Family Reactions 472
Schools, Neighborhoods, and Larger Ecologies 474
Summary 475
RESEARCH ISSUES 477
The Nature of Research Groups 477
Control-Contrast Groups to Examine Childrens Own
Behavioral Functioning 478
Comparisons in Studies of Families and Ecologies 481
Direction of Effects, Mediators-Moderators, and
Associated Variables 482
Summary 482
MAKING THE LEAP FROM KNOWLEDGE
TO PRACTICE 483
A Changing Society and a Changing Population 483
Generic and Specialized Issues 484
Noncategorical Philosophies 484
Cross-Level and Cross-Disciplinary Matters 484
Some Examples of Interventions 485
CONCLUSION 488
Perspectives and Approaches of Developmental
Psychopathology 488
The Changing Sense of Development 489
Similar but Different Concerns and Complications 489
Simultaneous Concern with Basic and
Applied Information 490
REFERENCES 490
For developmental psychologists, mental retardation is
a topic that is both old and new. On one hand, develop-
mental research in mental retardation predates studies
of most other applied topics. In the 1940s, Inhelder and
Piaget (Inhelder, 1943/1968; Piaget & Inhelder, 1947)
examined children with mental retardation to determine
whether Piagetian sequences were traversed in univer-
sal, invariant order. At about the same time, Werner
(1938, 1941) examined children with mental retarda-
tion to help develop his orthogenetic principle
(development proceeds from a state of relative global-
ity . . . to a state of differentiation, articulation, and
hierarchic integration; 1957, p. 126). Even earlier,
during the 1920s and 1930s, Vygotskys defectology
studies used children with mental retardation to explore
the developmental interplay between children and their
surrounding cultural environments (Rieber & Carton,
1993; van der Veer & Valsiner, 1991).
Granted, mental retardation would probably not be
considered central to the work of Piaget, Werner, or
Vygotsky. Each theorist tackled many developmental
phenomena; their studies of children with mental re-
tardation generally occurred at the beginning of each
theorists career and were not sustained over time
(Hodapp, 1998). Still, to varying extents, Piaget,
Werner, and Vygotsky all realized that children with
mental retardation could be used to apply, extend, and
test out their theories.
454 Mental Retardation
Yet, despite these early explorations, in other ways
mental retardation is a new topic for developmental psy-
chology. Bluntly stated, many developmentally oriented
researchers and practitioners feel that children with
mental retardation are somehow less theoretically im-
portant or interesting, and that these children simply re-
quire instruction that presents less material at a slower
pace. Partly reflecting this view, few training programs
in developmental psychology or applied developmental
psychology offer specializations in mental retardation
or developmental disabilities. In journals such as Child
Development and Developmental Psychologyeven in
the Journal of Applied Developmental Psychology and
Applied Developmental Scienceonly a few articles fea-
ture children with mental retardation and their families.
Mental retardation remains less prominent in both child
development and applied child development.
To be fair, mental retardations second-class status is
not limited to developmental psychology. Mental retar-
dation is also a part ofbut not prominent inmany
other disciplines. Mental retardation is the first disorder
addressed in the fourth edition of the Diagnostic and
Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (American Psy-
chiatric Association, 1994, pp. 3946), but holds only a
minor place in psychiatry, child psychiatry, or clinical
psychology (King, State, Shah, Davanzo, & Dykens,
1997; Routh, 2003). Similarly, special education exists
but is not prominent in education. One could make
similar observations about nursing, social work, genet-
ics and clinical genetics, pediatrics, speech-language
pathology, and a host of other disciplines. In each field,
mental retardation exists as a subfield, but its place is
not prominent.
And yet, this situation may be changing, for two rea-
sons. First, increasing numbers of studies have moved
from examining children with mental retardation to
examining children with different types of mental re-
tardation (Dykens & Hodapp, 2001). In contrast to
prior years, we now have many more studies of children
with Down syndrome, fragile X syndrome, Williams
syndrome, Prader-Willi syndrome, and other of the
1,000+ genetic mental retardation disorders (Hodapp
& Dykens, 2004).
These studies, in turn, are producing many new find-
ings about these disorders. For example, certain genetic
syndromes show particular, etiology-related cognitive
or linguistic strengths or weaknesses. Others show
etiology-related trajectories (or rates) of development in
different areas, and still others have much higher rates
of particular maladaptive behaviors or co-occurring
psychiatric conditions. Although we later detail these
intriguing findings, suffice it to note here that different
genetic mental retardation disorders show different,
etiology-related behaviors.
Developmentally oriented researchers are among
those intrigued by such findings. If, for example, indi-
viduals with a specific genetic disorder show particular
strengths in one area (e.g., language) and weaknesses in
another area (e.g., visual-spatial skills), what does this
say about the modularity of intelligence? How do
such profiles develop over time? Which environmental
factors enter in, which neurological factors, when, in
what ways, to what effect(s)? Just as, in prior decades,
Piaget, Werner, and Vygotsky were intrigued by devel-
opment in children with mental retardation, so are mod-
ern-day developmentalists interested in children with
different types of mental retardation. Modern-day de-
velopmentalists are reaching out to such children to test,
extend, and apply what we think we know about how de-
velopment operates.
In addition to their importance to our theoretical un-
derstandings of human development, etiology-related be-
haviors also have implications for interventions. For this
reason, parents, special and general educators, speech-
language pathologists, and clinical psychologists and psy-
chiatrists have all become increasingly excited about
how etiology-related behavioral profiles might be used
for intervention efforts. Consider the idea that children
with certain genetic syndromes show etiology-related
strengths in one area and weaknesses in another. If so, it
may be possible to play to the childs strengths in terms
of how or what information is presented. Although the
application of research into practice has, until now, rarely
been attempted, recent advances provide hope for more
targeted, etiology-oriented types of special education
services (Hodapp & Fidler, 1999).
A second reason for interest in mental retardation
concerns the meaning of development to developmen-
tally oriented professionals. Like the larger field of child
development, developmentally oriented researchers in
mental retardation increasingly examine the environ-
ments in which children with mental retardation de-
velop. As they examine these environments, researchers
and practitioners realize that environments can have
both good and bad effects on children with mental retar-
dation. Indeed, from an earlier perspective on parental
and familial pathology, the field has recently noted that
a range of child, parent, and family characteristics may
Diagnosis and Classification 455
help or hinder the functioning of both the child with
mental retardation and his or her family.
In a related way, developmentally oriented profes-
sionals are realizing just how little we currently know
about the larger ecology of children with mental retarda-
tion. As in any childs development, the child with men-
tal retardation interacts with many, outside-of-family
systems, including the childs school, peers, and other
environments. In mental retardation, these outside sys-
tems have changed drastically over the past few decades;
indeed, one could almost argue that parents and families
rearing children with mental retardation in 2005 face an
entirely different social service worldwith entirely
different advantages and challengesthan did parents
and families in 1980 or 1970 (Glidden, 2002).
From the perspective of both the child and the ecol-
ogy, then, mental retardation constitutes an important
area of applied developmental psychology. But as a topic
that may be less known to many readers, we begin this
chapter by briefly defining mental retardation, as well
as describing issues of classification within the popula-
tion itself. We then discuss findings arising from an ap-
proach that classifies children with mental retardation
by genetic etiology. From such child-centered discus-
sions, we proceed to developmental issues relating to
parents, families, and larger ecologies. After discussing
several research issues, we end this chapter with exam-
ples of preliminary interventions and remaining issues
that such interventions entail.
DIAGNOSIS AND CLASSIFICATION
Before summarizing new findings, it is first necessary
to define the term mental retardation and to present
different ways of classifying these children. As noted in
the discussion that follows, controversies arise in both
the definition and classification of mental retardation.
Such definitional and classificatory controversies are
mainly examined as background for later, more ex-
panded discussions of developmental findings and their
applications.
Diagnosis
From the early 1960s on, definitions of mental retarda-
tion have included three basic factors. First, the person
(child or adult) must display impaired intellectual func-
tioning. Second, that person must show concomitant im-
pairments in adaptive behavior. Third, such intellectual
and adaptive impairments should begin during the child-
hood years; thus, cognitive-adaptive impairments involv-
ing adult-onset diseases or accidents are not considered to
involve mental retardation. These three basic principles
are generally referred to as the three-factor definition of
mental retardation.
Unfortunately, the specifics of all except the final
criterion have been the subject of long-standing, often
heated debate. Consider the first criterion, impaired in-
tellectual functioning. In definitions from the 1960s
(Heber, 1961), the IQ cutoff was placed at 85; that is, all
persons with IQs below 85 were considered to have men-
tal retardation. More recently, most definitional manu-
als have placed the IQ cutoff 2 standard deviations
below the mean of 100 (i.e., IQ 70 or below). Even now,
however, some influential systems (e.g., American Asso-
ciation on Mental Retardation [AAMR], 1992) have
noted that the IQ cutoff should be placed at IQ 70 or 75
and below, which may have the unintended effect of
vastly increasing the number of persons eligible for the
diagnosis of mental retardation (e.g., MacMillan, Gre-
sham, & Siperstein, 1993). In addition, all other contro-
versies with intelligence tests apply, including whether
IQ tests really measure intelligence and whether one can
achieve a culturally fair IQ test.
Similarly, controversy also surrounds the second cri-
teria. The idea is simple: Children or adults should be
considered to have mental retardation only when, in ad-
dition to cognitive-intellectual deficits, these individu-
als also show impairments in their everyday, adaptive
functioning. Directly following from the first tests of
adaptive behavior during the 1950s (Doll, 1953), adap-
tive impairments have constituted an explicit diagnostic
criterion in diagnostic-classificatory manuals from the
early 1970s on (e.g., Grossman, 1973).
Again, the devil is in the details. What are the cor-
rect dimensions or factors of adaptive behavior? No one
really knows. In one major test of adaptive behavior, the
Vineland Adaptive Behavior Scales, Sparrow, Balla, and
Cicchetti (1984) identify three domains: communication,
daily living skills, and socialization. In the 1992 version
of the AAMRs (1992) manual, 10 different domains are
proposed: communication, self-care, home living, social
skills, community use, self-direction, health and safety,
functional academics, leisure, and work. In that same or-
ganizations more recent manual, three domains are pro-
posed (conceptual, social, and practical adaptive skills;
AAMR, 2002).
456 Mental Retardation
Factor analytic studies provide some help, but these
findings are also not definitive. In general, studies re-
veal from two to seven factors of adaptive behavior, with
a single primary factor accounting for most of the vari-
ance (Harrison, 1987; McGrew & Bruininks, 1989).
Most researchers and practitioners therefore agree that
mental retardation involves impaired intellectual and
adaptive functioning. But problems arise when one spec-
ifies the nature of the construct, how it is to be mea-
sured, and what cutoff scores will bring about the
diagnosis of mental retardation.
For our purposes, mental retardation should be diag-
nosed when a child or adult has an IQ below 70 and has
impairments in adaptive behavior (as tested by the
Vineland or other standardized instrument), and when
onset occurs during the childhood years. Interested
readers should refer to more detailed explanations and
discussions (e.g., Switzky & Greenspan, 2003).
Classification: Three Approaches
Most people would agree that children and adults with
mental retardation differ one from another. As before,
the problem is exactly which classifications are most
meaningful for research, intervention, or policy. In gen-
eral, three approaches characterize attempts to classify
individuals with mental retardation.
Degree-of-Impairment Approach
Over the years, most researchers and clinicians have
employed a system that classifies persons with mental
retardation by their degree of intellectual impairment.
This classification system designates persons with men-
tal retardation as mildly, moderately, severely, or pro-
foundly retarded.
Although Table 12.1 describes each level, a few
points should be made. First, the degree-of-impairment
system has predominated in both research and practice
over many years. Granted, names have changed over the
years, and different fields use slightly different terms.
Still, most professionals are familiar with categorizing
mental retardation by the childs degree of impairment.
Second, although adaptive behavior is a part of men-
tal retardations three-factor definition, most profes-
sionals classify individuals by levels of intellectual, not
adaptive, impairment. As noted in Table 12.1, individu-
als at identical IQ levels vary in their adaptive function-
ing. This variability in adaptive behavior is particularly
common for individuals with mild (IQ 55 to 69) and
moderate (IQ 40 to 54) mental retardation; individuals
with severe or profound mental retardation usually show
closer ties of adaptive and intellectual impairments.
Third, the degree-of-impairment system says nothing
about the causes of the persons mental retardation. In-
dividuals with moderate mental retardation might have
Down syndrome, Williams syndrome, another genetic
disorder, fetal alcohol syndrome (FAS), anoxia at birth,
or no clear cause for their mental retardation. The rele-
vant issue pertains to the persons degree of intellectual
TABLE 12.1 Degree-of-Impairment Classification System
Mild mental retardation (IQ 5570): This group constitutes as
many as 90% of all persons with mental retardation (American
Psychiatric Association, 1994). These individuals appear similar to
typical individuals, and often blend into the nonretarded population
in the years before and after formal schooling. As adults, some of
these individuals hold jobs, marry, and raise families and are
indistinguishable from nonretarded people. More persons with mild
mental retardation come from minority and low socioeconomic
(SES) backgrounds than would be expected from their numbers in
the general population (Hodapp, 1994; Stromme & Magnus, 2000).
Moderate mental retardation (IQ 4054): The second most
prevalent group are those individuals who are more impaired
intellectually and adaptively. More of these individuals are
diagnosed as having mental retardation during the preschool years.
Many individuals with moderate mental retardation show one or
more clear organic causes for their mental retardation (e.g., Down
syndrome, fragile X syndrome). Although some persons with
moderate mental retardation require few supportive services, most
continue to require some help throughout life. In one study, 20% of
persons with IQs from 40 to 49 lived independently, 60% were
considered dependent , and 20% were totally dependent on others
(Ross, Begab, Dondis, Giampiccolo, & Meyers, 1985). In a similar
way, some of these individuals hold jobs in the outside workforce
as unskilled laborers, and others work in supervised workshop
programs.
Severe mental retardation (IQ 2539): This category refers to
persons with more severe impairments. The majority of these
individuals suffer from one or more organic causes of mental
retardation. Many persons with severe mental retardation show
concurrent physical or ambulatory problems; others have
respiratory, heart , or other co-occurring conditions. Most persons
with severe mental retardation require some special assistance
throughout their lives. Many live in supervised group homes or
small regional facilities, and most work in either workshop or pre-
workshop settings.
Profound mental retardation (IQ below 25 or 20): In this group are
persons with the most severe levels of intellectual and adaptive
impairments. These persons generally learn only the rudiments of
communicative skills, and intensive training is required to teach
basic eating, grooming, toileting, and dressing behaviors. Persons
with profound mental retardation require lifelong care and
assistance. Most show organic causes for their mental retardation,
and many have severe co-occurring conditions that sometimes lead
to death during childhood or early adulthood. Some persons with
profound mental retardation can perform preworkshop tasks, and
most live in supervised group homes or small, specialized facilities.
Behavioral Phenotypes: Examples, Conceptual Issues, and Developmental Implications 457
impairment, not any causes or etiologies of the mental
retardation per se.
Finally, controversy exists in that the 1992 edition
of the AAMRs diagnostic and classificatory manual
proposes to do away with this degree-of-impairment
classificatory system. The AAMR asserts that the
degree-of-impairment system does not give enough
weight to the interplay between the individual and the
environmental supports needed by that individual.
Therefore, in that 1992 version (and again in the 2002
version), the AAMR instead categorizes individuals by
the amount and length of the supportive services that
they need. Instead of the mild-moderate-severe-profound
distinction, the AAMR 1992 manual classifies individu-
als by their need for intermittent, limited, extensive, or
pervasive environmental supports. Because these support
levels somewhat relate (albeit imperfectly) to the per-
sons degree of impairment, we ignore this modification,
as do almost all researchers; the system appears in fewer
than 2% of recently published behavioral research arti-
cles in the main mental retardation journals (Polloway,
Smith, Chamberlain, Denning, & Smith, 1999).
Two-Group Approach
A second approach categorizes by the cause of mental
retardation. An early form of this process is called the
two-group approach to mental retardation. Formal-
ized by Edward Zigler (1967, 1969) in the late 1960s,
variants of this approach have existed from the early
twentieth century (Burack, 1990). By the mid-1960s, re-
searchers had long discussed two groups of persons with
mental retardation.
Proponents of the two-group approach hold that the
first group consists of persons who show no identifiable
cause for their mental retardation. Such individuals are
generally more mildly impaired and tend to blend in
with other, nonretarded persons. Causes probably range
from polygenetic inheritance to environmental depriva-
tion (or overstimulation); different persons may have
different polygenic or environmental causes, or there
may be an interplay between the two (Hodapp, 1994).
This type of mental retardation has been referred to as
familial, cultural-familial, or sociocultural-familial;
nonorganic, nonspecific, or undifferentiated; and mental
retardation due to environmental deprivation. Even this
listing highlights the discrepant beliefs about the causes
of mental retardation in these individuals.
In contrast to those with cultural-familial mental
retardation, other individuals show one or more organic
causes for their mental retardation. Such causes include
hundreds of separate organic insults. These insults can
occur prenatally, perinatally, or postnatally. Prenatal
causes include all of the 1,000+ genetic mental retarda-
tion disorders, FAS, fetal alcohol exposure (FAE), and
rubella, as well as all accidents in utero. Perinatal
causes include prematurity, anoxia at birth, and other
birth-related complications. Postnatal causes range from
sicknesses (meningitis) to head trauma. In addition,
those with organic mental retardation are more likely to
show greater degrees of intellectual impairments; in
most surveys, as IQ levels decrease, increasingly higher
percentages of persons show an identifiable organic
cause (Stromme & Hagberg, 2000).
Etiological Approach
In many ways, classifying by specific etiology of
the childs mental retardation updates the earlier two-
group approach. Instead of examining a single organic
group, one now begins to examine behavioral de-
velopment in many different groups (Burack, Hodapp,
& Zigler, 1988).
This more detailed etiological approach also reflects
recent biomedical advances. In contrast to earlier
years, when little was known about mental retarda-
tions causes, more than 1,000 different genetic anom-
alies have now been linked to mental retardation
(King, Hodapp, & Dykens, 2005). For most such disor-
ders, we can go back and forth between the beginning
point, the genetic anomaly itself, and the endpoint, the
behavior that seems predisposed by having that spe-
cific genetic anomaly (as well as the many different
medical and physical sequelae). Over the past few
decades, we have come to realize that persons with dif-
ferent genetic disorders are prone to different behav-
ioral characteristics. We now turn to genetic disorders
effects on behavior.
BEHAVIORAL PHENOTYPES: EXAMPLES,
CONCEPTUAL ISSUES, AND
DEVELOPMENTAL IMPLICATIONS
To provide a flavor of how genetic disorders affect
behaviorthe subfield of behavioral phenotypes
we first briefly describe Down syndrome, Prader-Willi
syndrome, and Williams syndrome. From there we
step back a bit, explaining what we mean by the term
458 Mental Retardation
behavioral phenotypes and highlighting that defini-
tions most important features.
Down, Prader-Willi, and Williams Syndromes
Although one could choose as examples any of the
1,000+ genetic mental retardation syndromes, we here
pick three: Down syndrome, Prader-Willi syndrome, and
Williams syndrome. These three disorders are reason-
ably well-known and feature recent studies that have pro-
duced some interesting behavioral findings.
Down Syndrome
Caused in most cases by the occurrence of three (in-
stead of two) chromosome 21s, Down syndrome is the
best-known and the most prevalent genetic (i.e., chro-
mosomal) abnormality, occurring once in every 800 to
1,000 live births. First described in 1866 by J. Langdon
Down (see Dunn, 1991), Down syndrome has for many
years been the focus of genetic and behavioral research.
Children with Down syndrome usually have charac-
teristic physical features, including an epicanthic fold
above the eyes ( leading to the syndromes original label,
mongolism), a protruding tongue, short stature,
and, during infancy, hypotonia (weak muscle tone).
Down syndrome often occurs together with such med-
ical conditions as heart defects, leukemia, and gut atre-
sia (Leshin, 2002). Although in the past, persons with
Down syndrome were often institutionalized and had a
short life span, most individuals now live at home and
medical treatments for all ages have increased the life
span (Cohen, 2002). Down syndrome may be detected
during pregnancy through chorionic villus sampling or
amniocentesis; such procedures are usually recom-
mended in women above age 35, who bear a substan-
tially higher risk (Pueschel, 1990).
Three behavioral characteristics appear in most indi-
viduals with Down syndrome. The first involves a
specific set of cognitive-linguistic strengths and weak-
nesses. In various studies, persons with Down syndrome
appear particularly impaired in language. Such impair-
ments, which are more pronounced than overall levels of
mental age, occur in linguistic grammar (Chapman &
Hesketh, 2000), in expressive (as opposed to receptive)
language (Miller, 1999), and in articulation (Kumin,
1994). Conversely, persons with Down syndrome often
show relatively higher performance on tasks of visual
short-term memory, and the visual-over-auditory pat-
tern of short-term memory seems to become more pro-
nounced beginning in the late teen years (Hodapp &
Ricci, 2002).
A second behavioral issue involves the rate of devel-
opment, with children with Down syndrome developing
at slower rates as they get older. Most studies show that
children with Down syndrome have their highest IQ
scores in the earlier years, with gradually decreasing IQ
as time goes on. These children continue developing, but
at slower and slower rates as they get older (Hodapp,
Evans, & Gray, 1999). Such slowings of development
may relate to age-related changes or to difficulties these
children have in achieving certain cognitive tasks (e.g.,
language; Hodapp & Zigler, 1995).
A third, possibly related change concerns Alzheimers
disease. It is now known that neuropathological signs of
Alzheimers disease appear to be universal in individuals
with Down syndrome by age 35 (Wisniewski, Wis-
niewski, & Wen, 1985). Geneticists continue to explore
the connection of Down syndrome with Alzheimers and
to learn more about pathological segments of chromo-
some 21 involved in overlapping conditions.
Case Example of a Young Adult Woman with
Down Syndrome
Julie, a 21-year-old with Down syndrome, sits in the
clinic with her mother. Its just us, offers mother,
and we have our routines, but I am worried that she
doesnt get out enough, like she used to in school. Julie
did well in school, her reading and math skills were be-
tween the fourth- and sixth-grade levels, and Julie also
had very well-developed daily living skills, especially in
performing personal grooming and household chores.
Julie chimes in, Overland High School, I graduate,
and with increased animation, starts to list the names of
her former classmates. Her mother smiles and nods and
adds that Julie was well-liked by her high school friends
and was greeted warmly by students and teachers alike.
Julie was always quick with a smile or an enthusiastic
high-five, and much to her delight, received a standing
ovation from her classmates at graduation!
But since then, things had not gone as well. The voca-
tional training program that Julie was slated to attend
after graduation had a long waiting list, and in the in-
terim, Julie attended a social program three mornings a
week. Her mother was concerned that this was not
enough for Julie, that the program did not encourage Julie
to practice or learn new academic skills, nor to interact
with new friends. With her mother working full time,
Behavioral Phenotypes: Examples, Conceptual Issues, and Developmental Implications 459
most of Julies days were spent watching TV alone at
home and helping to take care of a neighbors cat. Julie
has lost some of her sparkle, complained her mother,
and she was also becoming a bit more into herself and
passive, not to mention overweight.
Ultimately, the clinic staff, Julie, and her mother
agreed on a plan of action. The social worker would
check on the status of the vocational program, and
should the wait be excessive, identify alternative train-
ing programs that met for at least 5 hours a day. The
idea of an advocate was raised, although Julies mother
declined the need for one. Julie offered that she wanted
to take care of more cats, and she and her mother agreed
to explore the possibility of volunteering at a local ani-
mal shelter. Julie and her mother agreed to try to take
walks after dinner, and Julie, once an avid swimmer,
was encouraged to reenroll in the Special Olympics
swimming program.
Julies story demonstrates several concerns for per-
sons with Down syndrome and other young adults:
The difficulties families face when services are no
longer provided at school
The need for families to advocate for quality
adult services
The propensity for adults with Down syndrome to be-
come more sedentary and withdrawn
The need for innovative programs that foster lifelong
learning in adults with mental retardation (adapted
from Hodapp & Dykens, 2003)
Prader-Willi Syndrome
Prader-Willi syndrome is caused by missing genetic ma-
terial from the chromosome 15 derived from the fa-
thereither a deletion on the paternally derived 15 or
two chromosome 15s from the mother (maternal uni-
parental disomy). Most individuals with Prader-Willi
syndrome are short in stature (about 5 in adulthood)
and show extreme hyperphagia (overeating). Such hy-
perphagia (and resultant obesity) have long been consid-
ered the hallmarks of Prader-Willi syndrome, and most
cases of early death in the syndrome relate to obesity
and its related heart and circulatory problems (Butler
et al., 2002; Whittington et al., 2001).
In addition to hyperphagia, many individuals show
high levels of many different maladaptive behaviors.
Along with hyperphagia, many persons with Prader-Willi
syndrome also showtemper tantrums and other acting-out
behaviors. Dykens, Leckman, and Cassidy (1996) also
showed the very high presence of obsessions and compul-
sions in this group. In both children and adults with
Prader-Willi syndrome, non-food-related obsessions and
compulsions occurred at similar levels among nonre-
tarded children and adults who had been clinically diag-
nosed with obsessive-compulsive disorder.
Intellectually, most children with Prader-Willi syn-
drome show relative weaknesses on tasks involving con-
secutive, step-by-step order in problem solving, or
sequential processing. In contrast, these children per-
form well on tasks requiring integration and synthesis of
stimuli as a unified whole, or simultaneous processing
(Dykens, Hodapp, Walsh, & Nash, 1992). Dykens (2002)
has recently found that many individuals with Prader-
Willi syndrome demonstrate particularly high-level
abilities in jigsaw puzzles. Such high levels in jigsaw
puzzles are, on average, even above those shown by typ-
ical children of comparable chronological ages. Why
such spared areas of functioning occur remains un-
known, nor are we currently clear about whether these
childrens skills in jigsaw puzzles are specific to this
single task or instead reflect a more general visual-
spatial ability.
Case Example of a Boy withPrader-Willi Syndrome
We have reached the point where we need to lock.
Jake, age 11 years, was busy at the table, working at a
puzzle, while his mother brought the clinic team up to
date on Jakes diet. Jake was diagnosed with Prader-
Willi syndrome shortly after birth and has since demon-
strated the classic features of the syndrome: hypotonia
in infancy, delayed milestones, and a marked interest in
eating and food that began at about age 5. From pre-
school on, Jake had a stubborn streak that evolved into
a more pervasive insistence that certain things be just
so, such as his collection of airplane books and book
bag. Jake was also now having troubles at school because
he insisted on erasing and reworking his letters to the
point where he wore holes through the paper and
couldnt move on to the next activity.
Further, adds his mother, his food seeking is much
worse. Although the clinic staff had previously dis-
cussed with the family the possibility of locking the
cabinets and refrigerator, the family had not yet felt the
need to do so; they could manage Jakes food seeking
with a watchful eye from parents and older sister. Now,
460 Mental Retardation
though, Jakes weight was creeping up, as were instances
of food snitching at home and school.
Now that we are locking, notes Jakes mother, he
asks about food less and less, and it relieves his older
sister, who is 15, from being the food police. If he
knows that he cant get into it, he is more apt to get in-
volved with other things, like his puzzles. Indeed, Jake,
who has just completed a 50-piece puzzle with remark-
able speed, looks up with a grin. This one was easy,
he boasts. I thought you said you had hard puzzles!
As suggested by this brief case, many youngsters
with Prader-Willi syndrome show a host of behavioral
concerns, especially hyperphagia and compulsions. For
children like Jake, the management of diet and behavior
needs to be carefully coordinated between school and
home, and later between work and home (or group
home). As families struggle to maintain a low-calorie
diet, managing their offsprings compulsive behaviors
and tantrums are often more stressful for them. As Jake
demonstrates, however, many persons with Prader-Willi
syndrome have relatively well-developed expressive vo-
cabulary and visual-spatial strengths, especially in solv-
ing jigsaw puzzles. In Jakes case, the school teacher and
staff used special puzzle time at school as an incen-
tive for letting go of his rewriting and erasing and to
make easier transitions.
Williams Syndrome
Occurring in about 1 per 20,000 births, Williams syn-
drome is caused by a microdeletion on one of the chro-
mosome 7s that includes the gene for elastin, a protein
that provides strength and elasticity to tissues of the
heart, skin, blood vessels, and lungs (Ewart et al., 1993).
Children with this syndrome generally show a character-
istic, elfin-like facial appearance, along with heart
and other health problems (Dykens, Hodapp, & Finu-
cane, 2000). As many as 95% of these children suffer
from hyperacusis, or a hypersensitivity to sound.
Williams syndrome is best known for its cognitive-
linguistic profile. Specifically, children with Williams
syndrome appear strikingly good at many linguistic
tasks. Indeed, earlier studies even hinted that these chil-
dren might be able to perform linguistically at or nearly
at levels shown by nonretarded age-mates (Bellugi,
Marks, Bihrle, & Sabo, 1988). Recent studies dispute
this finding, showing that only about 5% of children
with Williams syndrome seem spared in language abili-
ties (Bishop, 1999; Mervis, Morris, Bertrand, & Robin-
son, 1999). Still, language skills are relatively strong
(compared to overall mental age) in children with
Williams syndrome.
In contrast, many children with Williams syndrome
perform poorly on visual-spatial measures (Udwin &
Yule, 1991; Udwin, Yule, & Martin, 1987), including
such tasks as putting together a jigsaw puzzle and draw-
ing (Bellugi, Wang, & Jernigan, 1994; Dykens, Rosner,
& Ly, 2001). These children seem to have difficulties in
constructive visuo-spatial skills: visuospatial activi-
ties requiring one to mentally put together an objects
various pieces or parts. In addition, the discrepancies
between the higher-level language skills and the lower-
level language abilities appear to become increasingly
pronounced as children get older (Jarrold, Baddeley,
Hewes, & Phillips, 2001).
In contrast to work on cognitive-linguistic profiles,
studies have yet to fully examine the personality or psy-
chiatric features of people with Williams syndrome.
Early descriptions hinted at a classic Williams syn-
drome personality, described as pleasant, unusually
friendly, affectionate, loquacious, engaging, and inter-
personally sensitive and charming (e.g., Dilts, Morris,
& Leonard, 1990). Such qualities may change over the
course of development, with adults being more with-
drawn and less overly friendly than children (Gosch &
Pankau, 1997).
Recent findings expand these observations. Using
the Reiss Personality Profiles (Reiss & Havercamp,
1998), Dykens and Rosner (1999) found that, relative to
controls, adolescents and adults with Williams syn-
drome are more likely to initiate interactions with oth-
ers (87% of sample), to enjoy social activities (83%), to
be kind-spirited (100%) and caring (94%), and to em-
pathize with others positive feelings (75%) or when
others are in pain (87%). At the same time, however,
these subjects had difficulties making or keeping
friends and were often dangerously indiscriminate in
their relating to others.
Recently, attention has also begun to focus on anxi-
eties and fears in this population. Generalized anxiety,
worry, and perseverative thinking are commonly seen in
Williams syndrome (e.g., Einfeld, Tonge, & Florio,
1997), and people with the syndrome appear to show un-
usually high levels of fears and phobias. Relative to suit-
ably matched controls, fears in persons with Williams
syndrome are more frequent, wide-ranging, and severe
and are also associated with impaired social-adaptive
adjustment. In one study, Dykens (2003) compared fears
in 120 people with Williams syndrome (ages 6 to 48
Behavioral Phenotypes: Examples, Conceptual Issues, and Developmental Implications 461
years) to those with mental retardation of mixed etiolo-
gies. Only two fears, getting a shot and going to the den-
tist, were mentioned by over 50% of the group with
mixed causes of mental retardation. In contrast, 50 dif-
ferent fears were mentioned by over 60% of subjects
with Williams syndrome. Such fears ran the gamut.
Some involved interpersonal issues such as being teased,
getting punished, or getting into arguments with others;
others involved such physical issues as injections, being
in a fire or getting burned, or getting stung by a bee; still
others related to these childrens hyperacusis or clumsi-
ness ( loud noises/sirens, falling from high places, thun-
derstorms). Though not every person with Williams
syndrome shows one or all of these fears, the vast major-
ity seem overly fearful compared to most others with in-
tellectual disabilities.
Case Example of a Teenage Girl with
Williams Syndrome
Susie, a highly energetic 14-year-old with Williams syn-
drome, declared with great enthusiasm, Why, everyone
is my friend! Indeed, so it seemed to her parents, who
were both tickled and worried by their daughters quest
to interact with everyone they met. On the one hand,
they loved her sociable nature; on the other, they wor-
ried about her poor social judgment and vulnerability as
she entered adolescence.
Diagnosed with Williams syndrome at 10 months of
age, Susie had come through corrective heart surgery
and an infancy marked by fussiness and feeding diffi-
culties. At around age 3, however, Susie came around,
and her language and interest in the world took off. She
stared intently at the faces of teachers and therapists, an
endearing quality that adults loved. After a period of
language delay, she quickly caught up, and on formal
testing as a first-grader, Susies vocabulary skills ex-
ceeded her overall cognitive abilities. Although her edu-
cational testing also showed that Susie had poorly
developed visual-spatial abilities, this had always been
less a source of worry for her parents than her increasing
anxiety and social disinhibition.
Increasingly, Susie frets and worries about things
what will happen next, or what if the car breaks down or
her piano teacher has a heart attack. Her father affec-
tionately calls her his worrywart. Even so, her anxiety
can get out of hand at times, but never to the point that it
stops her from getting in the car or taking her piano les-
son. Along with her growing anxiety, Susie has a grow-
ing interest in music. She is persistent at the keyboard,
yet not necessarily gifted in the way that some per-
sons with Williams syndrome seem to be. She simply
loves music and often hums tunes to herself as she
plunks at the piano, what she herself calls my creative
me in motion. Her father observes that this activity
seems to calm her down and helps her to settle for the
night. Recently, Susie has asked to try another instru-
ment so that she can play in the school band, or to join
the glee club, so that she can sing with others.
Susie thus demonstrates many of the key behavioral
features of Williams syndrome:
Well-developed expressive language
A strong social orientation coupled with poor social
judgment and disinhibition
A worried, fretful stance
An interest in music that may or may not reflect re-
markable talent but that is emotionally compelling
and gratifying
Concepts and Issues
Although these descriptions provide a quick sense of
etiology-related behavioral characteristics in three
syndromes, we have left until now several conceptual
issues concerning the nature and study of behavioral
phenotypes.
The first issue is one of basic definition. While inter-
est in behavioral phenotypes has increased enormously
over the past 2 decades, the very term itself has been de-
bated widely. What is a behavioral phenotype? To us, a
behavioral phenotype involves the heightened probabil-
ity or likelihood that people with a given syndrome will
exhibit certain behavioral and developmental sequelae
relative to those without the syndrome (Dykens, 1995,
p. 523). In contrast to other definitions, such a defini-
tion focuses on probabilities, the idea that genetic disor-
ders predispose those who have them to a greater chance
or likelihood of showing a particular behavior or set of
behaviors. Compared to groups with mental retardation
in general (arising from any number of other causes),
groups with a particular genetic cause will show certain
behaviors to a greater extent or in a higher percentage of
individuals. Such behaviors might be a particular pat-
tern of cognitive-linguistic strengths and weaknesses, or
a particular age at which development slows, or a partic-
ular type of maladaptive behavior.
462 Mental Retardation
This more probabilistic definition highlights three
basic facts, which we discuss next.
Many, but Not All, Individuals Show the
Syndromes Characteristic Behaviors
A more probabilistic definition acknowledges the large
amount of variance within specific etiologies. Rarely
are etiology-related behaviors found in every person
with a particular syndrome. Consider the case of Down
syndrome. Even compared to their overall mental
age, children and adults with Down syndrome generally
show deficits in linguistic grammar (Fowler, 1990)
and often show receptive language abilities in advance
of expressive abilities (Miller, 1999). In addition,
approximately 95% of mothers of children with Down
syndrome report that others have difficulty understand-
ing their childs articulation of words and phrases
(Kumin, 1994).
Yet, despite such commonly observed deficits, not
every person with Down syndrome shows particular
difficulties with grammar, articulation, or expressive
language. Rondal (1995) reported on the case of
Franoise, a 32-year-old woman whose IQ is 64. Al-
though Franoise has trisomy 21, she nevertheless ut-
ters long and complex sentences. Rondal reports her
saying (translated), And that does not surprise me be-
cause dogs are always too warm when they go out-
side (Et a mtonne pas parce que les chiens ont tou-
jours trop chaud quand ils vont la port ; p. 117). Al-
though grammatical, articulatory, and expressive
language problems may be common in Down syndrome,
not every person with the syndrome shows such behav-
ioral characteristics.
Some Etiology-Related Behaviors Are Unique to a
Single Syndrome, Others Are Common to Two or
More Syndromes
A more probabilistic definitions second corollary in-
volves the Uniqueness Question (Pennington, OConnor,
& Sudhalter, 1991): To what extent is any etiology-
related behavior or pattern of behaviors unique to a sin-
gle syndrome, as opposed to being shared by a few ge-
netic disorders?
At this point, both unique and partially shared behav-
ioral phenotypes occur, although partially shared pheno-
types are probably more common (Hodapp, 1997).
Considering unique or totally specific behavioral out-
comes first, the following behaviors seem unique to a
single syndrome:
Extreme hyperphagia (Dykens, 1999) in Prader-
Willi syndrome
The cat cry (Gersh et al., 1995) in 5p- syndrome (for-
merlycalledcri-du-chator cryof the catsyndrome)
Extreme self-mutilation (L. T. Anderson & Ernst,
1994) in Lesch-Nyhan syndrome
Stereotypic hand washing or hand wringing (Van
Acker, 1991) in Rett syndrome
Body self-hugging (Finucane, Konar, Haas-Givler,
Kurtz, & Scott, 1994) and putting objects into
bodily orifices (Greenberg et al., 1996) in Smith-
Magenis syndrome
In contrast to what seems likely to remain a fairly
short list, many more instances will probably be discov-
ered in which partial specificity is at work. To give but a
few examples, a particular advantage in simultaneous
(i.e., holistic, Gestalt-like) processing compared to se-
quential (step-by-step) processing has now been found in
children with Prader-Willi syndrome (Dykens et al.,
1992) and in boys with fragile X syndrome (Dykens,
Hodapp, & Leckman, 1987; Kemper, Hagerman, &
Altshul-Stark, 1988). Similarly, compared to groups with
intellectual disabilities in general, hyperactivity is more
frequently found in children with 5p- syndrome (Dykens
& Clarke, 1997) and in boys with fragile X syndrome
(Baumgardner, Reiss, Freund, & Abrams, 1995). In both
instances, a pattern of strengths and weaknesses or a par-
ticular type of maladaptive behavior-psychopathology is
found in a few genetic disorders to much greater degrees
(or in higher percentages of individuals) than is com-
monly noted among others with mental retardation.
Finally, partially specific behavioral effects seem
more in line with many areas of genetics, child psychia-
try, and psychiatry. Across these different disciplines,
researchers are now discussing the many pathways, both
genetic and environmental, by which one comes to have
one or another psychiatric disorder. The clinical geneti-
cist John Opitz (1985, p. 9) put it well when he noted,
The causes are many, but the common developmental
pathways are few.
Etiology-Related Behaviors Occur across Many
Behavioral Domains
When considering behavioral phenotypes, most re-
searchers probably think of salient maladaptive behav-
iors. We therefore see a keen interest in hyperphagia,
obsessive-compulsive disorder, and tantrums in Prader-
Developmental Implications 463
Willi syndrome; autism or autism-like behavior in fragile
X and Rett syndromes; and extreme self-mutilation in
Lesch-Nyhan syndrome. To many professionals, the term
behavioral phenotypes connotes the different, etiology-
related maladaptive behavior-psychopathology seen in
several syndromes.
Without discounting the excitement brought about
by the study of etiology-related maladaptive behavior
and psychopathology, behavioral phenotypes also involve
many other domains of functioning. Thus, etiology-
related strengths and weaknesses occur in language, cog-
nition, and social and adaptive behaviors and within spe-
cific subdomains. Etiology-related profiles of strengths
and weaknesses also exist across these various domains
and show distinct patterns of development. One could also
examine sequences across various developmental domains
to determine whether early language, social, emotional, or
cognitive development (or developments within subareas
of each; e.g., theory of mind) show the usual or norma-
tive orderings. Rates of development are also open to
etiology-related analyses. In short, we envision the
purview of behavioral phenotypes as very large indeed,
and sample from this large purview in the next section.
DEVELOPMENTAL IMPLICATIONS
Although one could discuss many different developmen-
tal issues, we here examine sequences, cross-domain re-
lations, and how those cross-domain relations might
change with increasing chronological age.
Sequences
From Piaget on, developmentalists have been interested
in identifying universal, invariant sequences of develop-
ment. Similarly, from the 1960s on, usual or normative
developmental sequences have been linked to children
with mental retardation. In Ziglers (1967, 1969) origi-
nal developmental approach to mental retardation, he
described what came to be known as the similar se-
quence hypothesis. This hypothesis held that children
with mental retardation, like children who are typically
developing, will traverse Piagetian, early language, or
other universal developmental sequences in the same,
invariant order.
But even in Ziglers earliest formulations, the
similar-sequence prediction was also tied to the childs
type of mental retardation. In contrasting cultural-
familial from organic forms of mental retardation, Zigler
(1969) held that only children with cultural-familial
mental retardation would necessarily show sequences in
their development similar to that of nonretarded children.
In contrast, he was unclear as to whether normative de-
velopmental processes applied to children with organic
forms of mental retardation. To quote Zigler:
If the etiology of the phenotypic intelligence (as measured
by an IQ) of two groups differs, it is far from logical to as-
sert that the course of development is the same, or that even
similar contents in their behaviors are mediated by exactly
the same cognitive processes. (p. 533, emphasis added)
To date, however, the findings generally support the
similar sequence hypothesis for most children with men-
tal retardation (of either cultural-familial or organic
forms). Several reviews indicate that most children, on
most developmental tasks, do seem to progress in the
usual, invariant order (Hodapp, 1990; Weisz, Yeates, &
Zigler, 1982). Possible exceptions involve children with
severe seizure disorders, but here difficulties arise in
relation to what constitutes a valid test of these chil-
drens abilities. Children with mental retardation may
also become less systematic or differently sequential
when tasks are more socialor occur later in develop-
mentas opposed to these childrens more usual, in-
variant sequential development on earlier and less social
tasks (Hodapp, 1990).
Until recently, such findings have generally charac-
terized the similar sequence hypothesis. But over the
past few years, it has become apparent that not all devel-
opments occur in the usual, invariant order in every ge-
netic etiology. Specifically, consider the finding that
young, typically developing children usually show point-
ing before labeling in their earliest communications.
Most 10- to 12-month-olds will gesturally point to or
show an object in order to get adults to attend (what
Bates, Camaioni, & Volterra, 1975, call proto-
declaratives), achieving the appropriate verbal labels
only sometime during their 2nd year of life. But Mervis,
Robinson, Rowe, Becerra, and Klein-Tasman (2003)
have recently reported that this sequence of pointing be-
fore speaking was not found in 9 of 10 children with
Williams syndrome. On average, these 9 children with
Williams syndrome produced referential object labels
(ball) 6 months before beginning to comprehend or
produce referential pointing gestures. As we note later,
464 Mental Retardation
this finding makes sense given the relatively strong lin-
guistic skills and relatively weak visuospatial skills
shown by most children with William syndrome. Still,
such findings are interesting and have many theoretical
and practical implications.
Cross-Domain Relations
Cross-domain relations in children with mental retarda-
tion also feature a long history. In addition to his similar
sequence hypothesis, Zigler (1969) also proposed what
came to be called the similar structure hypothesis.
This hypothesis implicitly drew on developmental
theories of the 1960s that asserted that childrens devel-
opment was all of a piece, that a childs level of devel-
opment in one area (e.g., language) was roughly equal to
that same childs development in all other areas (e.g.,
cognitive, social). And again, Zigler explicitly applied
this similar structure hypothesis only to children with
cultural-familial mental retardation.
This time, the findings seem clearer. The similar
structure hypothesis holds up reasonably well for
children with cultural-familial mental retardation, al-
though even here children display performance that is
below overall mental age levels on some attentional and
information-processing tasks (Weiss, Weisz, & Brom-
field, 1986). Less clear is why such lower than expected
functioning occurs. Some researchers have postulated
that children with cultural-familial mental retardation re-
ally do have a deficit in their information-processing
abilities (Mundy & Kasari, 1990); conversely, any seem-
ing deficit may be due more to the boring, repetitive na-
ture of many information-processing tasks (Weisz, 1990).
In contrast, all would agree that children with or-
ganic mental retardation show performance on several
cognitive-linguistic tasks that falls below their overall
mental age. As noted earlier, the specifics of such
deficits vary widely. Summarizing from our earlier dis-
cussions, the following characterize the cognitive-
linguistic profiles of children with Down syndrome,
Prader-Willi syndrome, and Williams syndrome:
Down syndrome: Children with Down syndrome
show relative strengths in visual versus auditory
short-term memory (Hodapp et al., 1999; Pueschel,
Gallagher, Zartler, & Pezzullo, 1986), as well as
weaknesses in expressive language and in grammar
(Chapman & Hesketh, 2000; Miller, 1999).
Prader-Willi syndrome: In addition to showing abilities
in simultaneous, or holistic (Gestalt), processing rela-
tive to sequential, step-by-step processing (Dykens
et al., 1992), children with Prader-Willi syndrome
solve jigsaw puzzles at levels well above both mental
age-matched children with mental retardation and
chronological age-matched, typically developing chil-
dren (Dykens, 2002).
Williams syndrome: Children with Williams syn-
drome show extreme weaknesses in many visuospa-
tial tasks, even as they show relative strengths in
several areas of language (Bellugi, Mills, Jernigan,
Hickok, & Galaburda, 1999; Mervis et al., 1999).
Such findings obviously lead to many new questions.
Given that each syndrome has a different pattern of
strengths and weaknesses, how does one divide up cog-
nitive functioning? Examining only Down syndrome,
one might conclude that intelligence is divided into vi-
sual versus auditory short-term memory, or into linguis-
tic versus nonlinguistic functioning. If one were instead
to examine the other two syndromes, then simultaneous
versus sequential processing (in Prader-Willi syndrome)
or linguistic versus visuospatial functioning (Williams
syndrome) might seem the preferred way of cutting up
the intellectual pie. At this point, no one can say for cer-
tain, but findings from genetic syndromes definitely
must be included when considering the possible connec-
tions and disconnections among diverse areas of human
functioning.
A second issue concerns connections among various
domains. Particularly in earlier studies, language func-
tioning was thought to be modular in Williams syn-
drome. Modularity, in Fodors (1983) sense, refers to an
encapsulated system that develops with little or no con-
tact with other of the childs developments (see also
Gardners, 1983, multiple intelligences). But unlike
what might be predicted from a modular perspective,
Mervis et al. (1999) found strong correlations (from .47
to .64) between various measures of short-term memory
and grammatical levels. Although language is relatively
strongand visuospatial skills weakin Williams syn-
drome, the language of these children is also not totally
modular. In line with typically developing children, lan-
guage in children with Williams syndrome connects to
other areas of these childrens cognition.
Cross-Domain Relations over Age
Although etiology-related strengths and weaknesses do
not appear fully formed at birth, how such strengths and
weaknesses appear has only begun to be examined. Dur-
Developmental Implications 465
Figure 12.1 Average vocabulary and pattern construction
ages at 6 time points (average best fit lines). Source: From A
Longitudinal Assessment of Diverging Verbal and Non-
Verbal Abilities in the Williams Syndrome Phenotype, by C.
Jarrold, A. D. Baddeley, A. K. Hewes, and C. Phillips, 2001,
Cortex, 37, pp. 423431.
Mean Sample Age (Months)
M
e
n
t
a
l
A
g
e
E
q
u
i
v
a
l
e
n
t
(
M
o
n
t
h
s
)
192 204 216 228 240
48
72
96
120
144
Vocabulary
Pattern Construction
ing the past few years, several researchers have exam-
ined cognitive-linguistic profiles over time in children
with several different etiologies of mental retardation.
Most such studies have been cross-sectional, although a
few recent studies have examined evolving profiles as
the child develops.
Across several etiological groups, with increasing
chronological age the childrens strengths develop more
quickly than do their weaknesses. In Down syndrome,
the pattern of visual over auditory short-term memory
becomes more pronounced during the late teen years
(Hodapp & Ricci, 2002), and, among boys with fragile X
syndrome, the advantage of simultaneous over sequential
processing also becomes more pronounced as these chil-
dren get older (Hodapp, Dykens, Ort, Zelinsky, & Leck-
man, 1991). In the sole longitudinal study, Jarrold et al.
(2001) examined children with Williams syndrome to
determine the development in vocabulary (a relative
strength in this syndrome) versus visuospatial skills (a
relative weakness). Examining 15 children/adolescents
on six occasions over a 4-year period, Jarrold et al. found
that vocabulary levels developed much more quickly
over time than did visuospatial skills. Figure 12.1 illus-
trates developmental trajectories by plotting age-
equivalent (mental age-like) scores for both vocabulary
and visuospatial abilities, averaged over all children and
all testings. Such divergent trajectories allow already ex-
isting relative strengths to become gradually stronger
and relative weaknesses gradually weaker as these chil-
dren get older.
Although no good explanations exist as to why
strengths become stronger and weaknesses weaker over
time, one possibility involves an interplay between the
childs etiology-related propensities and subsequent ex-
periences. One measure of experience involves the
childs everyday, leisure-time activities, that is, those
behaviors that children (or their parents) choose to per-
form every day. In one study, Rosner, Hodapp, Fidler,
Sagun, and Dykens (2004) examined the everyday
leisure activities of three groups of children: those with
Williams syndrome, those with Prader-Willi syndrome,
and those with Down syndrome. Using parent reports of
leisure-time behavior from Achenbachs (1991) Child
Behavior Checklist, behaviors were grouped into those
involving music, reading, visual-motor activities, athlet-
ics, pretend play, and focused interests.
Our findings mostly reflect etiology-related strengths
and weaknesses. In line with their excellent skills in jig-
saw puzzles, a full 50% of children with Prader-Willi
syndrome played with jigsaw puzzles, whereas only 9%
and 2%, respectively, of persons with Down syndrome
and Williams syndrome engaged in this activity. Con-
versely, in line with their visuospatial weaknesses, chil-
dren with Williams syndrome did not engage in
visuospatial activities. In the overall category of visual-
motor activities, only 31% of the sample with Williams
syndrome participated in any visual-motor activities,
compared to 76% and 60% of persons with Prader-Willi
and Down syndromes, respectively. Specific behaviors
such as arts-and-crafts activities were listed in 35% of
the group with Down syndrome and in 30% of individu-
als with Prader-Willi syndrome, but in only 7% of those
with Williams syndrome. Persons with Williams syn-
drome (or their parents) seem to be avoiding activities
that these children may find difficult to perform.
Our suspicion is that genetic etiologies predispose
children to particular cognitive-linguistic profiles, but
that these profiles then become more pronounced due to
the childs ongoing experiences. For most syndromes,
the degree of difference between levels of strong ver-
sus weak areas is probably relatively small during the
early years. As children more often perform activities
in strong areas and avoid activities in weaker areas,
however, increasing discrepancies arise. A snowball
effect may thus result from the interplay of the childs
466 Mental Retardation
etiology-related propensities and the childs ongoing
transactions with the environment. Such views also
seem consonant with the late-appearing gestures (as op-
posed to verbal labels) in the early communication of
children with Williams syndrome (Mervis et al., 2003).
For now, how etiology-related profiles evolve is rela-
tively unknown, and much more work is needed.
Summary
Beginning with several tricky definitional and classifi-
catory issues, this section explored the many interesting
issues and findings relating to children with mental re-
tardation. The most provocative findings relate not to
development in children with mental retardation per
seor even to children with cultural-familial versus or-
ganic formsbut instead to children with different ge-
netic syndromes of mental retardation.
As we examine these syndromes in more fine-grained
studies, the old, familiar senses of development are giv-
ing way to more intricate, nuanced understandings.
Although the usual or normative developmental se-
quences appear for most children with mental retarda-
tion in most domains, such is not always the case. With
their relative weakness in visuospatial abilities, children
with Williams syndrome violate the usual ordering by
not engaging in communicative gestures (i.e., pointing
and showing) in their earliest communications, behav-
iors that are simple and early occurring for typically de-
veloping children.
In the same way, cross-domain relations become com-
plicated when one considers children with different
types of mental retardation. Many children, both typical
and with mental retardation, show areas of stronger and
weaker development, but here we see specific, etiology-
related profiles. As a group, children with Williams syn-
drome show relative strengths in many linguistic tasks,
while they simultaneously demonstrate relative weak-
nesses in many visual-spatial tasks. Children with Down
syndrome show linguistic (particularly grammatical and
expressive) weaknesses, as well as etiology-related
strengths in visual (as opposed to auditory) short-term
memory. In several syndromes, already existing patterns
of strengths and weaknesses then become more pro-
nounced, and environmental, genetic, or other factors all
seem implicated.
In short, children with Prader-Willi, Down,
Williams, and other genetic syndromes are telling us
much about how development operates. Partly for this
reason, the amount of behavioral research on these dis-
orders has exploded during the past few years (Hodapp
& Dykens, 2004), and a wide array of developmental
psycholinguists, cognitive developmentalists, and oth-
ers have been drawn to children with these intriguing
syndromes. Just as children who have been adopted,
are twins, have experienced maternal deprivation, or
are otherwise natural experiments all tell us much
about typical developmental processes (Rutter, Pickles,
Murray, & Eaves, 2001), so, too, do we learn from the
behavioral development of children with different ge-
netic forms of mental retardation. We are gradually
learning more specifically how atypical development
informs typical development (Cicchetti, 1984), an ap-
proach first advocated (in more primitive forms) by Pi-
aget, Werner, and Vygotsky.
CONTEXTUALIST VIEWS OF
DEVELOPMENT: INTERACTIONS,
TRANSACTIONS, ECOLOGIES
In our discussions so far, we have considered develop-
ment only in its organismic, child-related sense. But as
developmentalists have increasingly realized over the
past 40 years, development also involves childrens
larger environments and ecologies. From the late 1960s
on, a major strand in developmental psychology has
highlighted the childs ongoing interactions and trans-
actions with others. Bell (1968), Sameroff and Chan-
dler (1975), Bronfenbrenner (1979), and others may
each focus on slightly different aspects of the childs
interactions and transactions with the world, but each
highlights ways in which child-environment interac-
tions are important and worthy of study.
Such changes in the intellectual landscape have
also influenced developmentally oriented studies of
children with mental retardation. Although Ziglers
original developmental approach to mental retardation
focused mainly on child-related aspects of develop-
ment, developmentally oriented research from the
1980s on has included parents, families, siblings, and
other outside-of-the-child influences. Granted, such
studies are newer and less advanced than is similar
work in developmental or applied developmental psy-
chology. Still, mother-child interaction, families, and
ecologies definitely persist as ongoing, important areas
of developmentally oriented mental retardation re-
search (Hodapp & Zigler, 1995).
Contextualist Views of Development: Interactions, Transactions, Ecologies 467
Before discussing such work, we provide a brief theo-
retical background. In contrast to more child-centered
discussions, we here need to adapt several well-known,
contextualist developmental perspectives in light of is-
sues specific to children with mental retardation and
their families.
Issues Specific to Mental Retardation
When thinking about the interactions and transactions
with various environments over time of children with
mental retardation, we need to consider issues of social-
ization and interaction, parental reactions, history of
the mental retardation field itself, and the changing
ecology of mental retardation.
Socialization-Interaction
From the late 1960s until today, those interested in
parent-child relations have generally adopted one of two
perspectives. In the first, or socialization, perspective,
parents influence children. Parents directly instruct,
model, reward, punish, and encourage or discourage
their children at certain times and in certain ways, and
children undoubtedly are affected as a result. The most
well-known example of socialization probably involves
Baumrinds (1973, 1989) studies of the effects of parent
socialization styles on childrens later adjustment. Par-
ents can also be thought of as indirectly engineering
their childrens environments by living in certain neigh-
borhoods, choosing certain schools, making friends
with certain families, and exposing their children to
some, but not other, environments and experiences. In
each instance, the direction of causality goes from the
parent to the child.
Conversely, others have emphasized the ways chil-
dren affect parents. Best exemplified by Bells (1968,
1979) concept of interactionism, this perspective holds
that children and parents mutually affect one another.
Thus, just as parents socialize children into gradually
becoming adults, so, too, do the childs level of func-
tioning, temperament, personality, maladaptive behav-
iors, and interests all change parental behavior. Other,
more status characteristicssuch as whether the
child is a boy or a girl, or considered attractive or unat-
tractivemight also influence parental behaviors.
When dealing with children with mental retardation,
both behavioral and status characteristics differ from
those of most typically developing children. By defini-
tion, children with mental retardation develop at slower
rates, and such rates may be differentially slowed in
stronger versus weaker areas in certain syndromes.
Children with several genetic syndromes are also predis-
posed to have particular personalities and amounts and
types of maladaptive behavior and psychopathology.
Most children with Down syndrome do appear to others
as sociable and upbeat in personality (Hodapp, Ricci,
Ly, & Fidler, 2003; Wishart & Johnston, 1980); children
with Prader-Willi syndrome are prone to hyperphagia,
obsessions-compulsions, temper tantrums, and other
maladaptive behaviors (Dykens & Cassidy, 1999).
Etiology-related health problems and physical or facial
features might also influence parental behaviors.
We have recently become intrigued by these special
twists of Bells (1968) interactionism (Hodapp, 1997,
1999). Briefly, if children with particular genetic syn-
dromes are predisposed to show one or more etiology-
related behaviors, might not others be more likely to
react to these children in specific, predictable ways? If
so, then genetic disorders have indirect effects on oth-
ers: Genetic disorders predispose children to show par-
ticular behaviors (i.e., direct effects), which in turn
elicit specific behaviors and reactions from others in
their surrounding environments (indirect effects).
Parental Reactions
Unlike parents of typical children, parents of children
with mental retardation often experience strong nega-
tive reactions on the birth or diagnosis of their child
with mental retardation. Earlier studies even talked of
how parents thought of themselves as failures for having
produced children with mental retardation. At the very
least, parental perceptions of their childrens develop-
ment and needs may differ from the usual reactions and
perceptions of parents of children with mental retarda-
tion (Hodapp, 2002).
Over 40 years ago, Solnit and Stark (1961) exempli-
fied this perspective by hypothesizing that mothers ex-
perienced a mourning reaction in response to the birth
of a child with mental retardation. Following Freuds
(1917/1957) article on Mourning and Melancholia,
these psychoanalytically oriented researchers hypothe-
sized that maternal reactions to the birth of a child with
mental retardation were akin to reactions to a death or,
more generally, to any experience of loss in which a per-
son feels disappointed, hurt, or slighted. Partly in re-
sponse to the maternal mourning idea, various stage
theories were developed to conceptualize how mothers
react emotionally to these children over time. Although
468 Mental Retardation
differing in specifics, most such models predicted that
parents first feel shock or denial, then depression or
anger, and finally emotional acceptance. Although such
stage theories have been criticized (Blacher, 1984), they
do highlight ways in which the emotions and percep-
tions of parents of children with mental retardation may
differ from the emotions and perceptions of parents of
typically developing children.
History of the Mental Retardation Field
Apart from Bell, Sameroff, and Bronfenbrenner, mental
retardations small field of behavioral researchers has
itself long been interested in the environments of chil-
dren with mental retardation. Blacher and Baker (2002)
have recently compiled 100 years of articles on families
of children with mental retardation that have appeared
in the American Journal on Mental Retardation (and its
earlier, differently named forerunner journals). In addi-
tion to predating most studies by developmental or ap-
plied developmental psychologists on these issues,
recent family and ecological research in mental retarda-
tion has not been so tightly tied to similar research on
typically developing children.
One example illustrates this separate history within
the mental retardation field. Until the early 1980s, most
studies on families of children with mental retardation
were negatively tinged, emphasizing how different fam-
ily members were negatively affected by raising the
child with mental retardation. Over many studies during
the 1960s and 1970s, researchers concluded that (com-
pared to parents and families of same-age, typically de-
veloping children):
Mothers of children with mental retardation were
more often depressed (W. L. Friedrich & Friedrich,
1981) and preoccupied with their children and had
more difficulty handling anger at their children
(Cummings, Bayley, & Rie, 1966).
Fathers experienced role constriction (Cummings,
1976) and more depression and neuroticism (Erick-
son, 1969).
Couples showed lower levels of marital satisfaction
(W. L. Friedrich & Friedrich, 1981).
Families were considered to be economically immo-
bile (Farber, 1970) and stuck in earlier stages of
family development (Farber, 1959).
Beginning in the early 1980s, this focus on negative
effects began to change. Crnic, Friedrich, and Green-
berg (1983) noted that children with mental retardation
were better thought of as stressors on the family system.
Like illness, moving, loss of a job, or natural disasters, a
child with mental retardation could either negatively or
positively affect parents and families as a whole. The
child with mental retardation did not necessarily nega-
tively impact the family. Although some researchers
question the degree to which perspectives have changed
over the past 2 decades (Dunst, Humphries, & Trivette,
2002; Helff & Glidden, 1998), most would agree that
studies of parents, families, and siblings of children
with mental retardation have become less negative. We
thus see a historical change in research orientation that
is specific to mental retardation family research.
Changing Ecology of Mental Retardation
In addition to shifting research perspectives, major
changes have occurred in childrens ecologies. Consider
even the living status of children with mental retarda-
tion. Forty years ago, many more persons, including chil-
dren, resided in large, often impersonal institutions. In
1967, almost 200,000 Americans lived in institutions,
including 91,000 children. By 1997, that number had
fallen to 56,161, including fewer than 3,000 children
(L. L. Anderson, Lakin, Mangan, & Prouty, 1998; Lakin,
Prouty, Braddock, & Anderson, 1997). Children with
mental retardation now live in their own family home;
adults are living either in their family home or in group
homes, apartments, or other community-based settings.
As these children increasingly live in their family
home, community-based services have increased many
times over. Again, comparisons to the 1960s and early
1970s are instructive. Until the mid-1970s, children
with mental retardation were not guaranteed access to
public schooling during the school-age years. Access to
formal education therefore varied widely, depending
mainly on the generosity of the familys particular town
or state. Only in 1975, with the passage of the federal
Education for All Handicapped Children Act (PL 94-
142), were states and towns in the United States re-
quired to provide a free, appropriate public education
to all students, including those with disabilities (Halla-
han & Kauffman, 2002).
Over the past 3 decades, other services have also
been instituted that cover the preschool and the after-
school years. In addition to school services from age 3
through 21 years, states now provide early intervention
services during the 0- to 3-year period. Under federal
law PL 99-457, educational and support services have
Contextualist Views of Development: Interactions, Transactions, Ecologies 469
been expanded to the 0- to 3-year-old group, allowing a
bridging of services from birth into the school years. A
major component of PL 99-457 is its provision of an In-
dividualized Family Service Plan, thereby recognizing
that the family, as opposed to the child alone, needs ser-
vices during these early years (Krauss & Hauser-Cram,
1992). And later, after the school-age years, so-called
transitional services help persons with disabilities to
make the transition from the school years to lives in
which young adults work and live as independently as
possible (for helpful programs, services, and agencies,
see Morris, 2002). Services for individuals and their
families are thus lifelong, and one must consider
the interplay between children-parents-families and the
service-delivery system from a life-span perspective.
Finally, one must appreciate changes in how all ser-
vices are being conceptualized. No longer are children,
parents, siblings, and families conceptualized as pa-
tients who need to be cured; instead, they are seen as
personsor consumers of serviceswho require long-
or short-term support to enable them to cope more ef-
fectively. The goal, then, is to provide individualized
supports to address the needs of each family. One family
may require more information about a range of state-
supported services, another respite care (i.e., short-term
out-of-family care) so that the family can get a break
from the full-time care of the offspring with disabilities.
Still other parents may need to be put in touch with par-
ents of children with similar problems, or who have
dealt with the same school district, or who can other-
wise help in their particular situation. This support
revolution has changed the nature of services and how
such services are understood by families and profession-
als (Hallahan & Kauffman, 2002).
Children, parents, the mental retardation field, and
society at large, then, must all be considered when dis-
cussing larger ecological issues for children with
mental retardation. We now discuss parent-child inter-
actions, parental perceptions, parent-family reactions,
and larger environments.
Parent-Child Interactions
Influenced by interactionism and the work on maternal
input language begun in the early 1970s (Snow, 1972),
developmentally oriented researchers began to examine
interactions between parents and their children with
mental retardation. These findings yielded inconsistent
results. Sometimes parents of children with mental re-
tardation acted the same as parents of typically develop-
ing children, sometimes they differed markedly.
These inconsistent findings, however, were not ran-
dom. Instead, two dimensions seemed important. The
first concerned whether one compared parents of chil-
dren with mental retardation to typical children who
were of the same chronological age or the same level of
functioning (such as the childs mental age or language
age). When chronological age comparisons were em-
ployed, parents of children with mental retardation
showed different behaviors. Buium, Rynders, and Tur-
nure (1974) and Marshall, Hegrenes, and Goldstein
(1973) both found that mothers of children with Down
syndrome provided less complex verbal input and were
more controlling in their interactive styles than were
mothers of same-age nonretarded children. In both of
these early studies, however, children with mental retar-
dation were compared to typically developing children
of the same chronological age. With Rondals (1977)
work in the late 1970s, researchers began to appreciate
that parental behaviors might best be compared using
typically developing groups of the same mental or lan-
guage age, as opposed to the same chronological age.
But a second dimension was also at play. Specifically,
one needed to distinguish the structure versus the style
of parental behaviors. Structure, in this sense, includes
the grammatical sophistication (the mean length of utter-
ance, or MLU) or the degree of information (type-token
ratio) of sentences uttered by the parent to the child. In
contrast, style refers to the degree to which the parent
teaches the child, leads or follows the child in the inter-
action, and is generally didactic and intrusive.
Once one makes this second, structure-style distinc-
tion, findings have been fairly consistent. Rondal (1977,
p. 242) noted that, when children with Down syndrome
and nonretarded children were matched on the childs
MLU, None of the comparisons of mothers speech to
normal and to Down Syndrome children led to differ-
ences that were significant or close to significant be-
tween the two groups. Additionally, both groups of
mothers adjusted their language upward (i.e., longer
MLUs, type-token ratios) as the childrens language lev-
els increased. Rondal concluded that the maternal lin-
guistic environment of DS children between MLU 1 and
3 is an appropriate one (p. 242).
In contrast, mothers of children with mental retarda-
tion are different when one focuses on their styles of
interaction. Even when children with versus with-
out mental retardation are equated on overall mental or
470 Mental Retardation
linguistic age, mothers of children with mental retarda-
tion are generally more didactic, directive, and intrusive
compared to mothers of nonretarded children (Marfo,
1990). Tannock (1988) found that, compared to mothers
of nonretarded children, mothers of children with Down
syndrome took interactive turns that were longer and
more frequent; in addition, these mothers more often
clashed, or spoke at the same time as, their children
(see also Vietze, Abernathy, Ashe, & Faulstich, 1978).
Mothers of children with Down syndrome also switched
the topic of conversation more often, and less often
silently responded to the childs utterance. The result
was a greater percentage of more asymmetrical conver-
sations, conversations in which mothers controlled the
topic, the childs response, and the nature of the back-
and-forth conversation.
Why this difference between the structure and the
style of parent-child interactions vis--vis typically de-
veloping children? The most common explanation is that
mothers of children with mental retardation inject their
parenting concerns into the interactive session. Com-
pared to mothers of typically developing children, more
of the mothers of children with mental retardation con-
sider interactions as teaching sessions, as moments
not to be squandered in the nonstop effort to intervene
effectively. As one mother said about interacting with
her child with Down syndrome, Its sit him on your
knee and talk to him, thats the main object. Play with
him, speak to the child, teach him something (quoted in
Jones, 1980, p. 221). Other parents also spoke of their
desires to intervene with their children, even in situa-
tions in which mothers of nonretarded children feel fine
with playing or becoming emotionally close to their off-
spring (Cardoso-Martins & Mervis, 1984).
Further complicating matters are behavioral charac-
teristics of the children themselves. Here we again note
differences relating to children with specific types of
mental retardation. Specifically, young children with
Down syndrome are often more lethargic and more hy-
potonic than are infants and young children with mental
retardation in general. As a result, young children with
Down syndrome may provide fewer and less clear inter-
active cues, at least in the months directly prior to inten-
tional communication (Hyche, Bakeman, & Adamson,
1992). These infants may be less readable to the
mother (Goldberg, 1977; Walden, 1996), even as moth-
ers gradually learn to interpret their childs vague or
slight communicative behaviors (Sorce & Emde, 1982;
Yoder, 1986).
Similarly, one might speculate about the effects on
others of the facial appearance of children with Down
syndrome. In general, children (and adults) with Down
syndrome possess a face that appears more infantile and
babylike, rounder and with smaller facial features. As
Zebrowitz (1997) has shown, adults perceive more
baby-faced individuals as friendlier, more social, and
more compliant. Such attributions also occur when rat-
ing the faces of children with Down syndrome compared
to typically developing children or to children with an-
other (more adult-looking) genetic mental retardation
syndrome (Fidler & Hodapp, 1999). Compared to moth-
ers of children with other forms of mental retardation,
mothers of children with Down syndrome give vocaliza-
tions that are at a higher register and that show greater
pitch variance (i.e., sing-songy; Fidler, 2003). Such vo-
calizations are congruent with the intonations of moth-
erese that have been universally found by Fernald
(1989) and others.
Two additional issues deserve mention. First, several
studies have now examined variation in maternal behav-
iors within samples with mental retardation (usually
with Down syndrome). In the first direct examination of
this issue, Crawley and Spiker (1983) rated maternal
sensitivity and directiveness of mothers in their interac-
tions with their 2-year-old children with Down syn-
drome. They found wide individual differences from one
mother to another. Some mothers were highly directive,
whereas others followed the childs lead; similarly,
mothers varied widely in their rated degrees of sensitiv-
ity to their children. Because the two dimensions of sen-
sitivity and directiveness were somewhat orthogonal,
mothers could be high or low on either sensitivity or di-
rectiveness. All four combinations were demonstrated
in this study. Just as mothers of nonretarded children
vary widely on both directiveness and sensitivity, so,
too, do mothers of children with Down syndrome.
A second issue concerns the effects of different ma-
ternal behaviors on childrens development. In the sole
study of this issue, Harris, Kasari, and Sigman (1996)
examined the effects of maternal interactive behaviors
on the expressive and receptive language behaviors of
children with Down syndrome. Examining children
when they were 2 and again at 3 years of age, Harris
et al. found that the mean length of time in which moth-
ers and children were engaged in joint attention (i.e., fo-
cusing on the same object) was correlated to the childs
degree of receptive language gain over the 1-year inter-
val. In addition, the childs receptive language gains
Contextualist Views of Development: Interactions, Transactions, Ecologies 471
were also correlated with the amount of time that moth-
ers maintained the childs attention to child-selected
toys, and (negatively) to instances of redirecting the
childs focus of attention and of engaging in greater
numbers of separate joint-attention episodes. Such find-
ings parallel those found for interactions between moth-
ers and typically developing infants, where increased
maternal sensitivity (Baumwell, Tamis-LeMonda, &
Bornstein, 1997) and more joint-attention episodes
(Tomasello & Farrar, 1986) also promote young chil-
drens early language abilities. For both typically devel-
oping children and children with Down syndrome, then,
mothers facilitate childrens processing of maternal
input language when they attempt to prolong episodes of
mother-child joint attention by following their childs
lead and responding to the childs interests and behav-
iors (Paparella & Kasari, 2004). The childs receptive
language abilities increase accordingly.
Parent-child interactions are, then, the same in struc-
ture and different in style when the child has mental re-
tardation. Although maternal emotions and perceptions
may account for style differences, differences may also
reside in the children themselves. As we examine chil-
drens behaviors and maternal emotions and percep-
tions, we come to understand what is happening, why,
and how such interactions may be most useful for inter-
vention efforts.
Perceptions
Although most would acknowledge that parental percep-
tions probably differ when raising a child with versus
without mental retardation, how such perceptions differ
is less well understood, nor do we know how any differ-
ences in parental perceptions might relate to differing
behaviors or to different child outcomes. It is important,
too, to acknowledge just how widespread parental per-
ceptions truly are, ranging all the way from parental
emotions to parental attributions of their childrens
needs and abilities.
Considered in these ways, the finding of differing
parental interactive behaviors is most likely due to dif-
ferences in parental perceptions. More didactic and con-
trolling parental behaviors may indeed reflect parents
perceptions that they need to teach, stimulate, and push
their children. Such differences in style seem common
among parents of children with mental retardation and
with other forms of disability as well (e.g., children
with motor impairments, blindness, deafness, autism).
It is also possible to consider parental perceptions in
light of the childs cause of mental retardation. More-
over, the very fact that there is a clear, identifiable cause
may be helpful to parents. In one study, Goldberg, Mar-
covitch, MacGregor, and Lojkasek (1986) found that
mothers of children with mental retardation from un-
known causes suffered greater amounts of stress com-
pared to mothers of children with either Down syndrome
or mental retardation caused from specific neurological
impairments. Being able to identify a clear cause may it-
self help parents of children with mental retardation.
Recently, we have begun to explore the idea of using
attribution theory to help explain parental behaviors in
response to children with different genetic mental retar-
dation syndromes (with their specific, etiology-related
strengths and weaknesses). In prior work with typically
developing children, Graham (1991) found that, in ac-
cordance with attribution theory (Weiner, 1985), teach-
ers showed different patterns of attributions when their
students were perceived to have high versus low levels of
skills in particular activities. When children were
judged to be skilled at a particular task, teachers and
parents attributed these childrens success to their chil-
drens high levels of skill, whereas failure was attributed
to the childs not trying (i.e., lack of effort). In contrast,
children perceived to have low levels of skill were per-
ceived to succeed at a task only by effort (if children
failed, it was due to their low level of ability). Such per-
ceptions then linked to subsequent adult behaviors, such
that adults gave greater amounts of help and reward to
lower- than to higher-skill children when each succeeded
(the idea being that higher-skill children do not need as
much help/reward to successfully complete the task).
Given such clear predictions from attribution the-
oryand such clearly divergent levels of ability in spe-
cific etiological groupsLy and Hodapp (2005) recently
examined maternal helping and reinforcement behaviors
in children with two genetic syndromes. Recall that, as a
group, children with Prader-Willi syndrome perform es-
pecially well on jigsaw puzzles (Dykens, 2002); in con-
trast, children with Willliams syndrome show deficits
( beyond their overall mental age) in most tasks of visu-
ospatial functioning (Mervis et al., 1999). Capitalizing
on this contrasting strength-weakness across these two
syndromes, Ly and Hodapp had mothers and their chil-
dren with either Prader-Willi or Williams syndromes in-
teract around a novel jigsaw puzzle.
As might be expected from an attributional perspec-
tive (Graham, 1991), mothers of children with Williams
472 Mental Retardation
syndrome gave over twice as many reinforcers (praises,
clapping) and helping behaviors to their children as did
parents of children with Prader-Willi syndrome. Looking
further, such etiology-group differences appeared due
both to the childs ability level in puzzles (measured sep-
arately from the mother, in another room) and to the
childs etiology (Prader-Willi syndrome versus Williams
syndrome). Parents respond not only to the childs actual
level of ability, but also to ability profiles that generally
characterize each of these two syndromes.
Attribution theory has also been used to help explain
the perceptions of parents of children with Down syn-
drome. Ly and Hodapp (2002) gave parents of children
with Down syndrome versus parents of children with
other, non-Down syndrome forms of mental retardation
hypothetical vignettes. These vignettes involved the
childs noncompliance to parental commands: one com-
mand to clean up his or her room, another to turn down
the television set when the mother received a phone call.
In addition to rating various reasons for why their child
would not comply in these two instances, mothers also
were asked to rate their childs personality and mal-
adaptive behaviors.
Again, parents reacted to the childs more sociable,
upbeat personality, but also to the childs specific etio-
logical label. Specifically, parents of children with
Down syndrome more often attributed the childs non-
compliant behaviors to normative concerns (My child
is acting like other children his or her age). But such
connections between child personality and normalizing
behaviors were found only within the Down syndrome
group. Among parents of children with Down syndrome,
those who saw their child as more sociable also more
highly rated normalizing as the reason for their childs
noncompliance (r = .43, p < .01). But among parents of
children with mixed forms of mental retardation, no
such connections existed between child personality and
parental ratings of normalizing attributions (r = .05, ns).
Although intriguing, these studies merely scratch the
surface in our understandings of parental perceptions.
We continue to know little about these parents percep-
tions, or how such perceptions might relate to the childs
etiology, overall abilities, or specific abilities on indi-
vidual tasks. We know little as well about any changes in
attributions, perceptions, and expectations by different
adults (mothers, fathers, teachers), in different contexts
(schools, homes, communities), and when the child is
faced with different tasks (academic, leisure, specific
tasks reflecting etiology-related skills). Finally, we have
no idea how parents develop these perceptions, how
parental perceptions link to behaviors, and how parental
perceptions (and subsequent behaviors) link in turn to
the childs own behaviors or perceptions.
Parent and Family Reactions
As noted earlier, the conceptualization of parental and
familial reactions has changed markedly over the years,
as have the nature and philosophy of service delivery.
Partly as a result of such changes, changes have also oc-
curred in how studies are performed. In effect, moving
from a pathology to a stress-and-coping perspective
emphasizes those risks and protective factors that fos-
ter better parental and familial coping. From the earlier
view that all parents and families of children with men-
tal retardation are prone to depression, conflict, and
other negative consequences, we can now better appre-
ciate characteristicsin the children themselves, in
parents, and in familiesthat might predict more suc-
cessful reactions. We now turn to findings showing dif-
ferent child, parent, and family factors predisposing to
better or worse outcomes.
Child Factors
Certain aspects of children seem to be associated with
better parent and family functioning, whereas others are
not. In most studies, the childs overall degree of impair-
ment (i.e., IQ), level of functioning (mental age), and
gender are unassociated with better or worse parent
and family reactions. In contrast, the childs degree and
amount of maladaptive behavior and psychopathology
seem to adversely influence parent and family function-
ing, whereas the childs sociability and interest in peo-
ple seem helpful to parents.
The influences of maladaptive behavior can be seen
in groups with mixed forms of mental retardation and
in children with specific etiologies. Minnes (1988) and
Margalit, Shulman, and Stuchiner (1989) have found
that more child maladaptive behavior is associated with
greater amounts of parental stress. Similarly, higher
levels of child maladaptive behavior is associated with
higher parental stress levels in children with Prader-
Willi syndrome (Hodapp, Dykens, & Masino, 1997) and
comparing parents of children with Prader-Willi,
Down, and Smith-Magenis syndromes (Fidler, Hodapp,
& Dykens, 2000).
From the opposite perspective, parents and families
of children with Down syndrome may cope better com-
Contextualist Views of Development: Interactions, Transactions, Ecologies 473
pared to parents of children with other disability condi-
tions. Such an advantage arises in studies that compare
parents of children with Down syndrome to children
with autism (Holroyd & MacArthur, 1976; Kasari &
Sigman, 1997), with mixed forms of mental retardation
(Hodapp et al., 2003), with other disabilities (Hanson &
Hanline, 1990), and with emotional problems ( but with-
out mental retardation; Thomas & Olsen, 1993).
Granted, a few studies do not find this advantage for
parents of children with Down syndrome (Cahill &
Glidden, 1996). Overall, however, most studies do find
that parents of children with Down syndrome experi-
ence less parental stress than do parents of children with
other disabilities.
Three further issues deserve mention. First, the so-
called Down syndrome advantage probably occurs only
in comparison to parents of children with other disabili-
ties. In most studies, parents of typically developing
children report less stress than do parents of children
with Down syndrome (Roach, Orsmond, & Barratt,
1999; Scott, Atkinson, Minton, & Bowman, 1997; al-
though see also Sanders & Morgan, 1997; Wolf, Noh,
Fisman, & Speechley, 1989).
Second, certain aspects of parental reactions might
show more of a Down syndrome advantage. Across sev-
eral studies, parents of children with Down syndrome
rate their children as more rewarding and as more ac-
ceptable than do parents of children with other disabili-
ties. Hoppes and Harris (1990) found that, relative to
parents of children with autism, parents of children with
Down syndrome regarded their children as more reward-
ing. Noh, Dumas, Wolf, and Fisman (1989) also found
the same pattern when contrasting parents of children
with Down syndrome to parents of children with autism
or with conduct disorder. Likewise, Hodapp et al. (2003)
found that, relative to parents of children with heteroge-
neous causes of mental retardation, mothers of children
with Down syndrome considered their child more ac-
ceptable and more rewarding. Some studies even find
that parental reinforcement and acceptability are equal
in parents of children with Down syndrome versus
same-age typically developing children (e.g., Roache
et al., 1999). In a few studies, parents of children with
Down syndrome even exceed parents of typically devel-
oping children on these two specific measures. Thus,
Noh et al. conclude that, although parents of children
with Down syndrome rated their children as less attrac-
tive, socially appropriate, and intelligent, they regarded
their children as happier and as a greater source of pos-
itive reinforcement than the parents of normal children
(p. 460).
Third, one must consider the age of the child with
Down syndrome. In a large cross-sectional study,
Dykens, Shah, Sagun, Beck, and King (2002) noted that
adolescents with Down syndrome, in addition to show-
ing lesser amounts of stubbornness and other externaliz-
ing problems, may become more inward during the
adolescent years (see also Meyers & Pueschel, 1991;
Tonge & Einfeld, 2003). Using a personality question-
naire, Hodapp et al. (2003) found a similar, subtle with-
drawal, and parents of these older teens and young
adults reported that their children were less rewarding
and acceptable (see also Cunningham, 1996). Though
there may be a Down syndrome advantage for parents
and families of children with Down syndrome, this ad-
vantage may be affected by the inwardness gradually
occurring in many adolescents and young adults with
this disorder.
Finally, although we view the child with Down syn-
drome as eliciting reactions from parents and families,
we acknowledge that children with Down syndrome may
differ in other ways from children with other disabili-
ties. Down syndrome is a common disorder, is diagnosed
at birth, is widely known to both professionals and the
lay public alike, and has several active parent and advo-
cacy groups. As such, some of the Down syndrome ad-
vantage may come about through characteristics that are
separate from the childs behavior. The question boils
down to whether any Down syndrome advantage arises
from behaviors of the children themselves, or from
parental or societal characteristics that are associated
with Down syndrome. We suspect that child and associ-
ated characteristics may both be operating, but more
studies are needed.
Parent and Family Factors
In addition to various child factors, one must also real-
ize the importance of parent and family factors on par-
ent and family coping. A first important issue concerns
the outlook and general problem-solving style of par-
ents (usually mothers) themselves. Following Folkman,
Schaefer, and Lazarus (1979), mothers can be identi-
fied as predominantly using either problem-focused
or emotion-focused coping strategies (for a review,
see Turnbull et al., 1993). In the first, mothers essen-
tially address their childs mental retardation as a prac-
tical, concrete problem to be dealt with. These mothers
make plans to address everyday problems, work hard to
474 Mental Retardation
alleviate those problems, and feel that they have learned
from their experiences. In contrast, another group of
mothers either totally deny their feelings about their
child and the disability, or instead become overly con-
cerned, almost obsessed, with their own feelings of de-
pression and grief.
Across a range of studies, such differences seem in-
tricately involved with the mothers emotional out-
comes. Those mothers who are active, problem-focused
copers do better. Several studies have now documented
that those parents who engage in active, problem-based
styles of coping experience less depression than those
who either deny their emotional feelings or who engage
in what has been called emotion-based coping (e.g.,
Essex, Seltzer, & Krauss, 1999).
A final set of characteristics concerns family demo-
graphics. To list briefly, the following have been shown
in various studies:
Families who are more affluent cope better with
rearing a child with disabilities than do those making
less money (Farber, 1970).
Two-parent families cope better than one-parent fam-
ilies (Beckman, 1983).
Women in better marriages cope better than those in
troubled marriages (Beckman, 1983; W. N. Friedrich,
1979).
Although none of these findings is surprising, each nev-
ertheless highlights the ways family or couple demo-
graphics or dynamics affect the coping of both parents
and families.
Schools, Neighborhoods, and Larger Ecologies
In contrast to the work on parent-child interactions,
parental perceptions, and parent and family factors,
much less research has been done on the larger ecologies
of children with mental retardation. Unlike, for exam-
ple, Bryants (1985) neighborhood walk with typically
developing children to determine these childrens sup-
port network, few studies examine the neighborhoods
or larger ecologies of children with mental retardation.
Although schooling has been of interest within the spe-
cial education field, most studies do not look at schools
in what might be considered ecological ways; instead,
dominant issues include parental satisfaction with dif-
ferent types of placements for their children, or school-
parent connections, or the effects of the childs specific
school placement (fully integrated or mainstreamed only
some of the day) on these childrens academic and social
achievements (Freeman & Alkin, 2000).
Such inattention to ecological matters is surprising
given the many societal changes in the lives of children
with disabilities and their families. As noted earlier,
changes have occurred in where children with mental re-
tardation live, in the increased amount of community-
based services, and in the changes from pathological to
supportive philosophies underlying those services. Such
changes make more complicated the lives of children
with mental retardation and their families. Consider the
experience of giving birth and raising a child with men-
tal retardation, as seen from the perspective of parents.
With only a few exceptions (e.g., parents who adopt
children with Down syndrome; Flaherty & Glidden,
2002), most parents are unprepared for the birth of a
child with disabilities. If the child has Down syndrome
or another easily diagnosed disorder, parents learn at
birth about their childs diagnosis. Physicians and other
health personnel are also feeling guilty and upset, and
stories abound about parents who were told about their
childs diagnosis in uncaring, unprofessional ways, or
were given wildly pessimistic outcomes about their
childs ultimate capabilities and life outcome (Turnbull
& Turnbull, 1997). For parents who do not learn of their
childrens diagnosis at birth, nagging suspicions often
persist that somehow their child is not right, even as pe-
diatricians and others often tell them that the child will
grow out of it.
Apart from diagnosis itself, these parents are gener-
ally unprepared to navigate the entire gamut of existing
services. When parents give birth to a child with a dis-
ability, they must negotiate the service-delivery system.
In every state, parents thus begin dealing with such
agencies as the Department of Developmental Disabili-
ties (differently named from state to state), and with
that departments various agencies or centers, who actu-
ally administer the funds and programs. Later, during
the school years, parents work most closely with their
childs school district, school administrators, and teach-
ers. After the school years, transition and adult services
enter in. These departments and services are generally
unknown to most people in the general public.
As these interactions proceed, parents are faced with
a wide array of rights and responsibilities. Consider
schools, the main service provider from the time the
child is 3 to the time he or she is 21 years old (Hallahan
Contextualist Views of Development: Interactions, Transactions, Ecologies 475
& Kauffman, 2002). Federal laws such as the Individu-
als with Disabilities Education Act (passed in 1990;
amended in 1997 and 2004) now provide as a right a
free, appropriate public school education for all children
with disabilities. But parents need to be aware of an en-
tire gamut of hearings, appeals, and procedures (Council
for Exceptional Children, 1998).
Such hearings and procedures then culminate in the
childs actual placement within a specific educational
setting. Ideally, all children should be educated in the
least restrictive environment (LRE), with least re-
strictive generally referring to environments that are
most like the typical, general education classroom. De-
pending on the childs individual needs, LRE allows for
full-time integration with nondisabled children, part-
time integration with a resource room or specialist, spe-
cial classes within a public school, and even special
classes or special residential schools when necessary to
meet the childs educational needs.
In whatever setting education takes place, the childs
teachers, administrators, and parents must agree on the
various goals, services, and practices that will be put in
place to educate the student with disabilities. Such goals
and practices are codified in the childs individualized
educational plan (IEP; Bateman & Linden, 1998), which
has been developed out of the series of legal hearings
and appeals mentioned earlier.
Although we often think of disabilities as pertaining
mostly to children, children with disabilities eventually
grow up to become adults. In this regard, one of the most
widespread adaptations has involved transition services.
To simplify slightly, transition services focus on skills
needed for independent living and working. The goal is
that, upon graduation, young adults with disabilities
will be able to live either on their own or in a community
group home, and to be competitively employed in the
community (Rusch & Chadsey, 1998). To live indepen-
dently, students are taught to shop for clothes and food
within a budget, to use the post office, to understand
schedules and take public buses or trains, and to visit a
doctor or dentist. To be able to be competitively em-
ployed by community businesses, students are trained in
a variety of vocational skills. Such training addresses
more general issues such as being punctual, courteous,
and on task, as well as providing actual practice in work-
ing in unskilled or semiskilled jobs in the community.
Clearly, the amount and complexity of such informa-
tion are staggering to most parents, who generally have
little knowledge or experience of child development, spe-
cial education, social service systems, law, or other rele-
vant areas. In addition, parents must simultaneously deal
with all of the usual transitions that arise when they em-
bark on parenting any child (Bornstein, 2002; Heinicke,
2002). For these reasons, parenting children with mental
retardation has often been likened to entering a foreign
country, a country in which the language, customs, and
expectations are all different from expected.
Fortunately, some guideposts are available to help
parents and families in navigating this new, foreign
world. In each state, a lead agency has been designated
to be in charge of early intervention services, and all
states have some version of a Department of Mental Re-
tardation or Department of Developmental Disabilities.
In every state, the federal government has set up one (or
a few) University Centers for Excellence in Develop-
mental Disabilities (UCEDD; formerly called Univer-
sity Affiliated Programs). These centers provide family
resource centers, support groups for parents and sib-
lings, conferences, and advocacy services to deal with
schools or regional centers. Local and state educational
organizations can also help parents, as can local hospi-
tals and social service agencies.
On the national level, many informational services
exist to help parents of children with disabilities. Some
organizations, such as the Arc of the United States
(originally, the Association for Retarded Citizens), can
help parents find resources in their area, and the Coun-
cil for Exceptional Children can help parents locate ed-
ucational resources. Others involve parent-professional
groups (e.g., National Organization of Rare Disorders)
or federally sponsored Web sites (National Institutes of
Health). Compared to only a few decades ago, families
can access an almost bewildering amount of supportive
services, contacts, and educational and medical infor-
mation. This exponential increase in potential knowl-
edge and support is an important change in the culture
of disabilities. More knowledge and supportive services
are created every day, and parents are both helped and
challenged by these vast information and service sys-
tems. See Table 12.2 for a listing of helpful resources.
Summary
By definition, children with mental retardation are dif-
ferent from typically developing children, and any stud-
ies of parent-child interactions, parental perceptions,
families, or even neighborhoods and schools all need to
consider these differences. One must acknowledge the
476
National Information Center for Children and Youth with Disabilities
P.O. Box 1492
Washington, DC 20013
(800) 695-0285
www.nichcy.org
Association of Retarded Citizens of the United States (The ARC)
100 Wayne Avenue, Suite 650
Silver Spring, MD 20910
(301) 565-3842
www.thearc.org
American Association on Mental Retardation (AAMR)
1710 Kalorama Road, NW
Washington, DC 20009-2683
(800) 424-3688
www.aamr.org
Council for Exceptional Children (CEC)
1110 North Glebe Road, Suite 300
Arlington, VA 22201-5704
(888) CEC-SPED
www.cec.sped.org
Association of University Centers on Disabilities (AUCD)
8630 Fenton Street , Suite 410
Silver Spring, MD 20910
(301) 588-8252
www.aucd.org
The Association for Persons with Severe Handicaps (TASH)
29 West Susquehanna Avenue, Suite 210
Baltimore, MD 21204
(410) 828-8274
www.tash.org
Clearinghouse of Disability Information (CDI )
Office of Special Education and Rehabilitation Services
Swit zer Building, Room 3132
330 C Street , SW
Washington, DC 20202-2524
(202) 334-8241
National Information Center for Children and Youth with
Disabilities (NICHCY)
P.O. Box 1492
Washington, DC 20013
(800) 695-0285
www.nichcy.org
Resources for Children with Special Needs, Inc.
116 E. 16th Street , 5th f loor
New York, NY 10003
(212) 677-4650
www.resourcesnyc.org
CAPP National Parent Resource Center
Federation for Children with Special Needs
95 Berkeley Street , Suite 104
Boston, MA 02116
(617) 482-2915
National Parent Network on Disabilities (NPND)
1727 King Street , Suite 305
Alexandria, VA 22314
(703) 684-6763
www.npnd.org
Sibling Information Network
1775 Ellington Road
South Windsor, CT 07074
(203) 648-1205
National Organization for Rare Disorders (NORD)
55 Kenosia Avenue
P.O. Box 1968
Danbury, CT 06813-1968
(203) 744-0100
(800) 999-6673 (voicemail only)
www.rarediseases.org
Association for Children with Down Syndrome
4 Fern Place
Plainview, NY 11779
(516) 933-4700 X100
www.acds.org
National Down Syndrome Society
666 Broadway
New York, NY 10012
(800) 221-4602
www.ndss.org
National Down Syndrome Congress (NDSC)
1370 Center Drive, Suite 102
Atlanta, GA 30338
http://ndscenter.org
National Fragile X Syndrome Foundation
P.O. Box 190488
San Francisco, CA 94119
(800) 688-8765
www.fragilex.org
Prader-Willi Syndrome Association
5700 Midnight Pass Rd.
Sarasota, FL 34242
(800) 926-4797
www.pwsausa.org
The Williams Syndrome Association
P.O. Box 297
Clawson, MI 48017-0297
(800) 806-1871
www.williams-syndrome.org
TABLE 12.2 Support and Informational Organizations
Research Issues 477
many reactions that parents have to rearing a child with
mental retardation, the parallel history of parent and
family studies in the mental retardation field, and the
many historical changes in how society has treated and
conceptualized children with mental retardation and
their families.
Given these important background issues, we note the
ways interactions are the same but different when consid-
ering parents and their children with mental retardation.
When compared to typically developing children of the
same levels of functioning on structural aspects of mater-
nal input language, such interactions seem similar. In con-
trast, differences emerge in parent-child interactions
when children in the typical versus retarded groups are
matched on chronological age (not on mental or language
age) and when one examines maternal style. Stylistically,
mothers of children with mental retardation (versus moth-
ers of typically developing children matched for mental or
language age) seem much more didactic and controlling.
Such stylistic differences lead one to consider the
perceptions of parents of children with mental retarda-
tion. Although a general consensus holds that these
parents differ from parents of typically developing chil-
dren in their strong desires to teach their children, other
aspects of parental perceptions seem much less well ex-
amined. In addition, only a few studies have yet used at-
tribution theory in relation to children with mental
retardation, or to children whose genetic etiologies lead
to relatively strong versus weak performances on par-
ticular tasks.
So, too, is more work needed on many issues relating
to families of children with mental retardation. Family
work has changed dramatically in its orientation over the
past 30 years, as researchers now adopt perspectives fo-
cusing on the child as a stressor on the family system.
Conceptualized as a stressor, children with mental retar-
dation might contribute to better, worse, or unchanged
family functioning. To date, a few risk and protective
factors have been identified using this stress-and-coping
perspective, but many areas of family functioning re-
main open for research.
Finally, the reaction of the wider society has changed
markedly in regard to children with mental retardation
and their families. Even compared to 20 or 30 years ago,
the amount and type of services have increased enor-
mously, as have the ways that professionals and families
think about such services. Such changes have mostly
been helpful, as children with mental retardation and
their families can now benefit from a lifelong array of
services. Nevertheless, such services raise new chal-
lenges for parents, who must increasingly learn their
childs disability, available services, and how and when
parents can access such services. We know little about
how parents come to know about or use such services,
how they overcome barriers to knowledge or access, or
what the effects of such services are on children them-
selves or on family members.
RESEARCH ISSUES
In summarizing findings of the childs and environ-
ments development, we have often mentioned gaps in
our understanding. But in addition to gaps related to con-
tent knowledge, other gaps also exist concerning how
best to perform developmentally oriented behavioral re-
search. Such research issues include but go beyond simi-
lar issues in child or applied child development. Four
such issues are discussed next.
The Nature of Research Groups
The first unresolved issue in mental retardation re-
search concerns the nature of the group itself. As noted
earlier, researchers differ in how they classify persons
with mental retardation, with some choosing to exam-
ine groups based on level of impairment (mild, moder-
ate, severe, or profound mental retardation), others on
mental retardations two groups (cultural-familial ver-
sus organic), still others on the individuals etiology.
Although historically the degree-of-impairment ap-
proach has predominated, newer mental retardation be-
havioral research is more often taking etiology into
account. Consider Figure 12.2, a graph of articles pub-
lished in the American Journal on Mental Retardation
(AJMR), the most prominent journal devoted to behav-
ioral studies in the mental retardation field (Hodapp,
2004a). The large majority of behavioral research arti-
cles in AJMR published during the 1970s and 1980s
classified their research subjects by level of impairment;
similar conclusions arise when considering other mental
retardation journals (Hodapp & Dykens, 1994) and
when surveying articles on persons with both mental re-
tardation and emotional-behavioral problems (Dykens,
1996). But as the figure illustrates, such a state of af-
fairs may be changing; at present, almost one-third of
behavioral research articles in AJMR now separate their
groups by etiology.
478 Mental Retardation
This recent rise in etiology-based behavioral articles
can be illustrated in other ways as well. Consider the num-
bers of behavioral research articles on such disorders as
Down syndrome, Prader-Willi syndrome, Williams syn-
drome, and fragile X syndrome. Comparing these num-
bers during the 1980s (1980 to 1989) versus the 1990s
(1990 to 1999), one finds that empirical journal articles
on the behavior of individuals with Williams syndrome in-
creased from 10 to 81; on Prader-Willi syndrome, from 24
to 86; on fragile X syndrome, from 60 to 149. Even for
Down syndrome, the single genetic syndrome with a long-
term, well-established history of behavioral research, the
numbers of behavioral studies almost doubled from the
1980s to the 1990s (607 to 1,140; Hodapp & Dykens,
2004). With intriguing findings occurring in many of
these syndromes, the numbers of articles should continue
rising in the decades to come.
But such steep rises tell only a part of the story. At least
1,000 genetic syndromes are now thought to be associated
with mental retardation. Many such syndromes are fairly
rare, making it difficult to attain large enough subject
groups. Still, not a single study exclusively devoted to be-
havior or behavioral development exists for the large ma-
jority of these syndromes. Although our knowledge of
individuals with different etiologies of mental retardation
has increased tremendously, we still have a long way to go.
Control-Contrast Groups to Examine
Childrens Own Behavioral Functioning
Once one settles on the nature of the subject group, the
next problem concerns control or comparison groups. To
whom, exactly, should one compare ones group with
mental retardation? We begin with a historical sense of
this issue, then discuss the ways the control-contrast
group issue has played out when considering etiology-
based behavioral research.
Historical Issues
Over the years, a long-standing controversy has related to
two types of comparisons to typically developing chil-
dren (Hodapp & Zigler, 1995). One group, referred to by
the term defect theorists, has asserted that etiology
does not matter, that all children with mental retardation
suffer from organic defects. These researchers have gen-
erally compared their children with mental retardation to
typically developing children of the same chronological
age. An entire research tradition has shown that, relative
to typically developing children, numerous aspects of
cognition and language are deficient in children with
mental retardation (e.g., Ellis & Cavalier, 1982).
In contrast, developmentally oriented researchers have
generally favored comparisons to typically developing
children of the same mental ages. These researchers have
considered it a given that children with mental retarda-
tion perform worse than chronological age matches on
virtually every cognitive task. Instead, they see their
job as one of determining whether these children show
specific areas of relative strength or weakness. Or, as
Cicchetti and Pogge-Hesse (1982, p. 279; emphasis in
original) aver, children with mental retardation function
below children of the same chronological age in most
areas of cognition, but the important and challenging re-
search questions concern the developmental processes.
Such processes can be determined only by using mental
age-matched typically developing controls, thereby show-
ing which areas are more or less affected.
Contrast Groups in Etiology-Based Research
With the rise of etiology-based research, specifying the
appropriate control-contrast groups has become more
complex. We present six research approaches, organized
around three research questions, that have been com-
monly used in etiology-based behavioral research (Ho-
dapp & Dykens, 2001; see Table 12.3).
Do Children Show an Etiology-Related Profile?
Recall that children with Williams syndrome show rela-
tive strengths in language and weaknesses in visuospa-
tial skills; that children with Prader-Willi syndrome
show strengths in simultaneous processing (particularly
Figure 12.2 Percentage of articles, by type, in the Ameri-
can Journal on Mental Retardation, 19751980, 19851990,
and 19952000. Source: From Behavioral Phenotypes:
Going beyond the Two-Group Approach, by R. M. Hodapp,
2004a, International Review of Research in Mental Retarda-
tion, 29, pp. 130. Reprinted with permission from Elsevier.
1970s
100%
80%
60%
40%
20%
0%
1980s 1990s
Mixed
Organic
Research Issues 479
TABLE 12.3 Strengths and Weaknesses of Some Common Etiology-Based Research Approaches
Control Group Characteristics Strengths and Weaknesses
Strategies to Determine Whether a Specific Disorder Has Strengths/ Weaknesses
1. None Performance
against self
Shows etiology strength.
2. Typical Equated on MA
Equated on CA
Shows relative strength (versus MA) or intact functioning (versus CA); unclear if
profile is unique, partially shared, or similar to all persons with MR.
3. Mixed MR Mixed causes of MR Shows that etiology strength/weakness is not due to MR. Control group changes
across studies; mixed nonspecific.
4. Down syndrome Down syndrome Shows behavior not due to any syndrome, but DS has its own behavioral
characteristics (may lead to inaccurate conclusions if DS = all MR).
5. Same-but-different MR Etiology similar in
behavior to group
Highlights fine-grained differences in behavior if two or more etiologies have
similar behaviors to make contrast meaningful.
6. Special non-MR Group with special
behavior
Shows ways that etiology is similar to or different from (nonretarded) group with
special problem or profile.
Strategies to Determine Whether Behavioral Characteristics Dif fer from Others with Mental Retardation
Strategies to Further Delineate Etiology-Specific Behaviors
Source: From Strengthening Behavioral Research on Genetic Mental Retardation Disorders, by R. M. Hodapp and E. M. Dykens, 2001,
American Journal on Mental Retardation, 106, pp. 415. Reprinted with permission.
in putting together jigsaw puzzles); and that children
with Down syndrome show relative weaknesses in lin-
guistic grammar. The word relative relates to the
childs overall mental age; a relative strength denotes
that children of a particular etiology perform signifi-
cantly above mental age levels, a relative weakness de-
notes that group performance is below overall mental
age levels.
Given this interest in relative strengths and weak-
nesses, a first, commonly used strategy is to have no
control or contrast group. To determine whether chil-
dren with Williams syndrome show strengths in lan-
guage versus visuospatial processing, Bellugi et al.
(1999) compared each childs functioning on a language
domain to that same childs performance on another do-
main. Similarly, we have found simultaneous processing
strengths in boys with fragile X syndrome (Dykens, Ho-
dapp, & Leckman, 1987) and in children with Prader-
Willi syndrome (Dykens et al., 1992) by comparing each
childs performance on domains of Simultaneous Pro-
cessing versus Sequential Processing on the Kaufman
Assessment Battery for Children (Kaufman & Kaufman,
1983). In Down syndrome, higher-level performance has
been shown on tasks involving visual (as opposed to
auditory) short-term memory (Hodapp et al., 1999;
Pueschel et al., 1987). Children thus become their own
controls, as their functioning levels in one domain are
compared to more general, overall functioning levels.
Although widely used, this self-as-control technique
has several limitations. Technically, one can compare
the persons performance only on one versus another
domain on the same test. Different tests are standard-
ized on different samples, and intelligence test scores
tend to increase from decade to decade (the so-called
Flynn effect; Flynn, 1999). At the very least, one should
stick to different domains of the same test.
Another problem involves the existence of appropri-
ate psychometric instruments. In areas such as IQ,
adaptive behavior, and language functioning, many well-
normed, standardized tests exist. Such tests easily lend
themselves to comparisons between a single subtest and
the overall age-equivalent score. But in other areas, few
good tests exist. Such is the case for developmentally in-
teresting areas such as emotional development, self-
image, theory of mind, and empathy. In areas for which
no psychometrically sound measures exist, researchers
cannot use children with a specific etiology as their own
control.
A second technique also attempts to answer the rela-
tive strength or weakness question. Here the researcher
compares persons with mental retardation to typically
developing children of the same mental age (mental age
matches). Depending on the question of interest, the
comparison might more generally be thought of as com-
paring the child with mental retardation to typical chil-
dren of similar functioning levels. To determine areas of
480 Mental Retardation
adaptive strength or weakness, one might compare chil-
dren with Down syndrome to typically developing chil-
dren using the Vineland Adaptive Behavior Scales; to
determine whether specific aspects of language are rel-
ative strengths (a major issue in current Williams syn-
drome work), one might match on the childs MLU to
examine aspects of pragmatics or semantics. In each
case, the researcher compares children with a particular
genetic syndrome to typically developing children of
identical age-equivalent performance.
Given our knowledge of etiology-based strengths and
weaknesses, it is also important to sometimes use
chronological age matches. Specifically, when certain
etiological groups perform above mental age matches,
one has evidence that the group shows a relative
strength in that area of behavior. But it is only in com-
parison to typically developing children of similar
chronological ages that one can determine if certain
groups are spared in their functioning in a behavioral
domain. The best example involves Williams syndrome,
long thought to be spared in certain areas of language.
To determine whether language in Williams syndrome
is indeed spared, a typical, chronological age-matched
group is needed. Although sparing now seems unlikely
for groups (as opposed to for a few individuals) with
Williams syndrome (Karmiloff-Smith et al., 1996;
Mervis et al., 1999), the test for spared functioning in-
volves comparing to typically developing age-mates
either explicitly (using a typical chronological age-
matched group) or implicitly (using standard scores
from a standardization sample).
Finally, showing that a particular etiological group
has a specific strength or weakness does not, by itself,
show that such a profile is unique to one etiological
group, is shared with several other etiologies, or is
something that occurs in most children with mental re-
tardation. Instead, all (or most) persons with mental re-
tardation may show a particular pattern of cognitive,
linguistic, adaptive, or other strengths and weaknesses.
If so, then lowered intellectual abilities are the problem,
and the profile is not etiology-related. Such conclusions
require our second set of specific research techniques,
to which we now turn.
Are Such Profiles Seen in Children with Mental
Retardation More Generally? As Table 12.3 shows,
this second general research question also features two
often-used techniques. In the first, researchers compare
persons with a particular mental retardation syndrome
to a mixed or nonspecific group who are equated on both
mental age and chronological age. If behavioral pheno-
types do indeed involve the heightened probability or
likelihood that people with a given syndrome will ex-
hibit certain behavioral and developmental sequelae rel-
ative to those without the syndrome (Dykens, 1995,
p. 523), such a mixed or heterogeneous group best ap-
proximates those without the syndrome.
As before, several issues arise. The first concerns the
proper mixture of the mixed group, and how to ensure
that ones sample does indeed approximate the larger re-
tarded population. Unfortunately, in contrast to our
knowledge about many psychiatric disorders, the field of
mental retardation has performed few such epidemiolog-
ical studies. Among all persons with mental retardation,
what percentage has Down syndrome? Or Prader-Willi
syndrome? At present, we do not have precise answers.
A second technique in this class compares one etio-
logical group against children with Down syndrome. Al-
though groups with Down syndrome are often used as a
mentally retarded control group, we consider this
strategy to be inappropriate. As a group, persons with
Down syndrome show relative weaknesses in grammar
(Fowler, 1990) and in expressive language (Miller,
1999); most persons with Down syndrome also show ar-
ticulation problems (Kumin, 1994). Compared to others
with mental retardation, children with Down syndrome
more often show sociable behaviors such as more
looking and smiling at others (Kasari & Freeman, 2001;
Kasari, Freeman, Mundy, & Sigman, 1995). So, too, may
these children show psychopathology less often and less
severely than others with mental retardation (Dykens &
Kasari, 1997; Meyers & Pueschel, 1991). Especially in
studies involving language, social skills, or maladaptive
behavior-psychopathology, using samples with Down
syndrome as a control group seems ill advised.
How Do Children in a Specific Etiological Group
Compare to Nonretarded Persons with Similar Con-
ditions or Behaviors? This final approach compares
persons who have a genetic syndrome to specialized
nonretarded persons in an area of specific interest. Here
again, the general approach can be seen through the use
of two specific research techniques. In the first, persons
with a particular syndrome are compared to nonretarded
persons with a diagnosed psychiatric disorder. Dykens
et al. (1996) compared persons with Prader-Willi syn-
drome to nonretarded outpatients with obsessive-
compulsive disorder. With very few exceptions, the two
groups were very similar in their mean number and
severity of compulsions and in percentages within each
Research Issues 481
group displaying most behaviors (e.g., cleaning, order-
ing/arranging, repeating rituals).
Such a specialized-group strategy can also be shown
in a second technique, this one comparing to nonre-
tarded persons who show particular cognitive-linguistic
profiles. How, for example, might children with Prader-
Willi syndromewho show simultaneous over sequen-
tial processing abilitiescompare to nonretarded
persons who similarly show such simultaneous advan-
tages? How do children with Prader-Willi syndrome
compare to typically developing children who are good
puzzlers? Are the two groups approaching problems in
the same way? In many ways, this final research strat-
egy best approaches Cicchetti and Pogge-Hesses
(1982) call for research that examines developmental
processes in children with mental retardation.
The single drawback is that, by using specialized non-
retarded groups, one risks designing a no-difference
study, a study in which the two groups do not show sig-
nificant differences. For instance, when compared to
typical children who are also high on simultaneous
processing or on jigsaw puzzle abilities, children with
Prader-Willi syndrome may look identical. Though inter-
esting theoretically, no-difference findings are always
more problematic statistically.
Comparisons in Studies of Families and Ecologies
In discussing control-contrast groups involving families
and other ecologies, different issues arise. In fact, most
studies compare families of children with mental retar-
dation to families of typically developing children of the
same chronological, not mental, age. The reasoning
here involves family life cycles. Carter and McGoldrick
(1988) identify six stages of family life, beginning with
the young adults leaving home, then getting married,
having young children, then seeing those children
through adolescence, launching those children into adult
life, and, finally, accepting shifting generational roles,
as when children begin to take care of their parents. This
type of stage theory also conceptualizes the family as
multigenerational, with shifting roles and responsibili-
ties for each member. Each person adopts different roles
depending on which family member is the focus, with
parents themselves leaving home at earlier ages, becom-
ing grandparents many years later.
Like all theories of adult development, Carter and
McGoldricks (1988) stages might be better conceptual-
ized as general guidelines. Still, these stages do make
salient that parents of different-age children have differ-
ent concerns. Parents worried about their 2-week-old
infants eating, sleeping, and physical development differ
greatly from parents concerned about their 16-year-olds
new peers and developing sexuality. Such parent-family
differences based on the childs chronological age are
behind the decision to compare families of children with
mental retardation to families of same-age typically de-
veloping children (Seltzer & Ryff, 1994). Mental-age
comparisons seem most appropriate when considering
children with mental retardation, chronological age com-
parisons when considering their families.
And how should one approach parent-child interac-
tions? As noted earlier, early studies examined parental
(mainly maternal) behaviors toward children of the
same chronological age as typically developing chil-
dren. In some studies, it was even strongly hinted that
mothers were deficient in their input to their children,
as they were speaking at lower levels than were mothers
of typically developing children. Beginning with Ron-
dal (1977), groups came to be equated more on age-
equivalent scores, and the use of either mental age or
language age comparisons has predominated over the
past few decades.
As we gain in our knowledge of children with differ-
ent types of mental retardation, such issues become
even trickier. Consider the finding that children with
Williams syndrome show relative strengths in language
(compared to overall levels of mental age), or that chil-
dren with Prader-Willi syndrome show excellent per-
formanceeven above typical children of identical
chronological ageon jigsaw puzzles. What is the ap-
propriate maternal input relative to these tasks?
One suggestion is that children with different genetic
mental retardation syndromes might be used as proxies
for particular emotional-behavioral problems, personali-
ties, or skill levels on specific tasks (Hodapp, 2004b).
In such analyses, one might use children with Down
syndrome as a proxy for a sociable, upbeat personality.
Conversely, one might use children with Prader-Willi
syndrome versus with Williams syndrome as good
versus poor jigsaw puzzlers, respectively. Other syn-
dromes might also be used as proxies for one or another
etiology-related behavior. One could then ask whether
parents or others react similarly or differently to nonre-
tarded children who have similar problems, personalities,
or high or low skills on a specific task.
Granted, one must be careful in performing this type
of analysis, as a single etiology often predisposes individ-
uals to multiple behavioral characteristics. Children with
Prader-Willi syndrome are excellent at putting together
482 Mental Retardation
jigsaw puzzles, but, in other contexts, such children
might be thought of as proxies for children with extreme
eating problems and obesity, or children with obsessive-
compulsive disorder. Other genetic syndromes can simi-
larly be considered to have more than one behavioral
outcome, and reactions or interactive behaviors might
also differ based on the interactor or the task.
Using genetic disorders as behavioral proxies extends
the many applied developmental studies on so-called
natural experiments. In each of these studies, one must
essentially disentangle several factors. Consider Rut-
ters (Rutter, Pickles, Murray, & Eaves, 2001) work on
psychiatric risks of such events-situations as maternal
deprivation, early institutionalization, being a twin, or
being adopted. In each case, the question is not only
whether one or another of these situations increases the
risks of psychiatric problems, but why.
Direction of Effects, Mediators-Moderators,
and Associated Variables
Similar to Bells (1968) original question many years
ago, the direction of effects remains unclear in many
studies of mother-child interaction and of family child
relations. Does the mother influence the child, or the
child the mother?
Under different circumstances, both directions seem
to be operating. In a study examining children with men-
tal retardation when children were 3, 7, and 11 years
old, Keogh, Garnier, Bernheimer, and Gallimore (2000)
found that the more likely direction of effects was from
child to parent. In path analyses, the childs higher levels
of behavior problems, greater degrees of cognitive im-
pairment, and lower levels of personal-social compe-
tence affected parent and family adaptation. In contrast,
parental changes and accommodations of the family rou-
tine usually did not influence later child behaviors.
From the other direction, parents and families may
also influence children. Harris et al. (1996) found that
mothers who more often followed the childs lead and
prolonged joint attention episodes produced young
children with Down syndrome whose language devel-
oped at a faster rate. Conversely, when mothers more
often redirected the childs focus of attention and en-
gaged in greater numbers of separate joint-attention
episodes, children showed smaller gains in receptive
language skills. Using hierarchical linear modeling to
examine changes over the childs first 5 years of life,
Hauser-Cram et al. (1999) found that more cohesive
families and mothers who more sensitively interacted
with their children produced children with Down syn-
drome who showed greater amounts of development on
the adaptive behavior domains of communication, daily
living skills, and socialization. Depending on the study,
then, children may influence parents or parents may in-
fluence children.
In considering these studies, one begins to appreciate
just how rare are good, longitudinal studies of children
with mental retardation and their parents, families,
schools, and other surrounding environments. Even
fewer studies examine mediators or moderators of devel-
opmental change, and little of what we know about lon-
gitudinal effects, mediators, or moderators has been
examined in children with different genetic syndromes
and their parents, families, or larger environments.
Finally, certain methodological issues pertain only to
children with different genetic syndromes and their
families. Consider so-called associated variables, those
variables that go together with different syndromes but
that are separate from the childs behavior per se. The
best examples involve Down syndrome. In contrast to
other syndromes or to mental retardation in general,
Down syndrome is a widely known disorder, occurs
more often in births to older mothers, is usually diag-
nosed at birth, and is fairly common. Parents have ac-
cess to several well-known, active, and powerful parent
groups, as well as books, articles, Web sites, and other
informational supports.
One might be tempted to attribute all differences in
parents or families of children with versus without
Down syndrome to such associated characteristics. Al-
though such differences exist between Down syndrome
and other disabilities, they probably do not totally ac-
count for the Down syndrome advantage. Moreover, as-
sociated characteristics cannot account for changes with
age in parent or family stress or perceptions of their
children (Hodapp et al., 2003), or the connections be-
tween the childs personality and parental attributions
(Ly & Hodapp, 2002). We currently know little about
formal and informal supports vis--vis parents and fam-
ilies of children with different genetic mental retarda-
tion syndromes.
Summary
Mental retardation research has gaps that both include
and transcend those found in studies of child develop-
ment and applied child development. In one sense, stud-
ies on children with mental retardation mirror gaps
found in studies of typically developing children. We
Making the Leap from Knowledge to Practice 483
need more studies that are longitudinal, that look at
moderators and mediators, that worry more about direc-
tion of effects, and that use more sophisticated statisti-
cal techniques.
Yet in other ways, research issues in mental retarda-
tion are specific to this population. Research on few
other populations seems to have as much trouble in de-
ciding how research groups should best be divided. Few
feature as many as six or seven strategies concerning
control or contrast groups. Similarly, few nowadays gen-
erally compare to typical children of the same mental
age when examining childrens functioning, but of the
same chronological age when family functioning is the
issue. Few fields struggle as mightily with what (if any-
thing) their populations findings tell us about the typi-
cal or normative processes of childrens development, or
of the typical or usual reactions and behaviors of parents
and families.
MAKING THE LEAP FROM KNOWLEDGE
TO PRACTICE
Like the field of child development itself (Sears, 1975),
mental retardation behavioral researchers have histori-
cally valued applied work, and basic and applied inter-
ests have existed side-by-side in the mental retardation
field (Hodapp, 2003). Even the most basic of re-
searchers strive, through their findings, to allow chil-
dren with mental retardation to develop more optimally,
to develop faster in one or another area of functioning,
to avoid maladaptive behaviors that make everyday liv-
ing more difficult. Similarly, those interested in parent-
child interaction, families, schools, and neighborhoods
desire to improve the developmental ecologies of chil-
dren with mental retardation.
And yet, although basic and applied interests coexist
in the mental retardation field, basic research findings
have not always been easily translated into more sophis-
ticated, appropriate interventions. This basic-to-applied
gap may simply reflect the fact that, as a field, we know
too little. But other issues relate to societal changes,
mixing generic and specialized approaches, noncategor-
ical philosophies, and cross-level and interdisciplinary
issues. Before describing interventions, then, we first
turn to each of these matters.
A Changing Society and a Changing Population
Both philosophically and demographically, American
society is changing. Philosophically, over the past few
decades Americans have increasingly come to accept the
full participation in society of individuals with disabili-
ties. Such societal changes have been embodied in a se-
ries of legal and legislative changes that have come to be
referred to as the disabilities movement. This movement
followed the civil rights and womens movements in de-
manding full participation of all individuals in school, at
work, in the community, and in the law. Major successes
include the Education for All Handicapped Children
Act, or Public Law 94-142, in 1975, and the Americans
with Disabilities Act of 1990, which ensured full access
in employment. Each act has codified into law that it is a
rightnot a privilegefor individuals with disabilities
to take their full place in American society.
In addition to such societal changes, changes are also
occurring in the American population itself. Not so
many years ago, the United States could more or less ac-
curately be considered a country in which the usual
family was White and middle class, with two parents,
one of whom worked outside (usually the father) and the
other inside (usually the mother) of the family home.
But in recent years, an increasing percentage of the
American population has become non-White, most fam-
ilies (including many with young children) have mothers
who work outside the family home, and divorced, single,
and unmarried parents are all increasingly common.
Each issue obviously affects children with mental retar-
dation and their families, although service, research,
and policy practices have all yet to catch up.
Consider the impact of another demographic change:
the aging of the American population. Demographers
note that the American population has gotten increas-
ingly older over the past few decades; the median age of
Americans rose from 26.5 years in 1930 to 35.3 years in
2000. In only a few years time, the leading edge of the
Baby Boomers (i.e., those born between 1946 and 1964)
will begin retiring. Medicare payments will rise expo-
nentially, health systems will face increased stressors,
and few politicians have either the foresight or the
courage to address such issues.
A corollary concerns the aging of the population with
disabilities. Currently in the United States, 526,000
adults with disabilities are 60 years or older, and that
number is expected to tripleto over 1.5 millionby
2030 (National Center for Family Support, 2000). Given
that at least 60% of these adults live at home and are
now cared for by aging parents, who will care for these
adults with disabilities when their parents die or are no
longer able to care for them? The adult siblings of adults
with disabilities are the assumed future caregivers, but
484 Mental Retardation
the needs of adult siblingsand all issues relating to
life-span developmenthave so far remained almost to-
tally unexamined in the mental retardation field.
Generic and Specialized Issues
When considering interventions for children with men-
tal retardation and their families, one must think in
terms of three separate levels. First, certain programs
and services are needed by everyone. All children re-
quire caregiving, adequate food and shelter, safe neigh-
borhoods, decent schools, and affordable health care.
Such services might be considered common needs of all
children and their families.
A second level of services is general to all children
with mental retardation and their families. Again, such
services and interventions are mostly generic: early in-
tervention programs, special education services, transi-
tion, family support, and adult services relating to the
adults working and living in the community. Such inter-
ventions apply to all children with mental retardation, as
well as to children with any disabling condition (deaf-
ness, blindness, motor, or emotional problems).
A final set of services and interventions are specific
to children with specialized needs. Some children
with mental retardation have specialized health care
needs, often relating to heart problems or motor impair-
ments. Although estimates vary, approximately
1
4 to
1
3
of children with mental retardation also show signifi-
cant psychiatric impairment (Bouras, 1999; Dykens,
2000; Tonge & Einfeld, 2003).
Many of these health and psychiatric concerns also
relate to specific etiological groups. Many children with
Down syndrome show heart and respiratory problems,as
well as higher prevalence rates of leukemia and (in early
mid-adulthood) Alzheimers disease (Leshin, 2002;
Pueschel, 1990). Children with Prader-Willi syndrome
are prone to obsessive-compulsive disorder (Dykens
et al., 1996), those with Williams syndrome to clinically
high levels of anxiety and fears (Dykens, 2003).
Etiology-based interventions might address such health,
psychiatric, and cognitive-linguistic concerns.
Obviously, each type of intervention is necessary, but
the three types of intervention also mutually influence
one another. Consider the connections between special-
ized health or habilitative services and services to help
families survive economically. Birenbaum and Cohen
(1993) note that families of children with more severe
impairments often have associated expenses that, in
most cases, these families must pay for themselves.
Compared to average health care costs of less than
$1,000 per year for all American children, Birenbaum
and Cohens families spent an average of $4,000 a year
on health care for their children with severe or profound
mental retardation. For about 10% of these families,
costs of home or car modifications for their children ex-
ceeded $2,000 per year. Such expenses, while unknown
to parents of typically developing children, are common-
place to parents of children with mental retardation
(particularly those at severe or profound levels). Al-
though Medicaid and state-run cash assistance programs
can sometimes offset these costs (Agosta, 1989; Agosta
& Melda, 1995), issues of shelter, safety, and well-being
are not necessarily separate from intervention discus-
sions within the mental retardation field.
Noncategorical Philosophies
Noncategorical programming refers to the intervention
practice of considering together children with many dif-
ferent disabilities (Reynolds, 1990). Most prominent in
the field of special education, the idea is that a category,
or label, is rarely helpful in the educational process
and that different types of children can therefore be
educated together. Even if several disabilities do benefit
from distinct educational approaches, Forness and
Kavale (1994) contend that we could eventually reach
the unwieldy situation of many groups requiring their
own, specialized classrooms. Such a Balkanization of
special education services would cause administrative
nightmares for schools, teachers, and districts.
Although sympathetic to potential adverse effects of
labeling or a Balkanization of special education, we nev-
ertheless feel that certain labels, or genetic diagnoses,
may matter. If children show etiology-related profiles of
development, personalities, and maladaptive behavior or
psychopathology, it seems possible to design interven-
tions that might capitalize on such etiology-based infor-
mation. To us, the noncategorical philosophy ignores the
many etiology-related behavioral findings that have ap-
peared over the past 10 to 15 years. Whether categories
are beneficial should be an empirical issue, not one de-
cided on the assertion that labels do not matter.
Cross-Level and Cross-Disciplinary Matters
A final issue relates to cross-level and cross-disciplinary
matters. Table 12.4 gives a partial listing of several dis-
Making the Leap from Knowledge to Practice 485
TABLE 12.4 Professions Associated with Dif ferent Syndromes of Mental Retardation
Profession Syndrome Issues
Pediatrics All Various pediatric concerns, some specific to particular syndromes.
Genetics FX, PWS Number of repeats and methylation status (FX); deletion-disomy (PWS).
Nutrition PWS, DS Weight control in PWS and DS; weight reduction in life-threatening cases.
Dentistry WS, PWS, DS Dental crowding, caries, saliva, and other issues.
Occupational and Physical Therapy DS, WS, PWS Joint stability and f lexibility; help in fine- and gross-motor
functioning; mobility, balance, movement.
Speech-Language Pathology DS Grammar and articulation.
Social Work All Mother, father, sibling, and family issues; help in dealing with state
social service agencies, thinking and planning about future.
Genetics Counseling DS, FX, other Family risk assessment due to parent age, family history, or other.
Child Psychiatry and Clinical Psychology WS, PWS, FX, Rett Anxiety (WS), obsessive-compulsive disorder (PWS), autism or
autistic-like behaviors (FX, Rett ).
Psychopharmacology PWS, WS Pharmacological treatments for any maladaptive behavior or
psychopathology.
Neurosciences All Brain-behavior connections involving brain regions, structures,
interconnections, and development.
DS = Down syndrome; FX = Fragile X syndrome; PWS = Prader-Willi syndrome; Rett = Rett syndrome; WS = Williams syndrome.
ciplines interested in children with mental retardation.
Although we present professions that deal with children
with specific genetic disorders, an equally impressive
list of professions and interests could be developed for
children with mental retardation in general.
Although impressive in its numbers of disciplines,
this list also highlights that mental retardation is not
owned by any single discipline. Unlike, say, obsessive-
compulsive disorder or depression, which are considered
to fall mainly within the purview of mental health pro-
fessionals, children with mental retardation are not pre-
dominantly the concern of child psychiatrists and
clinical psychologists. Depending on the specific issues
involved, many different professionals help persons with
mental retardation. Some might even consider this large
list a curse; unlike other disorders, mental retardation
has no single professional group that is mostly or totally
responsible or interested.
A related issue arises in research. To truly under-
stand children with mental retardation, one needs to be
comfortable working in an interdisciplinary fashion. But
such collaborations are difficult. Consider even the
problem of terminology. To geneticists, each of the fol-
lowing are common terms: cytogenetics and molecular
genetics; imprinting; alleles; full versus partial muta-
tion; deletion, disomy, and amplification; and trisomy,
translocation, and mosaicism. Many subbranches of de-
velopmental psychology have equally strange-seeming
terms and interests, and it is difficult to explain enough
of what one does to professionals from different disci-
plines to achieve some common understandings. But if
we are ever to reach sophisticated understandings of be-
havioral development in many types of mental retarda-
tion, it seems essential to navigate such cross-cultural
disciplinary divides.
Some Examples of Interventions
In the pages that follow, we provide examples of educa-
tional, clinical, and family-based interventions.
Educational Interventions: Reading Instruction
for Children with Down Syndrome
Children with Down syndrome show relative weak-
nesses in grammar, expressive language, and articula-
tion. Conversely, these children show relative strengths
in visual (as opposed to auditory) short-term memory.
Using these findings, as well as several decades of in-
tervention work, Buckley and her colleagues (Buckley &
Bird, 2002) have long advocated teaching reading to
these children. So far, the findings are mixed. On one
hand, many children can establish reading vocabularies
of numerous sight words, even during the preschool
years (Buckley, 1995). Half of all children and adoles-
cents may be able to read more than 50 words, with some
reaching much higher levels (Buckley, Bird, & Byrne,
1996; Johansson, 1993).
486 Mental Retardation
In addition, reading may constitute an entryway into
other areas of language. Laws, Buckley, Bird, MacDon-
ald, and Broadley (1995) compared children with Down
syndrome who were readers with those who were not.
Over a 4-year span, readers were ahead of nonreaders
on tests of receptive vocabulary, receptive grammar,
auditory memory, and visual memory. For many mea-
sures, an interaction also occurred between receiving
reading instruction and developmental changes from
time 1 to time 2.
On the other hand, questions persist concerning the
degree to which children with Down syndrome have or
can acquire readings component skills. Essentially, lit-
eracy intervention capitalizes on the relative strength
of visual short-term memory for most children with
Down syndrome. But reading is more than a visual skill;
higher levels of reading can come about only when one
attains various aspects of phonemic awareness. Through
their ability to segment, delete, and count phonemes,
children become able to identify and manipulate
phonemes (Gombert, 2002). In typical children, pho-
netic decoding is a strong predictor of both first- and
third-grade reading skills (McGuinness, 1997); levels of
phonological awareness and reading also correlate in
children with Down syndrome (Fowler, Doherty, &
Boynton, 1995; Laws, 1998).
How good are children with Down syndrome at
phonological awareness and, if not so good, can they read
in some other way? In three studies, Snowling, Hulme,
and Mercer (2002) compared typical children to children
with Down syndrome on segmentation, nursery rhyme
knowledge, rhyme detection, and phoneme detection.
They also examined letter names and sounds, print in the
daily environment, single-word reading, and nonword
reading. Predictors of reading ability were different for
the two groups. Although children with Down syndrome
with good phonological skills were better readers than
those with poorer skills, their letter-sound knowledge
was not a concurrent predictor of reading performance.
Children with Down syndrome performed worse than
control children on rhyme judgment. Other studies have
also documented deficits in specific phonemic aware-
ness tasks by children with Down syndrome (Cardoso-
Martins, Michalick, & Pollo, 2002; Gompert, 2002).
Compared to typical children, then, children with
Down syndrome may follow a qualitatively different
path in their development of reading and phonological
skills. Children with Down syndrome identify initial
syllable and onset phonemes, but have more difficulty
with rhyme (rhyme deficit ). Letter-sound knowl-
edge does not appear related to reading and/or phono-
logical skills. Children with Down syndrome are
therefore reading without the full understanding of all
aspects of phonemic awareness. They use grapheme-
phoneme strategies to some extent, but are also access-
ing such other strategies as whole-word recognition.
A related issue concerns whether developing literacy
skills might constitute an entryway into language. Al-
though several researchers have suggested that reading
is the visual route to improved spoken language, longi-
tudinal research does not support this relationship. In a
5-year longitudinal study of 30 individuals with Down
syndrome on language, memory, and reading, Laws and
Gunn (2002) found that readers performed better on
language and nonverbal ability measures at both assess-
ments. There were no significant interactions, however,
between reading progress and progress in memory or
language. Similarly, no interaction was found between
reading skills (or progress) and developments in expres-
sive language. In contrast to earlier formulations, in
Down syndrome the direction of effects seems to be
language to readinglanguage abilities influence read-
ing acquisitionas opposed to reading influencing lan-
guage acquisition.
Reading instruction for children with Down syndrome
thus remains intriguing but in need of further study. We
need to know more about how children with Down syn-
drome read, and whether their reading processes are the
same as or different from those used by typically devel-
oping children. Given such knowledge, we then need to
know which strategies might work best for children with
Down syndrome who are beginning to read.
Interventions for Maladaptive
Behavior-Psychopathology
As noted earlier, as many as
1
4 to
1
3 of children with
mental retardation also show associated maladaptive
behavior-psychopathology, and several different genetic
syndromes seem predisposed to specific types of psycho-
pathology. In response to the need for clinical, pharmaco-
logical, and other interventions, several etiology-based
clinical services have arisen for children with specific
types of mental retardation and their families.
University-Based Behavior Genetics Clinic. One
example is the UCLA-Lili Claire Behavior Genetics
Clinic at UCLAs Neuropsychiatric Institute. The clinic,
which meets one morning per week, was founded in
Making the Leap from Knowledge to Practice 487
1996. Its original focus was to serve the mental health
and dietary needs of children and young adults with
Prader-Willi syndrome. Since that time, the clinic has
also served children with Down syndrome, Williams
syndrome, and other genetic disorders, as well as these
childrens family members, teachers, group home work-
ers, and others involved in the childs life.
Although housed in child psychiatry and focused
mainly on the management of maladaptive behaviors,
the clinics focus is interdisciplinary. Children and fam-
ilies come for an initial 1- to 2-hour visit with a child
psychiatrist, child clinical psychologist, social worker,
and special educator. Given the dietary issues in Prader-
Willi syndrome, a licensed nutritionist is also often on
hand, and consultations are common to (and from) clini-
cal genetics, pediatrics, cardiology, speech-language
pathology, and other disciplines. The clinics medical
director has long experience in prescribing drugs to chil-
dren and adults with mental retardation (and with these
syndromes).
In their initial visit and in follow-ups every few
months, the children, parents, and others receive nu-
merous, interrelated services. The social worker helps
navigate the social service system and brings along in-
formation about specific syndromes and parent support
groups. The social worker and special educator advo-
cate for the children and their families with the school
and with state social service agencies, and the clinical
psychologist and child psychiatrist assess child and
family needs and strengths. Working together, clinic
personnel offer parents with several different disorders
practical advice and follow-up, knowledge and contact
information about the syndrome, behavioral and phar-
macological interventions, and other help as needed.
Behavior Analysis. A second intervention is more
strictly behavior-analytic in orientation, successor to an
approach that was earlier referred to as behavior modi-
fication. This approach has been extremely helpful to
children with mental retardation and their parents in
three distinct ways.
First, behavior analysis has been remarkably suc-
cessful in teaching adaptive skills to children and ado-
lescents with mental retardation, many at the more
severe to profound levels. Such behaviors as grooming,
toileting, eating, and dressing have all been taught to in-
dividuals at the profound and severe levels of mental re-
tardation (Carr et al., 1999). At later ages, techniques
such as task analysis and token economies have allowed
many persons with mental retardation to work success-
fully in supported work environments (Wehman, Sale,
& Parent, 1992). Again, such direct, labor-intensive in-
terventions have allowed these individuals to achieve
skills and produce in jobs that were previously beyond
their reach.
Second, behavioral techniques have been helpful for
parents. Parents of very impaired or difficult-to-control
children are often at a loss as to how to proceed. Such
parents are helped by the behavior analysts specific be-
havioral interventions and charting of the environmental
precursors of child behavior (and of the consequences of
different parent behaviors). Parents have been taught
how to model desired behaviors, break down complex
tasks into smaller components, and chain together these
components (Baker & Brightman, 1997).
Third, behavior analyses have been particularly
helpful in eliminating maladaptive behaviors. Al-
though maladaptive behavior-psychopathology is espe-
cially prevalent in children with mental retardation, the
childrens inability to use language to describe their
feelings and needs often makes talk therapies less
effective. In contrast, behavior-analytic techniques
generally do not require high levels of communication
from the client being treated.
Although many examples could be cited of successful
behaviorally oriented treatments, one will suffice. Craig
Kennedy has recently begun the Vanderbilt Kennedy
Center Behavior Analysis Clinic to intervene with chil-
dren and young adults who show severe aggressive be-
haviors. In their model, aggression is considered a form
of communication that the aggressive person is giving to
the outside world. The clinician must first decipher the
exact communicative functions of the individuals ag-
gressive acts, and then institute therapies that might
eliminate such aggressive behaviors (Kennedy, 2003).
Two advances distinguish the Vanderbilt Kennedy
Center Behavior Analysis Clinic from other interven-
tions with a similar philosophy. First, in a clinical
sense, the interventions are provided to the clients, but
parents and group home workers are then taught how to
continue these interventions in the community. This
newly begun clinic is thus combining interventions
with parent training. Second, the Vanderbilt group is
also interested in the so-called setting conditions of ag-
gressive behaviors. In a series of studies, Kennedy and
his colleagues have begun to examine the possibility
that such child characteristics as sleep deprivation
(Harvey & Kennedy, 2002) or genetic status ( having or
488 Mental Retardation
not having a genetic variant predisposing to aggression;
May, Potts, Phillips, Blakely, & Kennedy, 2004) might
make aggressive behaviors more likely. In essence,
behavior-analytic approaches, which began as predom-
inantly environmental in orientation, have begun to join
both environmental and child-related characteristics of
children showing aggressive behaviors.
Parent-Family Support Groups
Although many would not consider parent support
groups as an intervention per se, these groups have be-
come important, influential organizations for many par-
ents and families of children with mental retardation. In
addition, such groups range widely in their targeted pop-
ulation, their orientation, and their desired outcomes for
the many parents who participate (see Table 12.2).
Although research on parent support groups is only
beginning, preliminary findings are intriguing. In study-
ing groups for parents of children with disabilities,
Solomon, Pistrang, and Barker (2001) examined mem-
bers of the United Kingdoms Contact a Family, a group
whose aim was to encourage mutual support among fam-
ilies of children with disabilities. Examining 56 parents
of 9-year-old children with a wide variety of disabili-
ties, Solomon et al. discovered that parents (who, on av-
erage, had been in the group for 4 years) were very
satisfied with their groups, found them helpful, and
rated them high on group cohesion and task orientation.
Follow-up focus groups provide more detail about
how parents benefited from these groups in three broad
areas. First, parents felt that they achieved a sense of
control from the information gained from other group
members. As one parent noted, When you have a child
with special needs, you dont know the best services, the
best care, and so on. You get that information from the
group (Solomon et al., 2001, p. 121). Second, parents
felt a strong sense of belonging to a community. The au-
thors thus note, Parents reported feeling less alone,
less isolated, not the only one, not different any-
more, as a result of group membership (Solomon et al.,
2001, p. 123).
The third benefit of these parent self-help groups
seemed to relate to parents own emotional growth and
development. Solomon et al. (2001) write:
Parents most commonly said that they felt far more con-
fident when dealing with other people than they used to
before coming to their group: they were more assertive,
tougher, and felt less intimidated, inhibited, embar-
rassed, awkward, and shy. The group helped them to feel
refocused and strengthened. (p. 124)
Other, analogous studies are also instructive. In these
studies, parents and caregivers of persons with mental
illness, Alzheimers disease, or alcoholism all describe
the benefits and limitations of parent support groups.
Findings show that parents and families do benefit from
these groups, mainly from receiving information and
giving and receiving support. In addition, consumer-led
versus professional-led groups focus more on advocacy
than on emotional issues (Pickett, Heller, & Cook,
1998), and the two types of group differ greatly in cohe-
sion, leader activities, group structure and task orienta-
tion, and fostering independence in group members
(Toro, Rappaport, & Seidman, 1987).
Although much more research is needed, parent sup-
port groups seem an important ecology of families
of children with disabilities. As with other self-help
groups, the most effective groups probably involve high-
quality relationships, high expectations for personal
growth, and a moderate level of structure (Moos, 2003).
Although all such groups have both strengths and weak-
nesses, relatively cohesive, goal-directed, and well-
organized intervention programs and life contexts can
help distressed individuals recover and lead essentially
normal lives (p. 6).
CONCLUSION
Combining analyses of children and of their surrounding
environments, mixing basic research with applications
of that research, the mental retardation field seems al-
most the quintessential case of applied developmental
psychology. From earlier days to todays studies of cog-
nitive and language development, the specific issues
may have changed, but the basic approaches have re-
mained remarkably consistent. Such approaches can be
summarized through the use of four related themes.
Perspectives and Approaches of Developmental
Psychopathology
When most people think of developmental psychopathol-
ogy, they date its origin to the 1970s and 1980s.
In 1974, Thomas Achenbach published his landmark
work, Developmental Psychopathology. A few years
Conclusion 489
later, Cicchetti (1984) began writing about the larger ap-
proach of developmental psychopathology, in 1989
Cicchetti and Nurcombe founded the journal Develop-
ment and Psychopathology, and the nascent fields vari-
ous handbooks began appearing in the early to mid-1990s
(Cicchetti & Cohen, 1995; Lewis & Miller, 1990).
Although such recent inaugural dates may be accu-
rate for developmental psychopathology overall, devel-
opmental approaches to children with mental retardation
go back much further. Piaget, Werner, and Vygotsky all
examined children with mental retardation, and Ziglers
(1967) developmental approach to mental retardation
dates to the mid- to late 1960s. More important, devel-
opmentally oriented researchers conceptualized these
childrens development as informing us about typical
developmental processes. From the earliest days through
to todays studies of cognition, language, modularity,
and theory of mind, developmentally oriented re-
searchers have adopted Cicchettis (1984, p. 1) dictum
that we can learn more about the normal functioning of
an organism by studying its pathology, more about its
pathology by studying its normal condition.
The Changing Sense of Development
Particularly over the past few decades, the very meaning
of the word development has changed, both for those
studying typically developing children and for those
studying children with mental retardation. Within the
child development field more generally, interests in in-
teractions, transactions, and ecologies were propelled
by the researchers most tied to each term: Bell (1968),
Sameroff and Chandler (1975), and Bronfenbrenner
(1979), respectively. For the smaller field of mental
retardation, especially for those interested in develop-
mental issues of these children, the interactional, trans-
actional, and ecological movements in developmental
psychology proper have served as a point of reference, a
way to extend, apply, and test out our (expanded) notions
of development (Hodapp & Zigler, 1995).
As a result, developmental approaches to children
with mental retardation now easily include analyses of
mother-child interactions, parents, families, friends,
schools, and neighborhoods. Just as developmental psy-
chology now concerns itself with all things related to
children and childrens development, so, too, is a wider
view of childrens development now intrinsic to the men-
tal retardation field. Although neighborhoods, families,
siblings, and intersystem connections may be less well-
studied for children with mental retardation, develop-
mental analyses include each of these issues.
Similar but Different Concerns
and Complications
And yet, even as mental retardations developmental
studies simply apply and extend findings from typically
developing children, so, too, does this area have its own,
idiosyncratic issues and concerns. Consider the very
issue of how one defines mental retardation, or how one
classifies research groups within the population, or to
what extent one should examine children with specific
genetic syndromes. Each issue is specific to the mental
retardation field.
Similarly, when one considers the wider ecology,
mental retardation has its separable concerns. In mental
retardation, one must concern oneself with the wider
service-delivery systems and (at least implicitly) ac-
knowledge how that system has changed dramatically
over the years. Indeed, many studies in the 1950s and
1960s examined children with mental retardation who
resided in large public institutions; nowadays, such chil-
dren almost all live in their family home. Even today, al-
most every study in such journals as the American
Journal on Mental Retardation, Mental Retardation, and
the Journal of Intellectual Disability Research (the three
main research journals in the mental retardation field)
routinely note the types of classrooms their school-age
subjects are attending (specialized, mainstreamed, fully
integrated); such information is rarely provided for
school-age subjects of articles in journals such as Child
Development and Developmental Psychology.
Such field-specific issues also arise in separate, al-
most parallel histories and research concerns of particu-
lar issues in each field. For instance, the movement from
negative to stress-and-coping views of parents and fami-
lies of children with mental retardation has no counter-
part in the larger child development field. Few family
studies in child development need concern themselves
with the outside formal supports offered to their fami-
lies, or to the amount, costs, or availability of services
the child is receiving outside of school. Similarly, few
researchers of typically developing children need to
worry about mental age versus chronological age com-
parison groups, different comparison groups when deal-
ing with childrens development versus the functioning
490 Mental Retardation
of their parents, or how to best classify different chil-
dren with mental retardation. All are research issues
specific to the field of mental retardation.
Simultaneous Concern with Basic and
Applied Information
Still, if mental retardation research is the same but dif-
ferent relative to the wider child development field, it
nevertheless shares with child development its status as
a mixed discipline. Like researchers in mental retar-
dation, most child development researchers would argue
that their work has applied implications and that their
ultimate goal is not simply to understand the processes
of childrens development. Instead, most child develop-
ment researchers would argue that their goals include
using that knowledge to better educate children or to
foster childrens development. So, too, is the field of
mental retardation both basic and applied, simultane-
ously searching for information about the processes by
which these children develop and considering how such
basic information can be used to improve the lives of
children and their families.
Mental retardation, then, is one among many areas of
applied developmental psychology. Whether one is con-
sidering gene-brain-behavior relations, or mother-child
interactions, or how to use basic research to best educate
children, our respective concerns overlap greatly. Such
similar basic and applied concerns, such similar uses of
many disciplines to examine many domains of function-
ing, have remained constant over the years. One might
argue that, in many ways, we have not advanced much
from the days of Piaget, Werner, or Vygotsky. In the
spiral-staircase view of development, however, we argue
that, although we are in some ways at the same point, our
questions and answers have become increasingly spe-
cific, increasingly interesting, and increasingly helpful to
addressing a greater number of basic and applied issues.
May we continueeven increaseour joint efforts as we
further understand typical development and development
of children with mental retardation, this old and new
topic within the larger field of child development.
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497
CHAPTER 13
Developmental Psychopathology and
Preventive Intervention
DANTE CICCHETTI and SHEREE L. TOTH
PRINCIPLES OF DEVELOPMENTAL
PSYCHOPATHOLOGY AND IMPLICATIONS
FOR CLINICAL PRACTICE 497
Bridging Research and Practice 499
An Organizational Perspective: Implications for
Investigating the Nature of the Relation between
Normality and Psychopathology 501
CHILD MALTREATMENT 502
Definitional Considerations in Child Maltreatment 503
The Need for a Nosology of Child Maltreatment 504
The Effects of Maltreatment on the
Developmental Process 506
TRANSLATING MALTREATMENT RESEARCH
INTO PRACTICE: THE DEVELOPMENT
AND IMPLEMENTATION OF
PREVENTIVE INTERVENTIONS 516
Preventive Interventions for Maltreated Infants 516
Preventive Interventions for Maltreated Preschoolers 523
DEFINITIONAL AND EPIDEMIOLOGICAL
CONSIDERATIONS IN DEPRESSION 525
A Developmental Psychopathology Perspective on
Maternal Depression 526
The Development of an Attachment Relationship 528
The Development of the Self System 529
Preventive Interventions for Toddlers of
Depressed Mothers 531
CONCLUSION AND FUTURE PERSPECTIVE 537
REFERENCES 538
In this chapter, we focus on child maltreatment and the
offspring of a parent with a Major Depressive Disorder
as illustrative exemplars of how theory and research
guided by a developmental psychopathology perspective
can help to elucidate the etiology, course, and sequelae
of these high-risk conditions and to inform the imple-
mentation of preventive interventions. We also address
decision points and challenges that emerge when devel-
oping and implementing the intervention evaluations
and when attempting to apply resulting findings to clin-
ical contexts. Our discussion of these topics is guided by
an adherence to an organizational perspective on devel-
opment because we believe that sound theory is critical
for organizing research and intervention efforts in the
field. To begin our discussion, we provide a brief de-
scription of the field of developmental psychopathology
as it applies to clinical practice. A more comprehensive
description of the discipline, as well as an articulation
of its similarities to and divergences from related fields
of inquiry, is presented in Developmental Psychopathol-
ogy (Cicchetti & Cohen, 1995a, 1995b, in press-a, in
press-b, in press-c).
PRINCIPLES OF DEVELOPMENTAL
PSYCHOPATHOLOGY AND IMPLICATIONS
FOR CLINICAL PRACTICE
Developmental psychopathology is an integrative
scientific discipline that strives to unify, within a life
span framework, contributions from multiple fields of
inquiry with the goal of understanding the mutual in-
terplay between psychopathology and normative adap-
tation (Cicchetti, 1984, 1989, 1993; Cicchetti & Toth,
1998b; Rutter, 1986; Rutter & Garmezy, 1983; Rutter
& Sroufe, 2000; Sroufe & Rutter, 1984). Prior to the
emergence of developmental psychopathology as an in-
tegrative perspective with it is own integrity, the ef-
forts of those working in these areas had been separate
and distinct. Some of the lack of integration stemmed
498 Developmental Psychopathology and Preventive Intervention
from long-standing tensions between the philosophical
traditions underlying clinical practice and academic
training and between experimental versus applied re-
search (see Cahan & White, 1992; Cicchetti, 1984;
Cicchetti & Toth, 1991; Santostefano, 1978; Santoste-
fano & Baker, 1972).
Developmental psychopathologists are as interested
in individuals at high risk for the development of
psychopathology but who do not manifest it over time
as they are in individuals who develop an actual disor-
der (Cicchetti & Garmezy, 1993; Luthar, 2003; Luthar,
Cicchetti, & Becker, 2000; Masten, 2001). Relatedly,
developmental psychopathologists are committed to dis-
covering pathways to competent adaptation despite ex-
posure to conditions of adversity (Bonnano, 2004;
Cicchetti & Toth, 1991; Luthar, 2003). For example, in
a longitudinal investigation of the pathways to maladap-
tation and resilience from childhood to late adoles-
cence, Masten and her colleagues (1999) found that
better adolescent intellectual functioning and parenting
resources were associated with good outcomes across a
variety of competence domains, even in the context of
severe, chronic adversity. Resilient adolescents had
much in common with their low-adversity competent
peers, including average or better IQ, good quality par-
enting, and higher psychological well-being. Compre-
hending the factors contributing to positive outcomes
despite the presence of significant adversity (i.e., re-
silience) can help to broaden the understanding of de-
velopmental processes that may not be evident in good
enough normative environments (Cicchetti & Rogosch,
1997; Masten, Best, & Garmezy, 1990). As researchers
increasingly conceptualize and design their investiga-
tions at the outset with the differential pathway con-
cepts of equifinality and multifinality as a foundation
(cf. Cicchetti & Rogosch, 1996; Richters, 1997), we
will come progressively closer to achieving the unique
goals of the discipline of developmental psychopathol-
ogy: to explain the development of individual patterns
of adaptation and maladaptation (Cairns, Cairns, Xie,
Leung, & Heane, 1998; Sroufe & Rutter, 1984).
A central principle of developmental psychopathol-
ogy is that individuals may move between psychopatho-
logical and nonpsychopathological modes of functioning
(Zigler & Glick, 1986). Additionally, developmental
psychopathologists underscore that, even in the midst of
psychopathology, patients may display adaptive coping
mechanisms. Only through the consideration of both
adaptive and maladaptive processes does it become pos-
sible to delimit the presence, nature, and boundaries of
the underlying psychopathology.
Furthermore, developmental psychopathology is
a perspective that is especially applicable to the investi-
gation of transitional turning points in develop-
ment across the life span (Rutter, 1990; Schulenberg,
Sameroff, & Cicchetti, 2004). Rutter has conjectured
that key life turning points may be times when the pres-
ence of protective mechanisms could help individuals
redirect themselves from a risk trajectory onto a more
adaptive developmental pathway (Elder, 1974; Quinton
& Rutter, 1988). With respect to the emergence of
psychopathology, all periods of life are consequential in
that the developmental process may undergo a pernicious
turn toward mental disorder at any phase (Cicchetti &
Cannon, 1999; Cicchetti & Walker, 2003; Moffitt, 1993;
Post, Weiss, & Leverich, 1994; Rutter, 1996; Zigler &
Glick, 1986). In contrast to the often dichotomous world
of mental disorder/nondisorder depicted in psychiatry, a
developmental psychopathology perspective recognizes
that normality often fades into abnormality, adaptive and
maladaptive may take on differing definitions depending
on whether ones time referent is immediate circum-
stances or long-term development, and processes within
the individual can be characterized as having shades or
degrees of psychopathology.
Additionally, there has been an intensification of
interest in biological and genetic factors (Cicchetti &
Cannon, 1999; Cicchetti & Walker, 2001, 2003; Marenco
& Weinberger, 2000; Plomin & Rutter, 1998) and in
social-contextual factors related to the development of
maladaptation and psychopathology (Boyce et al., 1998;
Cicchetti & Aber, 1998; Sameroff, 2000). There is
increasing recognition of the dynamic interplay of influ-
ences over developmental time. Perhaps the most
dramatic example of this is the work on experience-
dependent brain development (Greenough, Black, & Wal-
lace, 1987). The viewpoint is now widely shared that
neurobiological development and experience are mutu-
ally influencing (Cicchetti & Tucker, 1994; Eisenberg,
1995; E. R. Kandel, 1998; C. A. Nelson & Bloom, 1997).
Brain development exerts an impact on behavior, of
course; however, the development of the brain itself is af-
fected by experience (Black, Jones, Nelson, & Gree-
nough, 1998; Cicchetti, 2002a; Francis, Diorio, Liu, &
Meaney, 1999; Meaney, 2001; Ray, 2004). Specifically,
it has been demonstrated that social processes and psy-
chological experiences can modify gene expression and
brain structure, functioning, and organization (Black
Principles of Developmental Psychopathology and Implications for Clinical Practice 499
et al., 1998; E. R. Kandel, 1998). Alterations in gene ex-
pression induced by social processes and psychological
experiences produce changes in patterns of neuronal
and synaptic connections (E. R. Kandel, 1998, 1999;
Sanchez, Ladd, & Plotsky, 2001). These changes not only
contribute to the biological bases of individuality, but
also play a prominent role in initiating and maintaining
the behavioral anomalies that are induced by social and
psychological experience.
There also has been a veritable explosion in our
knowledge of developmental neurobiology, that area of
neuroscience that focuses on factors regulating the de-
velopment of neurons, neuronal circuitry, and complex
neuronal organization systems, including the brain. In
addition, advances in the field of molecular genetics
(see, e.g., Lander & Weinberg, 2000; Lewin, 2004) have
contributed to the understanding of neurological dis-
ease, allowing scientists for the first time to understand
the genetic basis of certain diseases without requiring
foreknowledge of the underlying biochemical abnormal-
ities (Ciaranello et al., 1995). These accomplishments
have helped to engender renewed excitement for the po-
tential contributing role that the field of molecular ge-
netics can make to comprehending the development of
psychopathology (Caspi et al., 2002, 2003; Cowan, Kop-
nisky, & Hyman, 2002; Plomin & Rutter, 1998).
Likewise, as we have drawn the distinction between
factors that initiate pathways and factors that main-
tain or deflect individuals from pathways, there is a
growing recognition of the role of the developing per-
son as a processor of experience (Cicchetti, 2002b;
Cicchetti & Tucker, 1994). The environment does not
simply act on the child; the child selects, interprets,
and exerts an impact on the environment in a dynamic
way (Bergman & Magnusson, 1997; Rutter et al.,
1997; Wachs & Plomin, 1991).
Furthermore, developmental psychopathologists rec-
ognize that the milieu in which an individual develops is
likely to profoundly influence the developmental course
(Garcia Coll, Akerman, & Cicchetti, 2000; Garcia Coll
et al., 1996; Hoagwood & Jensen, 1997; Richters &
Cicchetti, 1993). The dynamic interplay of risk and pro-
tective processes may have differential impact depend-
ing on the cultural norms, practices, values, and beliefs.
Cultures may be characterized on a continuum ranging
from sociocentric (emphasizing community, family,
and interconnectedness) to individualistic (emphasizing
individuality, autonomy, and personal achievement;
Garcia Coll et al., 2000; Shweder & Bourne, 1991). The
ideal self correspondingly varies with respect to the de-
gree to which the self is defined in terms of relatedness
to others versus in terms of autonomy and achievement.
As such, cultural groups differ in their socialization
goals for desired outcomes for well-functioning mem-
bers of the culture. Norms for appropriate and inappro-
priate behavior have different thresholds, and discipline
strategies vary in accord with what behaviors are re-
garded as desirable or unacceptable. Moreover, risk and
protective processes and the manner in which they
transact may vary depending on priorities of the culture.
Consequently, the individuals response to an event, as
well as the reactions of other members of the culture,
will influence the salience of the event and how it is re-
sponded to. Culture also may influence the mode of
symptom expression. Cultural values, beliefs, and prac-
tices may tend to suppress manifestation of distress in
one domain (e.g., socioemotional) while tolerating the
expression in another domain (e.g., physical). For exam-
ple, Serafica (1997) noted a tendency for greater physi-
cal manifestations of distress to be tolerated among
Asian American families, as compared with less accep-
tance of psychological expression.
Bridging Research and Practice
Throughout its evolution as an increasingly mature dis-
cipline, an ongoing goal of the field of developmental
psychopathology has been to become a science that not
only bridges fields of study and aids in the discovery of
important new truths about the processes underlying
adaptation and maladaptation across the life span, but
also provides the best means of preventing and amelio-
rating maladaptive and psychopathological outcomes
(Cicchetti, 1990, 1993; Cicchetti & Hinshaw, 2002;
Cicchetti & Toth, 1992, 1998b, 1999). Moreover, devel-
opmental psychopathologists have sought to reduce the
dualisms that exist between behavioral and biological
sciences, between basic and applied research, and be-
tween empirical research and the clinical study and
treatment of childhood and adult high-risk conditions
and disorders.
In this vein, developmental psychopathologists be-
lieve that efforts to prevent the emergence of psycho-
pathology or to ameliorate its effects also can be
informative for understanding processes involved in
psychopathological development (Cicchetti & Hinshaw,
2002; Cicchetti & Toth, 1992; Kellam & Rebok, 1992).
For example, if the developmental course is altered as a
500 Developmental Psychopathology and Preventive Intervention
result of the implementation of preventive interventions
and the risk for negative outcomes is reduced, then pre-
vention research helps to specify processes that are in-
volved in the emergence of psychopathology or other
negative developmental outcomes. As such, prevention
research can be conceptualized as true experiments in
altering the course of development, thereby providing
insight into the etiology and pathogenesis of disordered
outcomes (Cicchetti & Hinshaw, 2002; Howe, Reiss, &
Yuh, 2002).
Prevention research is based on theoretical models
of how risk conditions are related to adverse outcomes,
positing processes that link the risk conditions to the
negative outcome (Institute of Medicine, 1994; Munoz,
Mrazek, & Haggerty, 1996; Reiss & Price, 1996). For
example, poverty and single and teenage parenthood
constitute risks for adverse family functioning, such as
child abuse and neglect, increased negative develop-
mental outcomes, and welfare dependence (Coley &
Chase-Lansdale, 1998; McLoyd, 1998). Olds and his
colleagues (1997) posited that maternal isolation, lack
of parenting skills, and poor understanding of child de-
velopment were processes mediating or linking the risk
conditions to negative outcomes. A pre- and postnatal
home visitation program was implemented to reduce
these intervening processes, and the long-term effects
of the intervention have been studied. The effectiveness
of the intervention helps to establish the importance
of the specified mediators as processes explaining
how the risk factors contribute to negative outcomes
(Hinshaw, 2002; Kraemer, Wilson, Fairburn, & Agras,
2002). Kellam and colleagues (Kellam, Rebok, Ialongo,
& Mayer, 1994; Kellam, Rebok, Mayer, Ialongo, &
Kalonder, 1994), in studying risk for negative outcomes
among predominately poor urban children, identified
early disruptive classroom behavior as a process con-
tributing to school failure and Conduct Disorder, and
poor achievement (specifically, in reading) as a factor
contributing to heightened depressive symptomatology.
Interventions were implemented to decrease classroom
disruptive behavior and to improve reading skills, with
the goal of reducing Conduct Disorder and depression
symptomatology, respectively. In summary, prevention
research not only leads to support or lack of support for
theoretical formulations accounting for the develop-
ment of psychopathology, but also can contribute to the
knowledge base of strategies that can be implemented to
reduce psychopathology and promote positive adapta-
tion (see, e.g., Conduct Problems Prevention Research
Group, 2002a, 2002b, 2002c).
Comparisons of treated individuals to normative
groups on diverse aspects of functioning provide a strin-
gent test of treatment efficacy beyond symptom remis-
sion, and knowledge of normal variation on various
indicators of adaptation is vital for informing such eval-
uations (Cicchetti & Rogosch, 1999). Knowledge of
developmental norms, appreciation of how developmen-
tal level may vary within the same age group, sensitivity
to the changing meaning that problems have at different
developmental levels, attention to the effects of develop-
mental transitions and reorganizations, and under-
standing of the factors that are essential features to in-
corporate into the design and implementation of preven-
tive interventions all may serve to enhance the potential
for optimal intervention efficacy (Cicchetti & Hinshaw,
2002; Cicchetti & Toth, 1992, 1999; Coie et al., 1993;
Institute of Medicine, 1994; Noam, 1992; Shirk, Talmi,
& Olds, 2000; Toth & Cicchetti, 1999).
Unfortunately, inquiries regarding developmental
theory and findings on basic developmental processes
are all too often quite removed from both clinical prac-
tice and clinical research (Cicchetti & Toth, 1998b;
Kazdin, 1999; Shirk, 1999; Shirk et al., 2000). Despite
rhetoric directed to the principle that developmental
theory should inform active clinical interventionand
the converse contention that treatment research should
inform relevant theorythe gap between these two en-
deavors is still broad. Indeed, in many ways, those who
perform basic developmental research and promote de-
velopmental theory appear to constitute a different cul-
ture from those who pursue prevention and intervention
efforts. At the extremes, clinically oriented investiga-
tors and practitioners perceive basic academic devel-
opmental science as overly concerned with central
tendencies and universal, developmental norms, to the
exclusion of the rich variability and nonnormative be-
havior patterns that they confront on a daily basis. Con-
versely, theorists and academic scientists appear to
construe much of the clinical endeavor as atheoretical,
practical, and ungrounded in core scientific principles
and theories (Cicchetti & Toth, 1998b).
This state of affairs is particularly distressing given
the advances that have been made in a host of basic be-
havioral and biomedical sciences and the urgent clinical
needs of large numbers of individuals and families af-
flicted by mental disorders (U.S. Department of Health
Principles of Developmental Psychopathology and Implications for Clinical Practice 501
and Human Services [DHHS], 1999). Because of the
fields still nascent ideas as to the underlying mecha-
nisms of most forms of psychopathology, the need for
direct application of basic research advances toward the
enhancement of clinical efforts can only be described as
essential. Yet, despite the increasing call for transla-
tional research that can bridge basic and applied ef-
forts, barriers that exist regarding the application of
such basic research advances to clinically relevant work
are real (Institute of Medicine, 2000). It is essential that
so-called basic investigators receive greater exposure to
training in clinical realities and that clinical investiga-
tors receive updated information about fundamental
processes that are relevant to clinical disorders. As Rees
(2002) has noted with respect to medicine, basic science
(e.g., genetics, biochemistry) and clinical science (e.g.,
patient-oriented research) are interdependent endeavors.
Rees argued that both forms of science are complemen-
tary and essential; clinical investigations should not be
replaced by basic research, nor should the provision of
service be devoid of empirical support.
In addition to their basic scientific endeavors and their
growing appreciation of the importance of conducting de-
velopmentally informed preventive interventions, from
the outset of the field, developmental psychopathologists
have been cognizant of the need to translate empirical re-
search into action. From its inception, contributors to the
flagship journal of the field, Development and Psycho-
pathology, have been urged to consider and address social
policy aspects of their research.
The parameters of developmental psychopathology
lend themselves to fostering research with implications
for society and for policymakers. The very subject matter
of the field, which encompasses risk and psychopathol-
ogy, the elucidation of precipitants of mental illness, the
mediating and moderating processes that contribute to or
mitigate against the emergence and maintenance of
psychopathology, prevention and intervention, and the in-
corporation of principles of normal development into the
conduct of empirical investigations, necessitates thinking
clearly about the implications of the work and devising
strategies that will remedy the problems being studied. In
his discussion of normal child development, Zigler (1998,
p. 530) maintains that those of us who study children
must recognize that they are not merely subjects but part-
ners in our research and we owe something to them. To
this sentiment we add that all participants in developmen-
tal psychopathology research, whether infants, children,
adolescents, adults with serious mental disorders such as
Schizophrenia or bipolar illness, or the elderly, deserve to
be beneficiaries of newfound knowledge, as well as con-
tributors to initiatives that will promote societal good.
We believe that it is essential for the field to move beyond
trying to arrive at post hoc explanations of the relevance
of research for policy and to design investigations with
policy questions at the forefront. This century presents us
all with a unique opportunity to translate rhetoric into ac-
tion and to truly achieve a research-informed policy
agenda that will benefit the welfare of all.
An Organizational Perspective: Implications
for Investigating the Nature of the Relation
between Normality and Psychopathology
Before turning to the specific risk conditions addressed in
this chapter, it is important to provide a framework within
which research and intervention can be understood. Much
research conducted in developmental psychopathology
utilizes an organizational perspective on development, a
powerful theoretical framework for conceptualizing the
intricacies of the life-span perspective on risk and
psychopathology, as well as on normal development (Cic-
chetti & Schneider-Rosen, 1986; Cicchetti & Sroufe,
1978; Sroufe & Rutter, 1984).
The organizational perspective focuses on the qual-
ity of integration both within and between the biological
and psychological systems of the individual. Moreover,
the organizational perspective addresses how develop-
ment occurs, specifically identifying a progression of
qualitative reorganizations within and among the bio-
logical, psychological, and social systems that proceed
through differentiation and subsequent hierarchical in-
tegration (Werner & Kaplan, 1963). In accord with the
organizational perspective, development is not viewed
as consisting of a series of tasks that need to be accom-
plished and that subsequently decrease in importance.
Rather, development is conceived as comprising a
number of age- and stage-relevant tasks. Although the
salience of these tasks may wane in relation to newly
emerging issues, the tasks remain important to adapta-
tion over time (Cicchetti, 1993). A hierarchical picture
of adaptation emerges in which the successful resolut-
ion of an early stage-salient issue increases the probabil-
ity of subsequent successful adjustment (Sroufe &
Rutter, 1984). As each new stage-salient issue comes to
the fore, opportunities for growth and consolidation, as
502 Developmental Psychopathology and Preventive Intervention
well as challenges associated with new vulnerabilities,
arise. Thus, an ever changing model of development in
which newly formed competencies or maladaptations
may emerge throughout the life course and transact with
the individuals prior developmental organization is
proffered (Cicchetti & Tucker, 1994). Although early
adaptation probabilistically portends the quality of fu-
ture functioning, the possibility of developmental diver-
gence and discontinuity is recognized in this dynamic
model (i.e., probabilistic epigenesis).
A principle of importance to developmental psy-
chopathologists is that individuals exert an active role in
directing the course of their development. Although
more distal historical factors and current influences
are important to the process of development, individual
choice and self-organization have increasingly been
viewed as exerting critical influences on development
(Cicchetti & Rogosch, 1997; Cicchetti & Tucker, 1994).
Across the developmental course, the evolving capacities
of individuals and their active choices allow for new as-
pects of experience, both internal (e.g., genetic/ biologi-
cal) and external, to be coordinated in increasingly
complex ways. Moreover, not only because biological fac-
tors can influence psychological processes, but also be-
cause social and psychological experiences exert actions
on the brain by feeding back on it to modify gene expres-
sion and brain structure, function, and organization
(Cicchetti & Tucker, 1994; Eisenberg, 1995; E. R. Kan-
del, 1998; C. A. Nelson & Bloom, 1997), developmental
plasticity can be brought about by both biological and
psychological self-organization (Cicchetti, 2002a; Cic-
chetti & Tucker, 1994). Thus, for example, the fact that
most maltreated children evidence at least some self-
righting tendencies in the face of extreme adversity at-
tests to the strong biological and psychological strivings
toward resilience that virtually all humans and living or-
ganisms possess (Cicchetti & Rogosch, 1997; Curtis &
Cicchetti, 2003; Waddington, 1957). In contrast, the ab-
sence of such resilient self-strivings in some maltreated
children attests to the deleterious and pernicious impact
that traumatic experiences can exert on core biological
and psychological developmental processes.
Now that we have described the parameters of the
field of developmental psychopathology, provided a de-
scription of an organizational perspective on develop-
ment, and addressed the relevance of these concepts for
clinical research and practice, we direct our attention to
high-risk conditions that have resulted in the develop-
ment and evaluation of preventive interventions in our
laboratory at Mt. Hope Family Center. We begin this
journey of discovery with child maltreatment and then
turn our attention to offspring of mothers with Major
Depressive Disorder.
CHILD MALTREATMENT
The study of maltreated children affords an opportunity
to examine environmental experience that is far beyond
the range of what is normatively encountered. Child mal-
treatment exemplifies a pathogenic relational environ-
ment that poses substantial risk for maladaptation across
diverse domains of biological and psychological devel-
opment (Cicchetti, 2002b; Cicchetti & Lynch, 1995; De-
Bellis, 2001). Both the proximal environment of the
immediate family and the more distal factors associated
with the culture and the community, as well as the trans-
actions that occur among these ecological contexts, con-
spire to undermine normal biological and psychological
developmental processes in maltreated children (Cic-
chetti & Lynch, 1993; Cicchetti & Toth, 2000).
Research on the biological and psychological sequelae
of child maltreatment is extremely important for enhanc-
ing the quality of clinical, legal, and policymaking deci-
sions for maltreated children (Cicchetti & Toth, 1993;
Toth & Cicchetti, 1993, 1998). Decisions concerning
such issues as whether to report a child as maltreated,
whether to coercively remove a child from the home,
how to develop services and interventions to meet the
specific psychological and medical needs of maltreated
children, and how to evaluate the efficacy of these ser-
vices and interventions all benefit from a solid and so-
phisticated database on the biological and psychological
sequelae of child maltreatment (Cicchetti & Toth, 1993;
Toth & Cicchetti, 1993, 1998). Thus, conducting re-
search that elucidates the developmental processes by
which maltreatment exerts its deleterious impact on
children, as well as developing theoretically and empiri-
cally informed interventions for maltreated children and
their families, should be a national priority (Cicchetti &
Toth, 1993; National Research Council, 1993).
Moreover, in times of fiscal austerity, human
services in general, including social and psychological
services for maltreated children and their families,
come under the scrutiny of budget-conscious govern-
ment administrators and legislators. Increasingly, ser-
vice providers are asked to document the beneficial
impact of their service efforts. The inability to provide
documentation through scientific research renders the
Child Maltreatment 503
services in question more vulnerable to the budget-
cutters knife. Thus, basic research on the psychological
and biological development of maltreated children po-
tentially can contribute to the development of the kind
of evaluation research methodology required to justify
service dollars to skeptical administrators and legisla-
tors and to modify ineffective programs to better serve
maltreated children and their families. Clearly, closer
collaboration between researchers and decision makers
is warranted and in the long-term interests of better re-
search and service on behalf of maltreated children.
Likewise, the investigation of developmental processes
in maltreated children may affirm, augment, or challenge
extant theories of biological and psychological growth in
normally developing children. Child maltreatment may
represent the greatest failure of the environment to pro-
vide opportunities for normal development. By investigat-
ing the effects of severe environmental disturbances,
such as child maltreatment, on individual development, it
may be possible to examine processes that normally occur
so subtly and gradually that they are not readily observed
(cf. Cicchetti & Pogge-Hesse, 1982; Cicchetti & Sroufe,
1976). Although maltreatment is a heterogeneous phe-
nomenon (Cicchetti & Barnett, 1991b; Cicchetti & Riz-
ley, 1981), it is unified by an experience of caregiving
that does not optimize normal development. Through the
examination of atypicalities in the developmental process
of maltreated children, our theories of normal develop-
ment may be enhanced.
According to the most recently published U.S. gov-
ernment statistics (DHHS, 2001), over 2.9 million chil-
dren were reported as abused or neglected in the United
States in 1999, and an estimated 826,000 children were
confirmed as having been victims of maltreatment.
There is no doubt that child maltreatment is an enor-
mous problem that exerts a toll, not only on its victims,
but also on society more broadly (Cicchetti & Rogosch,
1994). In a National Institute of Justice report (Miller,
Cohen, & Wiersema, 1996), the direct costs (e.g., med-
ical expenses, lost earnings, public programs for vic-
tims) as well as indirect costs (e.g., pain, diminished
quality of life) of child abuse and neglect were esti-
mated at $56 billion annually. Furthermore, a 2001
study funded by the Edna McConnell Clark Foundation
and conducted by Prevent Child Abuse America esti-
mated that the total cost (i.e., direct and indirect costs
combined) of child abuse in the United States is over
$94 billion per year. Annual direct costs, estimated at
$24,384,347,302, include hospitalization, chronic physi-
cal health problems, mental health care, welfare costs,
law enforcement, and court action. Yearly indirect costs
(i.e., long-term costs), estimated at $69,692,535,227,
include special education, mental and physical health
care, delinquency, criminality, and lost productivity to
society. The investigative team at Prevent Child Abuse
America utilized stringent inclusion criteria for child
maltreatment in their study. Specifically, children had
to manifest documented harm as a result of child abuse
and/or neglect in order to be included in the sample of
maltreated children utilized to generate annual and
long-term cost estimates of child maltreatment.
Definitional Considerations in
Child Maltreatment
To adequately address the needs of maltreated children,
an accurate and agreed upon definition of what consti-
tutes maltreatment must be present. According to the
developmental psychopathology perspective, a recogni-
tion of the developmental and contextual aspects of
maltreatment is a requisite for understanding its causes
and consequences. A caregiver must be able to adapt to
the changing needs of a child. Failure to do so could
constitute an act of maltreatment, depending on the de-
velopmental level of the child. Thus, whereas close
monitoring and physical proximity are expected with a
newborn, a similar parenting style with an adolescent
would be inappropriate and, taken to extremes, emo-
tionally abusive. The actual consequences of child
maltreatment also manifest themselves differently ac-
cording to a number of factors, including the perpetra-
tor and the childs developmental level. Accordingly,
methods of documenting psychological harm will need
to vary with the childs age for an accurate assessment
of possible sequelae. In addition to child-relevant con-
siderations, alterations in the parent, the family, and
the broader extrafamilial environment need to be con-
sidered in any definition of maltreatment (see Barnett,
Manly, & Cicchetti, 1993).
Because extensive research information is required
if it is to be useful in making policy decisions, re-
searchers must be able to communicate their findings
and compare their results across laboratories and
across samples. Standardizing and unifying definitions
of child maltreatment reflect fundamental steps toward
improving research and hence the knowledge base
about abuse and neglect. Systematized definitions also
represent an essential aspect of ensuring consistent and
504 Developmental Psychopathology and Preventive Intervention
adequate services to children in need. The problems in
constructing effective operational definitions include
a lack of social consensus about what forms of parent-
ing are unacceptable or dangerous; uncertainty about
whether to define maltreatment based on adult behav-
ior, child outcome, or some combination of the two;
controversy over whether criteria of harm or endanger-
ment should be included in definitions of maltreat-
ment; and disagreements about whether similar defini-
tions should be used for scientific, legal, and clinical
purposes.
The last issue in particular has proved to be a contin-
uing source of disagreement because scientists, law-
makers, and clinicians all use separate definitions of
maltreatment to best suit their particular needs. In legal
settings, for example, definitions focusing on the
demonstrable harm done to the child may be useful in
prosecuting cases (Juvenile Justice Standards Project,
1977). However, a number of investigators have argued
that for research purposes, definitions of maltreatment
that focus on the specific acts that endanger children
may be more appropriate (Barnett et al., 1993; Cicchetti
& Barnett, 1991b). This allows researchers to concen-
trate on identifiable behaviors that make up part of the
childs caretaking environment rather than the uncertain
consequences of those parental actions, such as some
form of harm that may or may not be demonstrable. The
challenge for researchers, though, is to develop precise
operational definitions that minimize relying on profes-
sional opinion. This lack of consensus about what con-
stitutes maltreatment makes clear communication and
collaboration among the respective fields difficult.
In general, four categories of child maltreatment are
usually distinguished from each other:
1. Physical abuse: The infliction of bodily injury on a
child by other than accidental means.
2. Sexual abuse: Sexual contact or attempted sexual
contact between a caregiver or other responsible adult
and a child for purposes of the caregivers gratifica-
tion or financial benefit.
3. Neglect: The failure to provide minimum care and the
lack of appropriate supervision.
4. Emotional maltreatment: Persistent and extreme
thwarting of a childs basic emotional needs.
Each of these subtypes of maltreatment represents a
clear deviation from the average expectable environ-
ment. However, even an issue as seemingly straightfor-
ward as identifying maltreatment subtypes can become
unclear. It would be a mistake to think that maltreatment
always occurs in discrete subtypes. There is a high de-
gree of comorbidity among maltreatment subtypes, indi-
cating that many maltreated children experience more
than one form of maltreatment (Cicchetti & Barnett,
1991b). In many instances, it may be theoretically or
clinically necessary to focus on the major subtype of
maltreatment in a particular case; however, the actual
experience of many children is much more complicated,
and this presents significant challenges for both re-
searchers and clinicians. For more detailed operational
definitions of subtypes of maltreatment, the reader is
referred to Barnett et al. (1993).
Moving toward uniform agreement on what consti-
tutes maltreatment and instituting a standardized means
of recording the pertinent information regarding identi-
fied maltreatment are essential steps for the future.
Despite some important groundbreaking work in this di-
rection, much research remains to be conducted. The
challenge is to adopt a consistent method of systematiz-
ing maltreatment that is feasible and that satisfies the
needs of individuals addressing various related issues.
The Need for a Nosology of Child Maltreatment
A fundamental difficulty inherent in the investigation of
child maltreatment is that the range of phenomena cov-
ered by the term is enormously varied. We believe there
are four primary types of heterogeneity that merit our
foremost attention: (1) symptom pattern or type of mal-
treatment, (2) etiology, (3) developmental sequelae, and
(4) response to treatment. The first type acknowledges
the fact that a spectrum of different problems is sub-
sumed under the term child maltreatment (Giovannoni
& Becerra, 1979). The second recognizes that etiologi-
cal pathways or causal networks exist, giving rise to the
spectrum of different types of maltreatment. The third
type of heterogeneity is revealed in the existing data on
the consequences of maltreatment on child developmen-
tal outcome (Cicchetti & Lynch, 1995). Not surpris-
ingly, there is no specific single pattern exhibited by
maltreated children that can be described as the profile
of abuse or neglect. Children of different ages, at differ-
ent developmental stages, from diverse environments,
and with differing experiences, who are exposed to
vastly different forms of maltreatment, are likely to
manifest vulnerabilities and disabilities in a wide vari-
Child Maltreatment 505
ety of age-specific ways. The fourth type of heterogene-
ity underscores the observation that there is wide vari-
ability in response to treatment interventions among
families where there has been maltreatment (Daro,
2000; Toth & Cicchetti, 1993; Wolfe, 1987). We believe
that the failure to attend to these four sources of hetero-
geneity, each of which also is interrelated, has con-
tributed to our less than complete understanding of this
important problem.
As one solution to alleviating these definitional
concerns, in our laboratory we have developed and im-
plemented an operational system for classifying the sub-
types, severity, frequency/chronicity, perpetrator(s),
and developmental period(s) during which maltreatment
occurred (Barnett et al., 1993; Cicchetti & Barnett,
1991b). Our nosological approach, known as the Mal-
treatment Classification System (MCS), is utilized by
raters who code official maltreatment incidents that are
reported to Child Protective Services (CPS) units and
that are kept as permanent records. Both maltreating
and nonmaltreating parents grant permission for us to
examine their CPS files.
There are several advantages to utilizing only
legally identified protective service cases of abuse and
neglect. First, the field of social work has a longer and
more extensive history of documenting occurrences of
child maltreatment than the psychological or medical
professions (B. Nelson, 1984). Second, all maltreat-
ment filings in the state registry are legally substanti-
ated. By having the abuse and neglect reports verified
by an outside party and not by individuals conducting
the research, investigators avoid the risk of alienating
families who otherwise might have participated in the
research program. In addition, studies of legally identi-
fied occurrences of child maltreatment are more repre-
sentative of cases in protective services and therefore
more directly applicable to this broad segment of the
population.
The MCS is presently being used in more than 40 re-
search laboratories across the United States. Because 49
of the 50 states, as well as the District of Columbia, have
state registries for logging child abuse and neglect re-
ports, the MCS has been able to be used on state record
keeping procedures that vary from those employed in
New York State, where the MCS was developed. The
MCS has demonstrated excellent reliability and validity
in all laboratories that have utilized it (Manly, 2005;
Manly, Cicchetti, & Barnett, 1994; Manly, Kim, Ro-
gosch, & Cicchetti, 2001).
The use of protective service families for research has
not gone uncriticized. Gelles (1982) argued that re-
searchers reliance on official reports of maltreatment
results in the study of the factors that lead to being
caught as much as, if not more than, the study of mal-
treatment per se. We acknowledge this criticism but also
believe that coding child protective records is the best
currently available approach and it contributes to our un-
derstanding of the families that social service agencies,
clinicians, and the courts deal with most frequently. In
addition, it is likely that the reports that are brought to
the attention of CPS are among the most severe instances
of maltreatment. This is especially true as limited com-
munity resources force only the most severe instances of
maltreatment to receive attention and treatment. More
broadly, the problem is that protective service records un-
derrepresent the true incidence of child maltreatment
(Giovannoni & Becerra, 1979; DHHS, 1988). In addition
to the unspecifiable number of maltreated children who
go unreported, many incidents of maltreatment are diffi-
cult to substantiate and thus go unproven.
To reduce some of these problems, we also administer
the Maternal Maltreatment Classification Interview
(MMCI; Cicchetti, Toth, & Manly, 2003) to mothers in
the families who participate in our research. Both mal-
treating and nonmaltreating comparison mothers are in-
terviewed with the MMCI. Nonmaltreating comparison
families must be matched with maltreating families on a
variety of sociodemographic indices to differentiate the
effects of maltreatment from the consequences of
poverty and its associated risk factors (Elmer, 1977;
Trickett, Aber, Carlson, & Cicchetti, 1991). Accord-
ingly, it is highly probable that some percentage of non-
maltreated comparison participants may, in reality, be
undetected maltreaters or that, over time, some may re-
ceive an indicated CPS report. To address these issues,
we check the child abuse registry at 6-month intervals
as part of our ongoing cross-sectional and longitudinal
research projects. This approach enables us to ascertain
whether any participants in our comparison groups have
become maltreaters.
Likewise, we reexamine the CPS records of the mal-
treated children in all of our investigations. Especially
in longitudinal studies, additional subtypes of maltreat-
ment incidents may occur, and such chronic, severe, and
diverse experiences of malevolent care may exert delete-
rious effects on biological and psychological develop-
mental processes (Cicchetti & Manly, 2001; Cicchetti &
Rogosch, 2001; English, 2003; Manly et al., 2001).
506 Developmental Psychopathology and Preventive Intervention
The Effects of Maltreatment on the
Developmental Process
We next provide illustrative evidence on how growing up
in an environment that deviates from the average ex-
pectable conditions affects maltreated childrens indi-
vidual development and functioning. It is in childrens
ontogenic (i.e., individual) development that the effects
of maltreatment, and the environmental failure that mal-
treatment represents, can be seen. Our research on the
biological and psychological consequences of child mal-
treatment is guided by the organizational perspective
described earlier.
In our presentation of the developmental sequelae
of child maltreatment, we present only research that
helped to inform our preventive interventions for mal-
treated infants, toddlers, and preschoolers. This entails a
focus on infancy through early childhood and on those
domains of development that have been addressed in our
evaluations of interventions for maltreated children.
For a more extensive review of extant research on the
sequelae of child maltreatment across the life span and
in additional biological, psychological, and socioemo-
tional domains of development, the reader is referred to
Cicchetti (2002b), Cicchetti and Toth (2000), Cicchetti
and Valentino (in press), DeBellis (2001), and Trickett
and McBride-Chang (1995).
Affect Regulation
Affect regulation is defined as the intra- and extraorgan-
ismic mechanisms by which emotional arousal is redi-
rected, controlled, modulated, and modified so that an
individual can function adaptively in emotionally chal-
lenging situations (Cicchetti, Ganiban, & Barnett,
1991). Appropriately developed affect regulation helps
the individual to maintain arousal within a manageable
range, thereby optimizing performance. Because the in-
fant relies on the caregiver for external scaffolding and
support, the quality of care and interactions with the
caregiver contributes to experience-dependent individ-
ual differences in patterns of affect differentiation, ex-
pression, and regulation that emerge (Schore, 2003a,
2003b; Sroufe, 1996). Because early affect regulatory
processes arise in the context of the caregiver-child
relationship, it is not surprising that disruptions in the
development of affect regulation occur more commonly
in maltreated children than in nonmaltreated compari-
son youngsters. Thus, in accord with a developmental
psychopathology perspective, adequate affect regulation
serves as a foundation for the development of secure at-
tachment relationships, an autonomous and coherent self
system, and effective relations with peers, whereas
early affect-regulatory failures increase the probability
that a child will develop future insecure attachment rela-
tionships, self system impairments, and peer difficulties
(Cicchetti & Lynch, 1995; Cicchetti, Lynch, Shank, &
Manly, 1992).
The roots of affect regulation deficits have been
noted in maltreated infants. Gaensbauer, Mrazek,
and Harmon (1981) observed four patterns of affect
differentiation in infants who had been maltreated: de-
velopmentally and affectively retarded, depressed,
ambivalent and affectively labile, and angry. These in-
vestigators believed that the pattern displayed was de-
pendent on an interaction between the caregiving
experienced and the infants biological predisposition.
In a case study design, different types of maltreatment
were related to the development of various affective
patterns (Gaensbauer & Hiatt, 1984). Infants who were
physically abused were found to demonstrate high lev-
els of negative affects such as fear, anger, and sadness,
and a paucity of positive affect, whereas emotionally
neglected infants presented as affectively blunted, evi-
dencing little negative or positive affect.
This early emergence of negative affect in physically
abused infants is in contrast to the normal pattern seen
in nonmaltreated infants, where fear, anger, and sadness
do not appear until approximately 7 to 9 months of age
(Sroufe, 1996). It is likely that early malevolent care ac-
celerates the development of negative affect pathways in
the brains of maltreated infants. We believe that this
may be accomplished by excessive synaptic pruning of
the positive affect neurobiological pathways as a result
of inadequate or insufficient early positive experiences
by abused babies.
In a related investigation, Pollak, Cicchetti, Hornung,
and Reed (2000) conducted two experiments on the recog-
nition of emotion among physically abused, physically ne-
glected, and nonmaltreated preschoolers to examine the
effects of atypical experience on emotional development.
In the first study, children were required to match a facial
expression to an array of emotion-recognition vignettes.
Neglected children had more difficulty discriminating
emotional expressions than did the physically abused and
the nonmaltreated comparison youngsters. Signal detec-
tion analyses revealed that neglected children used a more
liberal bias for selecting sad faces and that physically
abused children displayed a response bias for angry facial
expressions (see also Pollak & Kistler, 2002; Pollak &
Sinha, 2002). For the physically abused child, displays of
Child Maltreatment 507
anger may be the strongest predictor of threat; however,
increased sensitivity to anger could result in decreased at-
tention to other emotional cues (Pollak & Tolley-Schell,
2003). In contrast, the physically neglected child may suf-
fer from an extremely impoverished emotional learning
environment.
The findings from the second experiment indicated
that maltreatment appears to affect childrens under-
standing of particular emotional displays. Neglected
children saw greater similarity between happy and sad
expressions than did the other groups. This outcome is
especially surprising because recognition of happiness
usually emerges developmentally early (Sroufe, 1996),
suggesting that even relatively simple aspects of emo-
tional recognition are affected through neglectful
parenting. Physically abusive environments appear to
compromise childrens ability to recognize and differen-
tiate some emotions, while concurrently heightening
their awareness of other emotions. For example, physi-
cally abused children were as able as nonmaltreated
preschoolers to perceive dissimilarities between anger
and other negative expressions. In comparison, ne-
glected children perceived fewer distinctions between
anger and other negative expressions than did either non-
maltreated or physically abused children. Another com-
pelling finding was that, unlike nonmaltreated children,
both physically abused and physically neglected chil-
dren rated expressions of both anger and sadness as very
similar to an exemplar of an emotionally neutral face.
Pollak et al. (2000) conjectured that maltreated children
may have attributed anger or sadness to the neutral face
or that maltreated children may interpret happy or neu-
tral faces as masks for more malevolent emotions.
In addition to the early affect expression, regulation,
and regulatory anomalies found among maltreated in-
fants, physically abused children also demonstrate later
affect regulatory problems in the coping that they em-
ploy when confronted with interadult anger. For exam-
ple, physically abused preschool-age boys who observe
simulated anger directed at their mother by an adult fe-
male confederate evidence more aggression (e.g., physi-
cal and verbal expressions of anger directed toward the
female confederate) and more coping designed to mini-
mize their mothers distress (e.g., helping mother, com-
forting mother) than do nonabused boys (Cummings,
Hennessy, Rabideau, & Cicchetti, 1994). It appears that
physically abused boys do not habituate to anger as a re-
sult of being exposed to familial hostility; rather, they
are more aroused and angered by it and more likely to
try to stop it. In general, the hypervigilance and arousal
in response to hostility seen among abused children
might contribute to the development of their aggressive
behavior, especially if conflict in the home is chronic.
Likewise, Maughan and Cicchetti (2002) examined
the unique and interactive effects of child maltreatment
and interadult violence on preschool childrens develop-
ing strategies of emotion regulation and socioemotional
adjustment, as well as the mediational role of emotion
dysregulation in the link between childrens pathogenic
relational experiences and behavioral outcomes. Person-
oriented emotion regulation patterns (EMRPs) were
determined based on childrens emotional, behavioral,
and self-reported responses to simulated interadult
anger. Maltreatment history was found to predict chil-
drens EMRPs, with approximately 80% of the mal-
treated preschoolers exhibiting dysregulated emotion
patterns (i.e., undercontrolled/ambivalent and overcon-
trolled/unresponsive types) compared with only 37% of
the nonmaltreated comparison youngsters. Undercon-
trolled/ambivalent EMRPs were associated with mater-
nal reports of child behavior problems, and this type of
EMRP was found to mediate the link between maltreat-
ment and childrens anxious/depressed symptoms.
In a related study, physically abused and nonabused
school-age boys were presented with videotaped vi-
gnettes of adults in angry and friendly interactions
(Hennessy, Rabideau, Cicchetti, & Cummings, 1994).
After viewing these vignettes, abused boys reported ex-
periencing more distress than nonabused boys in re-
sponse to interadult hostility, especially when the
hostility involved unresolved anger between adults.
Moreover, physically abused boys described more fear
in response to different forms of angry adult behavior.
These results support a sensitization model in which re-
peated exposure to anger and familial violence leads to
greater, rather than less, emotional reactivity. Simi-
larly, the distress responses to interadult anger that
abused children display may provide an early indication
of an increased potential for developing internalizing
problems among children exposed to high levels of
familial violence (cf. Kaufman, 1991; Toth, Manly, &
Cicchetti, 1992).
Additional evidence about the affective coping strate-
gies of maltreated children can be seen in studies of cog-
nitive control functioning. Rieder and Cicchetti (1989)
found that maltreated children are more hypervigilant to
aggressive stimuli and recall a greater number of distract-
ing aggressive stimuli than do nonmaltreated children.
Maltreated children also assimilate aggressive stimuli
more readily, even though this impairs their efficiency on
508 Developmental Psychopathology and Preventive Intervention
tasks. Although hypervigilance and quick assimilation of
aggressive stimuli may emerge as adaptive coping re-
sponses in a maltreating environment, these strategies be-
come less adaptive when children are faced with
nonthreatening situations. Eventually, such a response
pattern may adversely affect childrens adaptation under
normal conditions and impair their ability to negotiate
subsequent tasks of development successfully.
In support of this assertion, Shields, Cicchetti, and
Ryan (1994) have shown in an observational study that
maltreated children are deficient in affective and behav-
ioral regulation, and that this attenuated self-regulation
mediates the negative effects of maltreatment on chil-
drens social competence with peers. As an organiza-
tional perspective would predict, although affective and
behavioral self-regulatory processes were interrelated,
each appeared to represent a distinct developmental sys-
tem that differentially and individually affects chil-
drens competence.
Corroboration for the prediction, emanating from the
organizational perspective, that maltreated children are
at increased risk for evidencing a developmental pro-
gression from affect-regulatory problems to behavioral
dysregulation has been obtained in a number of cross-
sectional investigations. Maltreated toddlers have been
shown to react to peer distress with poorly regulated
and situationally inappropriate affect and behavior, in-
cluding anger, fear, and aggression, as opposed to the
more normatively expected response of empathy and
concern (Main & George, 1985; Troy & Sroufe, 1987).
Likewise, maltreated preschool and school-age children
have been found to exhibit a range of dysregulated be-
haviors that are frequently characterized by disruptive
and aggressive situations (Cicchetti & Manly, 2001;
Cicchetti & Toth, 1995).
In an investigation conducted in the context of a re-
search summer day camp, Shields and Cicchetti (1998)
examined the interplay among emotion, attention, and
aggression in a sample of school-age maltreated and
nonmaltreated children. A central focus of this investi-
gation was to examine mechanisms underlying maltreat-
ments deleterious effects on behavioral and emotional
dysregulation.
Shields and Cicchetti (1998) found that maltreated
children were more verbally and physically assaultive
than were the nonmaltreated comparison children, with
physical abuse placing children at heightened risk for ag-
gression. Maltreated children also were more likely than
comparison children to exhibit the distractibility, over-
activity, and poor concentration characteristic of chil-
dren who experience deficits in attention modulation.
Physically and sexually abused children also displayed
attention disturbances suggestive of subclinical or non-
pathological dissociation, including daydreaming, blank
stares, and confusion. Deficits in emotion regulation
also were evident, in that maltreated children were less
likely than comparison children to show adaptive regula-
tion and more likely to display emotional lability/
negativity and contextually inappropriate emotion
expressions. Such pervasive deficits in maltreated chil-
drens regulatory capacities are cause for special con-
cern, as the ability to modulate behavior, attention, and
emotion underlie childrens adaptive functioning in a
number of key domains, including self-development, aca-
demic achievement, and interpersonal relationships (Ci-
cchetti, 1989, 1991; Shonk & Cicchetti, 2001).
Shields and Cicchetti (1998) also demonstrated that
impaired capacities for attention modulation contribute
to emotion dysregulation in maltreated children. Specif-
ically, attention deficits mediated maltreatments ef-
fects on emotional lability/negativity, inappropriate
affect, and attenuated emotion regulation. Attention
processes that suggest subclinical or nonpathological
dissociation also contributed to maltreated childrens
deficits in emotion regulation. Thus, abuse seems to po-
tentiate disruptions in attention that result in both a rel-
ative detachment from and unawareness of ones
surroundings, as well as in hyperattunement and hyper-
reactivity to the social surround (Pollak & Tolley-
Schell, 2003; Rieder & Cicchetti, 1989). Together, these
deficits appear to compromise maltreated childrens
ability to regulate behavior and affect in social settings.
In another investigation, Shields and Cicchetti (2001)
examined children who were maltreated by their care-
givers in order to ascertain whether these children
would be more likely to bully others and to be at in-
creased risk for victimization by peers than would non-
maltreated comparison children. An additional focus
was to investigate emotions role in bullying and victim-
ization among maltreated children. Maltreated children
were found to be more likely than nonmaltreated chil-
dren to bully other children. Bullying was especially
prevalent among abused children who experienced mal-
treating acts of commission (physical or sexual abuse).
Maltreatment also placed children at risk for victimiza-
tion by peers. As expected, both bullies and victims evi-
denced problems with emotion regulation. Furthermore,
logistic regression analyses suggested that emotion dys-
Child Maltreatment 509
regulation made a unique contribution to differentiating
bullies and victims from children who did not evidence
bully or victim problems. In addition, maltreatments ef-
fects on childrens risk for bullying and victimization
were mediated by emotion dysregulation.
In summary, investigations of preschool and school-
age maltreated children reveal that emotion regulatory
abilities may mediate the link between maltreatment ex-
periences and developmental outcomes. Difficulties
with emotion regulation have been shown to adversely
affect maltreated childrens peer relations and to con-
tribute to the emergence of behavior problems and
psychopathology. Moreover, an organizational perspec-
tive on development suggests that, in the absence of
adaptive self-organization, positive experiences with
other adult figures, and/or successful intervention, these
difficulties are likely to persist across the life span, re-
sulting in future difficulties in the relationship arena
and in overall functioning.
The Development of Attachment Relationships
The capacity for preferential attachment originates dur-
ing early affect regulation experiences and interactions
with the caregiver. These early parent-child experiences
provide a context for childrens emerging biobehavioral
organization (Hofer, 1987; Pipp & Harmon, 1987).
Specifically, the preattachment parent-child environ-
ment helps to shape childrens physiological regulation
and biobehavioral patterns of response (Gunnar & Nel-
son, 1994; Schore, 1994, 2003a; Sroufe, 1996).
More overt manifestations of attachment become
salient toward the end of the 1st year of life, when infants
derive feelings of security from their caregivers and use
them as a base from which to explore the environment
(Sroufe, 1996). Parent-child interactions characterized
by synchrony and relatedness and by appropriate affec-
tive interchange are associated with successful adapta-
tion during this stage of development. The knowledge
that a caregiver is reliable and responsive also is critical
because the absence of contingent responsiveness on the
part of the caregiver can impede infants ability to de-
velop feelings of security in their primary attachment re-
lationship (Cummings & Davies, 1996; Sroufe & Waters,
1977). Ultimately, the task for the child is to enter into
a goal-corrected partnership, where the caregiver and
the child share internal states and goals (Bowlby,
1969/1982). Based on the relationship history with their
primary caregivers, children form representational mod-
els of attachment figures, of themselves, and of them-
selves in relation to others (Bowlby, 1969/1982; Brether-
ton, 1985; Crittenden, 1990). Through these mental rep-
resentational models, childrens affects, cognitions, and
expectations about future interactions are organized and
carried forward into subsequent relationships (Sroufe &
Fleeson, 1988).
Although maltreated children do form attachments,
the main issue concerns the quality of their attachments
and their internal representational models of attachment
figures, the self, and the self in relation to others. Stud-
ies conducted to date converge in revealing that the
attachments maltreated children form with their care-
givers are significantly more likely to be insecure than
are those of nonmaltreated children (see, e.g., Egeland
& Sroufe, 1981; Schneider-Rosen, Braunwald, Carlson,
& Cicchetti, 1985). Utilizing the traditional Ainsworth,
Blehar, Waters, and Wall (1978) tripartite classification
system, approximately 70% of maltreated children have
been classified as insecure anxious/avoidant (Type A) or
insecure anxious/resistant (Type C). The remaining
30% of children were classified as securely attached
(Type B).
Careful observation of a number of videotapes from
several laboratories with samples of maltreated infants
and young children led to the discovery that the behavior
of these children in the Strange Situation (Ainsworth &
Wittig, 1969) did not readily conform with the criteria
of the Ainsworth et al. (1978) classification system (see,
e.g., Egeland & Sroufe, 1981; Main & Solomon, 1990).
Unlike infants with the more typical Type A, B, or C
patterns of attachment, maltreated infants were often
found to lack organized strategies for dealing with sepa-
rations from and reunions with their caregivers. Main
and Solomon (1986, 1990) described this pattern of at-
tachment as disorganized/disoriented (Type D). In addi-
tion, these infants displayed bizarre behaviors in the
presence of their caregiver, such as interrupted move-
ments and expressions; dazing, freezing, and stilling;
and apprehension.
In a related vein, Crittenden (1988) has identified
another atypical pattern of attachment in her observa-
tions of children who have experienced various forms
of maltreatment. Crittenden discovered that a number
of maltreated children displayed unusual patterns of
moderate to high levels of avoidance of the mother in
combination with moderate to high levels of resistance.
She labeled this pattern avoidant-resistant (Type A-C).
Although theoretical distinctions exist between Main
and Solomons (1986, 1990) and Crittendens views of
510 Developmental Psychopathology and Preventive Intervention
disorganization, most investigators have chosen to con-
sider the A-C category as a subtype of the disorgan-
ized/disoriented Type D attachment pattern (Cicchetti,
Toth, & Lynch, 1995). All researchers consider the A-C
and D classifications to represent atypical patterns of
attachment.
In a revised attachment classification scheme that in-
cludes these atypical patterns, maltreated infants and
toddlers demonstrate a preponderance of insecure and
atypical attachments (Barnett, Ganiban, & Cicchetti,
1999; Carlson, Cicchetti, Barnett, & Braunwald, 1989;
Crittenden, 1988; Lyons-Ruth, Connell, Zoll, & Stahl,
1987). Studies that incorporate atypical attachments
into their classification scheme typically reveal rates of
attachment insecurity for maltreated youngsters to be
as high as 90%. Furthermore, approximately 80% of
maltreated infants and toddlers exhibit disorganized at-
tachments, a rate that far exceeds those observed in
nonmaltreated infants and toddlers from similar low-
socioeconomic status (SES) backgrounds (Barnett et al.,
1999; Carlson et al., 1989; Lyons-Ruth, Repacholi,
McLeod, & Silva, 1991).
Moreover, maltreated infants and toddlers show sub-
stantial stability of insecure attachment, whereas se-
curely attached maltreated youngsters evidence
instability of attachment organization (Cicchetti & Bar-
nett, 1991a; Schneider-Rosen et al., 1985). In contrast,
for nonmaltreated youngsters, secure attachments are
highly stable, whereas insecure attachments are more
likely to change (Thompson, 1998). Furthermore, sub-
stantial stability of disorganized attachments has been
shown across the ages of 12, 18, and 24 months (Barnett
et al., 1999).
The Development of an Autonomous Self System
During the second half of the 2nd year of life, children
experience an increased sense of themselves as au-
tonomous. Before this age, processes of emotion regula-
tion are primarily sensorimotor in origin. As a sense of
self emerges, an increase in representational capacities
arises (Sroufe, 1996). Consequently, children become
able to use symbolic capacities such as play and lan-
guage to convey their needs and feelings. This develop-
mental transition also marks a shift in the burden of
self-regulation from the caregiver to the child. However,
caregiver availability and responsivity continue to re-
main necessary to the facilitation of this developmental
task. Throughout this period, children are able to rely on
representations of caregivers to alleviate their distress
during separations. Thus, the representational models of
self and other that had their origins in the early caregiv-
ing relationship exert a significant impact on the contin-
ued development of the self system.
As self-organization is brought forward to the new
tasks of development, a number of aspects of maltreated
childrens self-development are likely to be affected,
with possible implications for their subsequent interper-
sonal relationships. Studies on the development of self-
recognition of maltreated children provide some insight
into their emerging self-concept. Although there are no
deficits in maltreated infants ability to recognize their
rouge-marked selves in a mirror, they are more likely
than nonmaltreated infants to display neutral or negative
affect on visual self-recognition (Schneider-Rosen &
Cicchetti, 1991).
Other impairments in maltreated childrens self sys-
tems have been noted as well. For example, maltreated
children talk less about themselves and about their inter-
nal states than do nonmaltreated children (Beeghly &
Cicchetti, 1994). Maltreated children with insecure at-
tachments display the most compromised internal state
language (Beeghly & Cicchetti, 1994). The ability to
talk about internal states and feelings is a development
of late toddlerhood that is believed to reflect toddlers
emergent self-other understanding and to be fundamen-
tal to the regulation of social interaction (Beeghly &
Cicchetti, 1994). Maltreated childrens negative feel-
ings about themselves and their inability to talk about
their own activities and states may impede their ability
to engage in successful social relationships.
In particular, maltreated children appear to be most
reluctant to talk about their negative internal states
(Beeghly & Cicchetti, 1994). This finding is corrobo-
rated by reports that maltreated children may actually
inhibit negative affect, especially in the context of their
relationship with their caregiver (Crittenden & DiLalla,
1988; Lynch & Cicchetti, 1991). It is possible that some
maltreated children adopt a strategy designed to sup-
press the expression of their own negative feelings to
avoid eliciting adverse responses from their caregiver
(Cicchetti, 1991). Although this approach may be adap-
tive in the context of a maltreating relationship, it can
become maladaptive and lead to incompetence in other
interpersonal contexts. Additionally, the inability of
maltreated children to identify and discuss their own
distress may play a major role in these childrens diffi-
culties in displaying empathy toward their peers (Main
& George, 1985; Troy & Sroufe, 1987).
Child Maltreatment 511
In another investigation of self-development, Alessan-
dri and Lewis (1996) examined the self-conscious emo-
tion expressions of shame and pride in maltreated
children. These self-conscious emotions evolve, in part,
from the childs burgeoning cognitive abilities between
the 2nd and 3rd year of life. Included among the self-
conscious emotions are embarrassment, pride, shame,
and guilt. In particular, the ability to mentally represent
standards for comparison, objective self-awareness and
self-evaluation, and the capacity to reflect on and attrib-
ute outcomes to personal competence appear to be the
prerequisite cognitive capabilities for the development of
shame and pride (Kagan, 1981; Lewis & Brooks-Gunn,
1979; Sroufe, 1996).
Alessandri and Lewis (1996) found that maltreated
girls displayed more shame and less pride than nonmal-
treated girls. On the other hand, maltreated boys exhib-
ited less shame and pride than nonmaltreated boys.
Notably, the finding that maltreated girls manifested
less pride and more shame in the achievement-like situa-
tions used to evoke these self-conscious emotions sug-
gests that these girls are at high risk for developing
dysfunctions or disorders of the self and for adapting
poorly to school (cf. Cicchetti, 1989). In contrast, mal-
treated boys displayed a reduction of the self-conscious
emotions of shame and pride, developed strategies that
attributed their difficulties to characteristics of others,
and employed acting-out behaviors to cope with their in-
terpersonal difficulties.
Koenig, Cicchetti, and Rogosch (2000) examined
child compliance and noncompliance behavior in mal-
treated and nonmaltreated comparison preschoolers.
These children were observed with their mothers during
a toy cleanup situation that followed a semistructured
free play. Features of child compliance/noncompliance
involve a shift from reliance on external controls to in-
ternal mechanisms, thereby reflecting child internaliza-
tion of the maternal agenda (Kochanska, Aksan, &
Koenig, 1995). Two subtypes of maltreated preschoolers
were investigated: physically abused and neglected.
Compared with nonmaltreated children, abused young-
sters were found to exhibit less internalization, whereas
neglected youngsters displayed significantly more nega-
tive affect. Specifically, abused children were more
likely to show situational rather than committed compli-
ance. The strategy of situational compliance involves
suppression of negative behaviors and immediate com-
pliance with the maternal directive. Because abused
children appear to distort their own perceptions and
emotional responses, these youngsters could develop a
false self, wherein the overt presentation does not ac-
curately reflect internal states. This could impede phys-
ically abused childrens ability to express their true
needs to others, thus contributing to lack of need fulfill-
ment and difficulties in emotion regulation.
In addition, the increased negative affect seen in ne-
glected children could prove to be highly detrimental to
these childrens moral development because turning
anger or negative feelings inward, instead of directing
them toward others, is crucial for the development of
guilt. Internalized guilt is essential to motivate children
to inhibit antisocial and engage in prosocial behaviors.
Alternatively, instead of indicating anger, the negative
affect seen in neglected children may represent feelings
of shame or embarrassment, thereby placing these chil-
dren at risk for the development of depression. Further-
more, maltreated and nonmaltreated groups differed in
the maternal variables that predicted child internaliza-
tion. A lower level of maternal negative affect was
linked to child internalization in maltreated children,
whereas a lower level of maternal joy predicted internal-
ization for the nonmaltreated children.
Intervention directed at aiding maltreated children in
the identification and expression of their cognitions and
emotions, especially with regard to their attachment fig-
ures, can decrease disturbances to the self system. In-
terventions focused on improving mothers sensitivity
and responsiveness to their childrens feelings and needs
also is crucial.
In a further investigation of self-related development,
Cicchetti, Rogosch, Maughan, Toth, and Bruce (2003)
examined false belief understanding, an aspect of a the-
ory of mind (TOM), in low-SES maltreated, low-SES
nonmaltreated, and middle-SES nonmaltreated 3- to 8-
year-old children. The development of false belief un-
derstanding, the ability to make inferences about what
other persons believe to be the case in a specific situa-
tion, is a capacity regarded as a critical component of
mature social skills and thought (Perner, 1991; Well-
man, 1990). Possessing the knowledge that different in-
dividuals can have different thoughts about the same
situation is an important achievement that makes it pos-
sible to predict what other persons will do across a vari-
ety of scenarios. As such, false belief understanding has
been conceived as a hallmark of a representational the-
ory of mind (Perner, 1991). Although young children
have knowledge about mental states as early as the 2nd
year of life, they fail to comprehend representational
512 Developmental Psychopathology and Preventive Intervention
states necessary to infer the thoughts of others until age
4. This conceptual advance has been described as a shift
from a situation-based to a representation-based under-
standing of behavior (Perner, 1991). Moreover, the
acquisition of false belief understanding by age 4 is a
well-replicated and remarkably robust experimental
finding (Wellman, Cross, & Watson, 2001).
Among children with a verbal mental age of 49
months or greater, maltreatment was related to delays in
the development of TOM, beyond the influence of
chronological age and SES (Cicchetti, Rogosch, et al.,
2003). The occurrence of maltreatment during the tod-
dler period, onset during the toddler period, and physi-
cal abuse were features of maltreatment associated with
delay in the development of TOM. The centrality of the
relation between maltreatment during the toddler period
and TOM deficits flows from the importance of self-
development for false belief understanding. Internal
state language, increased individuation and self-other
differentiation, advances in language, conceptual devel-
opment and symbolic maturity, and the development of
self-conscious emotions all occur during early child-
hood. Maltreated youngsters manifest difficulties in
these aspects of self-development, each of which is a
precursor of TOM development (Cicchetti, 1991). Thus,
harsh caregiving, especially early in a childs life, im-
pairs the development of TOM abilities.
In summary, child maltreatment exerts harmful ef-
fects on the development of an autonomous and coherent
self system. In the most extreme cases, maltreatment ex-
periences may lead to basic and severe disturbances in
self-definition and self-regulation (Fischer & Ayoub,
1994; Westen, 1994), including the development of dis-
sociative disorders.
Representational Models
Representational models (Bowlby, 1969/1982; Brether-
ton, 1985; Crittenden, 1990) are thought to play an im-
portant role in the continuity of development across
different domains of functioning. For example, in nor-
mative populations, the quality of childrens attachment
relationships to their primary caregiver has been associ-
ated with the complexity of their knowledge of self and
others (Beeghly & Cicchetti, 1994; Sroufe, 1996).
Among maltreated children, their attachment histories
contribute to the victimization observed in these chil-
drens relationships with their peers (Main & George,
1985; Shields & Cicchetti, 2001; Troy & Sroufe, 1987).
Additionally, maltreated childrens perception of the
quality of their relationships with their mother exerts a
significant effect on these youngsters feelings of relat-
edness to others (i.e., peer groups, best friend, teacher;
Lynch &Cicchetti, 1991, 1992; Toth &Cicchetti, 1996).
Initially, the young child develops expectations about
the nature of future interpersonal contacts through re-
peated interactions with the caregiver. These expecta-
tions form the basis of representational models of the
self, others, and the self in relation to others (Bowlby,
1969/1982). Childrens models reflect expectations
about the availability and probable actions of others
with complementary models of how worthy and compe-
tent the self is.
It has been theorized that children are able to form
independent representational models of different rela-
tionship figures with their complementary models of
the self (see, e.g., Lynch & Cicchetti, 1991; Toth &
Cicchetti, 1996). Representational models of individual
relationships contain information that is specific to
those relationships. Expectations about the availability
of the other person, how effective the self is likely to be
in eliciting desired responses from that person, atti-
tudes and commitment toward the relationship, and the
affective tone of the relationship are the kinds of infor-
mation that may be incorporated into models of specific
relationships.
During the course of development, information from
these specific models may become integrated as part of
more generalized models of relationships (Crittenden,
1990). These generalized models of self and other allow
the individual to forecast how others will act and react
and how successful the self is likely to be in the broader
social context.
Given their caregiving experiences, maltreated chil-
dren are highly likely to develop negative expectations
of how others will behave and of how successful the self
will be in relation to others. In generating these expecta-
tions, maltreated children may evaluate information
both from models that are specific to a given relation-
ship and from more generalized models of relationships.
Initially, both specific and general representational
models remain more or less open to new input and con-
sequent readjustment (Crittenden & Ainsworth, 1989).
Open models such as these are akin to Bowlbys
(1969/1982) notion of a working model. With increas-
ing verbal and cognitive abilities, however, childrens
representational models may become more closed to ex-
Child Maltreatment 513
perience (Crittenden & Ainsworth, 1989). Conceptual
processes and symbolic function replace actual episodes
of experience in the formulation and integration of rep-
resentational models. In the absence of effective inter-
vention, it may not be until adolescence, when children
attain formal operations, that a rethinking of previous
experiences is likely to occur.
Having representational models that are closed to
new interpersonal information may be especially detri-
mental to children who have experienced insecure at-
tachments and maltreatment. Parents explanations that
their harsh behavior is for their childrens own good
become organizing principles for childrens models of
themselves and others. Moreover, some children may
begin to employ a form of cognitive screening for
relationship-relevant information to avoid the emotional
discomfort of an angry relationship (Bowlby, 1980). It
has been shown, for example, that abused children tend
to split off from consciousness the more negative as-
pects of their perceptions (Beeghly & Cicchetti, 1994;
Stovall & Craig, 1990). As a result, these childrens rep-
resentations of themselves and others may not be open
to alternative and potentially positive experiences with
others. Instead, they approach their interactions with
others with more generalized negative expectations,
leading to less competent dealings with others. Repeated
experiences of incompetent interactions with others
serve to confirm their negative representational models,
making it even less likely that they will be open to posi-
tive interpersonal experiences in the future.
Research has begun to document differences in mal-
treated and nonmaltreated childrens representational
models. Maltreated children differ from nonmaltreated
children in their perceptions of self and other on a vari-
ety of projective assessments and in the negativity of
their view of the relational world, as demonstrated in
projective stories (McCrone, Egeland, Kalkoske, &
Carlson, 1994; Stovall & Craig, 1990). Additionally,
maltreated children tell fewer stories in which adults
and peers reciprocate the kind acts of children than do
nonmaltreated children; they also relate more stories in
which they justify their parents unkind acts on the
basis of their own bad behavior (Dean, Malik, Richards,
& Stringer, 1986).
In our laboratory, we have conducted several studies
on preschool- and school-age maltreated childrens repre-
sentations of their caregivers, of themselves, and of
themselves in relation to others. These investigations typ-
ically have utilized the MacArthur Story Stem Battery
(MSSB; Bretherton, Ridgeway, & Cassidy, 1990). The
MSSB contains story beginnings that describe a range of
emotionally laden interactions among family members.
Each story stem involves a combination of family dolls,
including a mother, a father, and two same-sex children.
The gender and race of the dolls are matched to those of
the child. For each narrative, the child is instructed to lis-
ten to the beginning of a story told by the experimenter
and then to finish it using the characters and simple toy
props. Narratives are videotaped and coded according to
the MacArthur Narrative Coding Manual (Robinson,
Mantz-Simmons, & Macfie, 1991), with a system that
involves a presence-absence method of rating content,
representation, and child performance. Content areas
include, for example, codes for aggression, child injury,
oppositionality, and empathy (Robinson et al., 1991).
Representations of parents and of self, as well as the
childs behavior, also are coded. Among the dependent
variables that have been reliably coded across a number
of investigations with normal and high-risk children are
positive and negative maternal representations, positive
and negative self-representations, controllingness, and re-
lationship with the examiner (see, e.g., Emde, Wolf, &
Oppenheim, 2003; Oppenheim, Emde, & Warren, 1997).
Toth, Cicchetti, Macfie, and Emde (1997) utilized the
MSSB to examine maternal and self-representations in
neglected, physically abused, sexually abused, and non-
maltreated preschool children. The narratives of the mal-
treated youngsters contained more negative maternal
representations and more negative self-representations
than did the narratives of nonmaltreated children. Mal-
treated preschoolers also were more controlling with and
less responsive to the examiner. In our investigation of
the differential impact of maltreatment subtype differ-
ences on maternal and self-representations, physically
abused children evidenced the most negative maternal
representations; moreover, they also had more negative
self-representations than did nonmaltreated children.
Sexually abused youngsters manifested more positive
self-representations than did the neglected children. De-
spite the differences exhibited in the nature of their ma-
ternal and self-representations, physically and sexually
abused preschoolers both were found to be more control-
ling and less responsive to the examiner than were the ne-
glected and nonmaltreated children.
The examination of the different patterns evidenced
by physically abused, sexually abused, and neglected
514 Developmental Psychopathology and Preventive Intervention
children on the self-representation variables suggests in-
teresting interpretations for the representational models
of these respective groups. The finding that the sexually
abused children had a high level of positive self-
representations raises the possibility that these repre-
sentations are not genuine but are more consistent with
the false self that has been described in the literature
(Calverly, Fischer, & Ayoub, 1994; Crittenden & Di-
Lalla, 1988).
Whereas physically abused children have high levels
of negative self-representation, it was the neglected chil-
dren who had low levels of positive self-representation.
Thus, these two groups of maltreated children differ in
the positive versus negative valence of their self-views.
The fact that neglected children have restricted positive
self-representations is consistent with the reality of
these childrens lives, in which they most likely receive
minimal attention to their basic needs. Conversely,
physically abused children, although also confronted
with parenting dysfunction, may experience periods
during which they are responded to, possibly even posi-
tively, by their physically abusive parents. Thus, it may
well be that physically abused children are more likely
to develop some sense of self as positive, whereas ne-
glected children have far fewer opportunities to do so.
Additionally, the tendency for neglect to be a more on-
going, chronic condition involving parental acts of omis-
sion, whereas physical abuse may involve intermittent
acts of commission, also may be influencing the differ-
ences evidenced between these groups of children. The
fact that physically abused children also seem to accu-
rately perceive the negativity of their caregiving envi-
ronments, as evidenced by their elevated negative
maternal representations, attests to a possible strength
that they possess. It may be more realistic to help chil-
dren move beyond a history of maltreatment if they are
in touch with its negativity than if they are prone to deny
the realities that confront them.
In view of the differences evidenced among mal-
treated children, some interesting implications for in-
tervention also can be derived from this investigation.
Specifically, for sexually abused children, intervention
may need to address the genuineness of their represen-
tations of parent and of self, especially if the children
are evidencing behavioral difficulties such as might be
suggested by their controllingness and lack of respon-
sivity to the examiner. For physically abused children,
their high levels of negative representations and the
possible generalization of these negative representa-
tions to other relationship figures might best be ad-
dressed by utilizing a therapeutic relationship to foster
a more positive self-representation, which, in turn,
could result in greater receptivity to developing posi-
tive relationships with others. Finally, the low levels of
positive self-representation evidenced by neglected
children, in conjunction with their relatively average
levels on other variables (e.g., differing neither from
nonmaltreated children nor from other maltreated chil-
dren), suggest that these children are at considerable
risk for falling between the cracks of intervention sys-
tems that could bolster their sense of self. It is these
children who may be most easily ignored, thereby per-
petuating the experiences of neglect that have perme-
ated their lives.
In a related investigation, Macfie et al. (1999) exam-
ined the narrative representations of preschool-age mal-
treated and nonmaltreated youngsters. Utilizing the
MSSB narratives, Macfie and colleagues found that,
compared with nonmaltreated youngsters, maltreated
children represented both parents and children as re-
sponding less often to relieve distress in child characters.
Moreover, it was discovered that maltreated children
broke the narrative frame and stepped in more often to
relieve distress in the narrative child characters. In addi-
tion, the maltreatment subgroups showed different pat-
terns. Both abused children (sexually or physically, or
both; most also were neglected) and neglected children
(without sexual or physical abuse) depicted parents as re-
sponding less often to relieve distress in children than did
nonmaltreated children. Furthermore, neglected children
portrayed children responding less often to relieve dis-
tress in child characters than did the abused or the non-
maltreated children. It also was found that the abused
children interjected themselves more often to relieve dis-
tress in child characters than did the nonmaltreated chil-
dren or the neglected children. Moreover, it was the
abused children who portrayed more role reversal than
did the nonmaltreated children.
If neglected children who have not been sexually or
physically abused do not represent parents or other chil-
dren as likely to respond to children in distress, then
these neglected children may grow up relatively passive
in the face of others distress. If, however, abused (par-
ticularly physically abused) children portray parents as
unlikely to respond to childrens distress, yet see chil-
dren as taking on a role reversal with their parents, then
Child Maltreatment 515
the abused children may develop representational mod-
els that associate relationships with the need to give
care rather than to receive it (Cicchetti, 1989). Norma-
tive development appears to depend on the internaliza-
tion of responsive parents without children being
expected to assume the role of excessive responding to
parents needs. Role reversal may superficially simulate
maturity; however, while feeling compelled to under-
stand and care for others, maltreated children may not
learn how to meet their own needs. What is adaptive in
the maltreating environment may prove to be maladap-
tive in the wider world (Cicchetti, 1991).
In another investigation of maltreated childrens rep-
resentational models, Shields et al. (2001) discovered that
maladaptive representations are related to a continuity in
relationship disturbances across the family and peer do-
mains. Specifically, these investigators found that mal-
treated school-age childrens representations, coded from
the Rochester Parenting Story Narratives developed in
our laboratory, were more negative/constricted and less
positive/coherent than those of nonmaltreated children.
Furthermore, childrens representations of their parents
mediated maltreatments influences on peer rejection.
Shields and colleagues (2001) also identified a mech-
anism whereby representations appear to exert their in-
fluences: by undermining childrens emotion regulation
on entry to new social groups. Anxiety, arousal, and
angry reactivity serve important functions when attach-
ment relationships are disrupted, thereby helping chil-
dren regulate proximity to caregivers and to mobilize
resources in response to danger or threat (Cassidy,
1994; Kobak, 1999; Thompson & Calkins, 1996). How-
ever, maladaptive representations can trigger similar
emotional reactions in even neutral or friendly peer
contexts because representations provide a filter
through which information about new social encounters
is processed. Maladaptive defense styles, which pre-
sumably underlie the lack of coherence in childrens
representations, would also compromise childrens abil-
ity to manage their emotional arousal in social contexts.
Peers, in turn, may respond to maltreated childrens
dysregulated emotions and behaviors with avoidance,
rejection, and even victimization (Rogosch & Cicchetti,
1994; Shields & Cicchetti, 2001). Thus, maladaptive
representations may contribute to the emotion dysregu-
lation that has been documented among maltreated chil-
dren (Shields & Cicchetti, 1998), setting in motion a
complex chain of transactions that reinforce and main-
tain poor peer relationships and negative representa-
tions of social relationships.
How, then, might prevention and intervention inter-
rupt these intergenerational cycles of disturbed relation-
ships? One potentially fruitful arena might be to
enhance the accuracy and efficiency of social informa-
tion processing in maltreated children, with a special
focus on how processing patterns influence childrens
emotional responsiveness in relationships outside of the
family (Dodge, Bates, & Pettit, 1990; Dodge, Pettit, &
Bates, 1997; Rogosch, Cicchetti, & Aber, 1995). Inter-
ventions that enhance maltreated childrens coping and
problem solving with peers also may increase the likeli-
hood that abused and neglected children will develop
and experience more positive peer relationships.
In a longitudinal investigation of the representational
models of maltreated children, Macfie, Cicchetti, and
Toth (2001) found that maltreated preschoolers evi-
denced more dissociation in their MSSB story-stem
completions than did nonmaltreated children. Further,
maltreatment subtype analyses revealed that the sexu-
ally abused and the physically abused youngsters dis-
played more dissociation than the nonmaltreated group;
however, the neglected children did not. Thus, it appears
that maltreatment that reflects the commission of abuse
is more likely to be associated with dissociation than is
maltreatment that reflects deficiencies of care.
Additionally, dissociation trajectories during the pre-
school period differed for maltreated and nonmaltreated
children. Maltreated children, especially those who had
experienced sexual or physical abuse, exhibited increas-
ingly more dissociation over the course of this 1-year
longitudinal investigation, whereas nonmaltreated chil-
dren showed a decrease in dissociation. Thus, in mal-
treated children, there was no evidence for the self
becoming more coherent during the preschool period
(cf. Cicchetti, 1991). However, nonmaltreated children
did maintain a more coherent self than did the mal-
treated children.
Toth, Cicchetti, Macfie, Maughan, and VanMeenan
(2000) conducted an additional 1-year longitudinal in-
vestigation of the narrative representations of parents
and of self, as well as of child behavior during the
MSSB assessment, in maltreated and nonmaltreated
comparison youngsters. Interestingly, at the first mea-
surement period, when children were approximately 4
years old, the only significant difference obtained
was that the maltreated preschoolers evidenced fewer
516 Developmental Psychopathology and Preventive Intervention
positive representations of parent and of self. However,
1 year later, maltreated and nonmaltreated children
were found to exhibit more negative representations of
parent and of self as well as more negative behavior with
the examiner. Consequently, during the preschool pe-
riod, a time noted for developmental transformations in
the self, the representational models of maltreated chil-
dren appear to become increasingly more negative.
These findings suggest that it may be critical to inter-
vene with maltreated children early in the preschool pe-
riod, when their representational models may be more
open to being modified by experiences with relationship
partners who challenge their negative experiences with
caregivers. As we discussed earlier, several investiga-
tions have revealed that there is substantial concordance
in maltreated children between relationship insecurity
with primary caregivers and with noncaregiving figures.
The fact that maltreated children are likely to generalize
such negative representational models of attachment fig-
ures to future relationship partners underscores the need
for intervening before relationship models become less
open to change. Therefore, the initiation of intervention
prior to the consolidation of negative representational
models of self and other may be much more effective
than would intervention that is begun subsequent to the
crystallization of negative representational models.
TRANSLATING MALTREATMENT
RESEARCH INTO PRACTICE: THE
DEVELOPMENT AND IMPLEMENTATION
OF PREVENTIVE INTERVENTIONS
Empirical research has documented that maltreatment
in the early years of life poses severe risks for the de-
velopment and adaptation of young children. Efforts to
prevent further maltreatment and its deleterious conse-
quences are thus of critical importance. Guided by an
organizational perspective on development, and by em-
pirical research that documents that maltreated chil-
dren manifest impairments in attachment organization,
self-development, and representational models, in our
laboratory we have implemented two randomized con-
trolled intervention trials early in the life course of
maltreated children, one in infancy and the other during
the preschool period, to prevent the compromised devel-
opmental attainments that accompany maltreatment and
that are precursors to later maladjustment. Due to space
constraints, our selective research review focuses on as-
pects of individual development that are compromised
as a function of child maltreatment. However, it is im-
portant to note that maltreatment and its effects involve
transactions across multiple levels of an individuals
social ecology. Our broader programs of research take
these ecological influences into account and, where
relevant, they also have guided the development of our
preventive interventions. These intervention trials are
discussed next.
Preventive Interventions for Maltreated Infants
A number of interventions informed by attachment the-
ory have been developed for high-risk, multiproblem
populations (Egeland & Erickson, 1990; Erickson, Korf-
macher, & Egeland, 1992; Lieberman, Weston, & Pawl,
1991; Lyons-Ruth, Connell, Grunebaum, & Botein,
1990). With respect to attachment, theoreticians con-
tinue to debate whether modifying parents attachment
organization, including their representations of their
child, will result in improved parenting or, conversely,
whether improving parenting may, independent of atten-
tion to parental attachment representations, lead to more
secure attachment relationships between parent and
child. In a meta-analysis of 12 studies of the effective-
ness of preventive or therapeutic interventions in enhanc-
ing parental sensitivity or childrens attachment
security, van IJzendoorn, Juffer, and Duyvesteyn (1995)
concluded that interventions were more effective in
improving maternal sensitivity than in fostering chil-
drens attachment security. Of particular importance,
van IJzendoorn et al. also found that the link between
parental representational models and infant attachment
was stronger than the link between maternal sensitivity
and attachment and that the former remained significant
after sensitivity was included as a moderator variable.
In a more recent meta-analysis of the effectiveness
of preventive interventions for enhancing parental sensi-
tivity and infant attachment security, Bakermans-
Kranenburg, van IJzendoorn, and Juffer (2003) con-
cluded that the most effective interventions used a mod-
erate number of sessions and a behavioral focus.
However, within the meta-analysis, only three random-
ized studies, all conducted with multiproblem popula-
tions, were described as intensive and having numerous
sessions. These interventions also were very broad and
included a combination of behavioral, representational,
and supportive interventions. Therefore, we believed that
the effectiveness of specific types of behavioral versus
nonbehavioral interventions remained open to further in-
Translating Maltreatment Research into Practice: The Development and Implementation of Preventive Interventions 517
vestigation and we provided competing models of inter-
vention, one being more problem-oriented and the other
being more focused on maternal representation.
With the common goals of improving attachment
insecurity to avert maladaptive development in mal-
treated infants, we implemented two interventions that
differed in their strategies for attaining this goal. The
first model, psychoeducational parenting intervention
(PPI ), is consistent with an ecological perspective; it is
based on etiological models of maltreatment that em-
phasize the role of parental stress and parenting skills
deficits in maltreatment and that therefore advocate for
the provision of increased social support and parent
training to alleviate stress, promote more positive par-
enting, and decrease child maltreatment. The second
model, infant-parent psychotherapy (IPP), is based on
research that points to the importance of parent-child at-
tachment in fostering positive child development, im-
proved parent-child interaction, and decreases in child
maltreatment. This model involves dyadic mother-infant
therapy sessions designed to improve the parent-child at-
tachment relationships by altering the influences of neg-
ative maternal representational models on parent-child
interaction. We compared the pre- and postintervention
functioning of mothers and maltreated infants in both
models of intervention with the functioning of mothers
and maltreated infants who were receiving services typ-
ically available in the community (community standard
[CS] group). A fourth, nonmaltreated comparison (NC)
group, comprising demographically comparable mothers
and their nonmaltreated infants, also were assessed. All
maltreated infants and their mothers were randomly as-
signed to either the PPI, IPP, or the CS group.
Interventions were initiated when infants were ap-
proximately 12 months of age and continued for a period
of 1 year. Assessments of the quality of attachment, uti-
lizing the Strange Situation, were conducted at baseline
(12 months) and at the conclusion of the intervention (24
months) to evaluate the efficacy of the interventions.
The group of mothers and infants who participated
in this investigation were demographically comparable
with respect to gender, SES, race/ethnicity, and house-
hold composition. All babies resided with their biologi-
cal mother. In addition, the mothers of the maltreated
infants were identified as perpetrators of maltreatment.
Families were not excluded from study participation
because of ethnic or racial considerations, and the
racial /ethnic backgrounds of the participants were re-
flective of the national demographics of victims of child
maltreatment. To be included in the preventive interven-
tion, mothers and infants could not have any significant
cognitive or physical limitations that would hamper
their ability to understand and/or participate in the re-
search or clinical interventions.
Rather than relying solely on substantiated reports of
maltreatment as made by DHHS (i.e., those deemed
to be cases of legally designated maltreatment), we
made independent determinations of maltreatment on
all reports received by DHHS. Although this strategy is
a departure from a more legalistic approach to the clas-
sification of maltreatment, we considered it to be the
best course of action for a number of reasons. Perhaps
most important, the past decade has witnessed a de-
crease in substantiated reports of maltreatment as a con-
comitant of decreasing financial resources that have
been available to address this societal problem. More-
over, this decrease in substantiated reports has been evi-
denced even in the midst of the increased numbers of
reports being made. These trends suggest that authori-
ties are substantiating only the most severe cases of mal-
treatment, leaving many children vulnerable and without
services. This is of significant concern in view of the
findings of Manly et al. (1994) that more severe mal-
treatment is not necessarily related to worse child out-
come. Rather than excluding maltreated children due to
the false negative approach suggested by current DHHS
actions, where children who have been maltreated are
not classified as such, we made independent evaluations
of the events that were reported to authorities or consid-
ered to suggest high risk for maltreatment. To this end,
DHHS records were coded using the structured nosolog-
ical system developed by Barnett et al. (1993).
To facilitate enrollment of maltreated infants and
their mothers into our program, DHHS agreed to allow
one of their child protective team supervisors to be re-
tained by us and to serve as the liaison between families
and our program. We paid a portion of the DHHS per-
sons salary to ensure that his or her allegiance was to
the goals of our investigation, not simply to his or her
DHHS role. Moreover, due to constraints imposed by
confidentiality, only a DHHS staff member had knowl-
edge of families being assessed due to maltreatment
concerns. Thus, the initial gatekeeper for approaching
families had to be a staff member employed by DHHS.
We asked our DHHS liaison to approach all families
who met our inclusion criteria and ask if they were will-
ing to be contacted by our project staff; thus, the DHHS
liaison did not use any selection biases to determine
518 Developmental Psychopathology and Preventive Intervention
whom to approach. We also requested the DHHS liaison
to record information on all families who refused to be
contacted by our staff. Finally, our project staff, not
DHHS, was solely responsible for randomization of
families to treatment condition. All mothers of mal-
treated infants who met our enrollment criteria were in-
formed of our investigation and asked whether they
were willing to participate.
To avoid any possible perceptions of coercion, the
voluntary nature of the program was stressed, and moth-
ers were assured that their refusal to participate would
have no adverse effects on their status with DHHS.
Rather, the benefits of participation through the poten-
tial provision of supplemental services for the mother
and her infant were emphasized. By working closely
with a DHHS liaison, timely recruitment in conjunction
with the maintenance of family confidentiality was as-
sured. A familys name was released to our projects
staff only after a consent release form was signed. It is
important to clarify that because we also examined the
CS group, referral to our project did not necessarily re-
sult in assignment to one of our intervention models.
Rather, referral indicated a willingness to participate in
our research project and the possibility of receiving en-
hanced services.
All families, maltreating and nonmaltreating alike,
were informed that, as mandated reporters, our project
staff was obliged to report any suspected cases of child
maltreatment to DHHS. Based on our experience con-
ducting research with maltreating and nonmaltreating
families from low-SES backgrounds, we have found that
families are generally accepting of these reports if they
are conducted in an open, sensitive fashion and framed
as efforts to get the family the support it needs.
Nonmaltreating families were chosen randomly from
the county list of recipients of Temporary Assistance to
Needy Families (TANF). Because prior experience has
revealed that the majority of maltreating families re-
ferred to DHHS are socioeconomically disadvantaged,
utilization of TANF lists provided us with access to a
demographically similar population. Although all fami-
lies were asked whether they had ever received protec-
tive services, we have learned that families are not
always forthcoming with this information. Therefore,
during our initial contact, consent was obtained to ver-
ify nonmaltreatment status by accessing DHHS central
registry data. Additionally, we also administered the
MMCI to mothers in the NC group as an independent
verification of nonmaltreating status. If a family re-
fused to consent to this procedure, then they were
not enrolled in the investigation. Only those families
who had never received child protective or preventive
services through DHHS were included in the compari-
son sample. Throughout the intervention trial, DHHS
records were accessed annually for both maltreatment
and comparison participants to determine whether any
maltreatment reports had been filed; the MMCI also
was administered annually.
Challenges to Implementation
To begin, it is important to underscore that, because this
intervention evaluation involved a randomized con-
trolled clinical efficacy trial, rigorous inclusion and ex-
clusion criteria were necessary to ensure sufficient
homogeneity among participants. Treatment was manu-
alized, and all therapists received extensive training and
ongoing supervision. In all of our intervention evalua-
tions, we conducted weekly individual supervision,
weekly group presentations, and discussions of video-
taped cases. Moreover, checklists were utilized to assess
adherence to the parameters of the intervention. This
approach is very different from clinical effectiveness
trials that are carried out in real-world clinical settings
and that provide much less latitude regarding who con-
stitutes a case. Unfortunately, much of our current
evidence regarding the effectiveness of interventions for
children has been derived from efficacy trials; studies
that have tried to determine the effectiveness of clinic
treatments have found much lower success rates that
are not substantially different from outcomes for chil-
dren not receiving treatment (Weisz, Donenberg, Han, &
Weiss, 1995; Weisz, Rudolph, Granger, & Sweeney,
1992). This reality underscores the importance not only
of establishing efficacy, but also of determining how
best to transfer the knowledge gained from efficacy tri-
als into implementation in real-world clinical settings.
In conducting efficacy trials such as this, initial re-
cruitment can be challenging. To begin, it often is diffi-
cult for community partners to understand why someone
is not eligible for the intervention. Efforts to adhere to
strict inclusion/exclusion criteria can come across as off-
putting to community service providers. Moreover, ex-
plaining randomization procedures to individuals not
accustomed to conducting research can be difficult. We
have found that it is important to try to convey that, ini-
tially, the intervention is conceived in the best possible
Translating Maltreatment Research into Practice: The Development and Implementation of Preventive Interventions 519
way to optimize the likelihood of establishing its effi-
cacy. Once this occurs, the intervention can be utilized
with more heterogeneous groups of multiproblem clients.
Unless the intervention evaluation adheres to scientific
standards, efforts to demonstrate its efficacy will not be
credible and its ultimate translation into clinic settings
will be compromised.
Similarly, potential clients may have difficulty un-
derstanding why they cannot receive their treatment of
choice. From an ethical practice standpoint, families
were told that the treatment that they might be eligible
for would be determined by the flip of a coin, and we
sought their agreement to accept this chance outcome. If
a potential participant was not willing to accept random-
ization to treatment condition, then they were ineligible
to continue in the research program and were referred to
other community providers.
Once they are enrolled, retaining participants in in-
tervention evaluations is especially important. Trans-
portation was provided for all research visits; even so,
cancellation and no show rates were approximately 50%.
Given the population served, attrition can be a major
consideration. Frequent moves, involvement in illegal
activities and incarceration, and placement of the child
in foster care all may erode the number of participants
available for the conduct of a longitudinal investigation.
A case example is helpful in illustrating this point.
During a home-based research visit, our research as-
sistants arrived at the residence of a single mother; at
the time of the visit, the child enrolled in our project was
24 months of age and the family had been participating
in the project for 1 year. The researchers heard a baby
crying when they knocked, but repeated loud knocking
and calling went unanswered, and the baby continued to
wail. Concerned, our staff approached a policeman who
was in the vicinity and explained the situation. The
dwelling was entered by the police and an infant of 8
months was found alone. The mother returned home
shortly with her 2-year-old child to find the police tak-
ing her unsupervised infant into custody. She shared that
she had left the infant briefly to go to the store. There
was a history of neglect in the family, and the infant was
subsequently placed in foster care and the mother
charged with lack of supervision and incarcerated. The
2-year-old also was placed in care. Our research staff
was distraught and felt very bad. We contacted the
mother while she was in jail and she conveyed that she
understood what had transpired; she acknowledged that
she needed help to care for her children adequately. Al-
though we remained in contact with her, she did not re-
gain custody in time to allow for continued participation
in the evaluation.
Unfortunate on many levels, this case description
conveys the reality of conducting intervention evalua-
tions with maltreating populations. All staff are trained
in the ethics of reporting suspected maltreatment. When
possible, we talk with caregivers first and let them know
that we are legally and ethically bound to file a report if
we suspect child maltreatment.
The fact that the families enrolled in our preventive
intervention were primarily members of ethnic and
racial minority groups also required knowledge of cul-
tural mores and expectations. Although we tried to
recruit a diverse staff, the majority of our research
staff were nonminorities. Moreover, as recent college
graduates, their backgrounds were such that they had
limited experience traversing inner-city environments.
We stressed the criticality of nonjudgmental attitudes
and sensitivity to the contexts in which the families
resided. However, at times, cognition and training gave
way to panic. One particularly poignant event was re-
called by a mother who had participated in our research
over a number of years. She laughingly repeated a story
about being interviewed in her home when a car back-
fired on the street; fearing that gunshots had occurred,
one of our young researchers jumped to the floor. We in-
corporated this vignette into our training sessions to
help young staff members understand that their actions
are not unnoticed and that they can convey derision by
subtle looks or actions, even if unintentionally.
We also exert considerable effort in retaining contact
with participants. Newsletters with community events
and child activities are sent out regularly. We also send
birthday cards and holiday cards and periodically hold
raffles for self-care products. Raffle numbers are listed
in our periodic newsletters, and we ensure that all par-
ticipants win at least one of the raffles. It has been en-
lightening to see how meaningful these gestures are to
an impoverished, generally isolated population. We have
found that even nonintervention cases benefit from the
attention they receive and from feeling part of an impor-
tant endeavor.
Description of the Interventions
Now that we have provided examples of challenges that
arise in the evaluation of preventive interventions with
520 Developmental Psychopathology and Preventive Intervention
low-income maltreating populations, we turn our atten-
tion to the interventions themselves. As previously
described, two theoretically informed models of inter-
vention were evaluated in the proposed investigation.
Manuals were developed and implemented for each of
the two interventions. Because DHHS becomes active
via case monitoring, management, or referral when re-
ports of child maltreatment are received, this served as
a constant across all conditions. Therefore, all families
in which maltreatment had been identified received
some services, even if they were not randomized to our
theoretically guided intervention conditions.
The provision of intervention to multiproblem popu-
lations such as those with whom we intervened requires
flexibility and responsivity to the frequent crises and
challenges that confront these families. Because DHHS
was active with all families, they provided a consistent
monitoring function with respect to issues such as ade-
quate food and housing. Although we strove to evaluate
the potential efficacy of two theoretically different
models of treatment, from an ethical practice stand-
point, issues such as domestic violence, inadequate
housing, and substance abuse needed to be addressed
as they arose. Our models of treatment were focused on
the improvement of parenting and the elimination of
maltreatment and its sequelae, but we also had to be re-
sponsive to myriad related issues that we encountered
during our clinical contacts with this population. To
this end, therapists in both intervention models not
only received extensive training on the respective mod-
els of treatment that they were providing, but also on
the importance of cultural sensitivity and on how to
deal with the extensive needs experienced by these
families. In our view, neither treatment model could be
effective in the absence of responsivity to the needs of
maltreating families. The ability to respond to such
needs also increases the portability of the models into
clinic settings. Because the interventions were home-
based, comfort and skill in navigating inner-city neigh-
borhoods where drug use and violence were normative
were necessary.
Community Standard. In the CS condition,
DHHS managed cases in accord with their standard ap-
proach. Although variability existed, with service provi-
sion ranging from no service to referral to existing
community clinics, this condition represents the com-
munity standard with which the PPI and IPP models
were compared. The use of a CS comparison group en-
abled us to determine the effects of standard practices
on child and family functioning, as compared with
theoretically informed delivery of services. Such an ap-
proach is consistent with that of other treatment studies,
such as the National Institutes of Health MTA study of
children with Attention-Deficit /Hyperactivity Disorder
(Arnold et al., 1997). The approaches that DHHS used
with families who have been reported for maltreatment
and are participating in the proposed investigation were
systematically recorded via a standardized services
questionnaire.
Psychoeducational Parenting Intervention Model.
In addition to services typically made available to mal-
treating parents (CS), weekly home visitation was pro-
vided via the PPI model. This intervention approach has
reemerged in recent years as an effective model for pre-
venting damage to vulnerable children (National Com-
mission to Prevent Infant Mortality, 1989; Shirk et al.,
2000; U.S. Congress, 1988). In fact, the U.S. Advisory
Board on Child Abuse and Neglect (1990) identified
home visitation services as the best documented strategy
for preventing child maltreatment. Data on the effective-
ness of home visitation have emerged (Olds et al., 1997,
1998); yet to be conducted are studies on the effective-
ness of home visitation services for families where mal-
treatment has already occurred, as well as assessments of
whether home visitation services can alter the future life
course development in infants who have been maltreated.
The PPI model utilized in this investigation was pro-
vided by therapists on a weekly basis in 1-hour home-
based sessions, with a focus on two primary goals: the
provision of parent education regarding infant develop-
ment and developmentally appropriate parenting skills
and the development of adequate maternal self-care
skills, including assisting mothers with personal needs,
fostering adaptive functioning, and improving social
supports.
In accord with the home visitation model of Olds and
his colleagues (Olds & Kitzman, 1990), therapists were
trained in the provision of an ecologically informed
model of influences on mother and child. This model
strives to address how factors at different levels of prox-
imity to the mother and child interact to form a system
of influences on functioning. Practically, this results in
the simultaneous examination of maternal personal re-
sources, social support, and stresses in the home, fam-
ily, and community that can affect maternal caregiving.
We employed as interveners masters-level therapists
Translating Maltreatment Research into Practice: The Development and Implementation of Preventive Interventions 521
who were adept at attending to the needs of multiprob-
lem families, were knowledgeable regarding accessing
community resources, and had expertise in addressing
intrafamilial violence. Weekly 60-minute home visits
were conducted over a period of 12 months.
The PPI model was a psychoeducationally based
model grounded in the present that strives to educate,
improve parenting, decrease maternal stress, and in-
crease life satisfaction. The approach is didactic in na-
ture, providing mothers with specific information, facts,
procedures, and practices. Within a core agenda of top-
ics on parenting and improved social skills to be ad-
dressed, flexibility and latitude in the amount of time
spent on various topics was stressed in order to respond
to individual needs of each mother. This flexibility is
consistent with that utilized by other home-based inter-
veners working with disadvantaged populations. An ini-
tial assessment of client needs within the domains of
parenting and maternal self-care was conducted to de-
lineate specific areas most in need of intervention.
Thus, although there was a consistent range of issues to
be addressed with each mother, the model allows for
special emphasis on areas particularly germane to indi-
vidual mothers.
Infant-Parent Psychotherapy Model. In addition
to services typically available for maltreating parents
(CS), mother-infant dyads in this intervention received
weekly IPP. This intervention approach emanated from
the seminal writings of Selma Fraiberg in her classic
article, Ghosts in the Nursery (Fraiberg, Adelson, &
Shapiro, 1975). Building on the work of Fraiberg, Al-
bert Solnit, and Sally Provence, to name a few pio-
neers in the field, Alicia Lieberman (1991) provided
the first evidence-based investigation of infant-parent
psychotherapy.
Proponents of IPP believe that parent skills training
alone is insufficient to alter the complex matrix of influ-
ences that lead to maladaptive mother-infant attachment
relationships and future maladaptation. Although in our
IPP intervention, developmental guidance was provided
as necessary, it is important to stress that such guidance
reflected responsivity to issues raised by the mother and
did not involve didactic teaching, parent skills training,
or modeling. Rather, IPP focused on the relationship be-
tween mother and infant and the effect of maternal his-
tory on current caregiving.
In accord with the IPP approach, the following goals
were addressed:
1. The therapist expanded the mothers empathic re-
sponsiveness, sensitivity, and attunement to her infant.
2. The therapist promoted maternal fostering of infant
autonomy and positive negotiation of maternal and
child goals.
3. Distorted perceptions and reactions to the infant
stemming from maternal representational models
were altered and more positive representations of the
infant were developed.
Each mother-child dyad was seen on a weekly basis
by a masters-level therapist who was supervised by a
PhD-level clinical psychologist. Sessions were home-
based in order to experience mother-child interaction
and its challenges in a real-world context. Reaching out
to mothers in their homes also conveys respect and sen-
sitivity for their situations. Meetings were 60 minutes in
duration. The joint observation of the mother and infant
is vital to this approach. As comments about the infants
behavior and the mothers experience of the infant
emerge through this naturalistic observation, the thera-
pist becomes able to respond empathically to the mother
and expand parental understanding of stage-salient is-
sues as they arise, as well as explore maternal misper-
ceptions of the infant.
Unlike the PPI model, which focused on current be-
havior, the core of the IPP model resides in the mothers
interactional history and its effect on her representation
of relationships, most significantly that of her infant.
Thus, rather than focusing only on the present, this
model of therapy links the maternal past with current
maternal perceptions of, and responses to, her infant.
Unlike the PPI model, where therapist and mother meet
to address parenting issues and caregiver self-care, the
IPP approach relies on the mother-infant dyad as the
port of entry (Stern, 1995) for therapeutic work.
Therapeutic insights into the influence of maternal rep-
resentation on parenting can be gained as maternal rep-
resentations and distortions are enacted in the context of
infant-parent interaction.
A number of aspects of IPP distinguish it as a
unique approach to intervention. To begin, the pa-
tient in IPP is not a person, but a relationship that ex-
ists between mother and baby. Because many mothers
may not wish to be seen individually in more tradi-
tional therapies, the focus on the relationship reduces
the stigma and self-blame that might engender resis-
tance to seeking treatment (Stern, 1995). Because
much of the action of early mother-child relationships
522 Developmental Psychopathology and Preventive Intervention
occurs preverbally in interactions, the value of being
able to observe interactions is critical to understanding
and being able to address relationship disturbances.
In the language of attachment theory, the intervention
is designed to provide the mother with a corrective emo-
tional experience in the context of the relationship with
the therapist. Maltreating mothers, with their childhood
histories of disturbed parent-child relationships and fre-
quent negative experiences of social services helpers,
typically expect rejection, abandonment, criticism, and
ridicule. Overcoming these negative expectations in the
course of establishing a positive therapeutic alliance
with the therapist is essential. Often, initial concrete
support and service provision create the opportunity
for mothers to begin to trust the therapist. The therapist,
through empathy, respect, concern, accommodation,
and unfailing positive regard, creates a holding environ-
ment for the mother and infant in which new experiences
of self in relationship to others and to the infant may be
internalized. Evolving positive representations of the
therapist can then be utilized to contrast with maternal
representations of the self in relationship to parents. As
the mother is able to reconstruct representations of the
self in relationship to others through the therapeutic re-
lationship, she also is able to reconstruct representations
of herself in relationship with her infant.
Intervention Outcome
One of our primary intervention outcome measures
was that of attachment. The Strange Situation was uti-
lized and subsequently coded by individuals unaware of
maltreatment status or treatment condition. Different
coders rated baseline and postintervention tapes and in-
terrater reliability was established. At baseline, there
were no differences among the three maltreatment
groups (IPP, PPI, CS) in the percentage of infants who
were securely attached to their mother in the Strange
Situation procedure (Ainsworth et al., 1978). This find-
ing attests to the success of our randomization proce-
dure. Notably, 3.6% of the infants in the IPP, and 0% of
the babies in PPI and CS groups, had secure attachments
at baseline. Thus, consistent with the prior maltreatment
literature that included the coding of Type D attach-
ments (Barnett et al., 1999; Carlson et al., 1989), very
few maltreated babies had developed secure attach-
ments with their mother.
Although significantly more of the nonmaltreated
comparison babies were securely attached than were any
of the babies in the maltreatment groups, the 39% rate
of security in the nonmaltreated group underscores that
this is a very high-risk comparison group. Indeed, their
lower than average rate of attachment security (most
nonrisk samples manifest security rates between 50%
and 60%) is not surprising. Recall that these comparison
youngsters were very closely matched to the maltreated
infants on a variety of sociodemographic indices.
Additionally, at baseline, the three groups of mal-
treated infants all displayed extremely high rates of at-
tachment disorganization. In particular, the Type D
attachment organizations were 86% for the IPP, 82% for
the PPI, and 91% for the CS groups. These high rates of
disorganized attachment are consistent with findings
in the literature on maltreated infants (Bakermans-
Kranenburg et al., 2003; Barnett et al., 1999; Carlson
et al., 1989; Lyons-Ruth et al., 1991). In contrast, the rate
of disorganized attachment in the NC group was 20%.
The postintervention findings were quite compelling.
The maltreated infants in the CS group had a 1.9%
security rate, a nonsignificant improvement over their
0% baseline security results. In contrast, infants in each
of the two interventions exhibited large increases in at-
tachment security from baseline to postintervention
(IPP: 3.6% to 60.7%; PPI: 0% to 54.5%). Finally, the
percentage of attachment security in the NC group was
39% at both baseline and postintervention assessments.
Statistical analyses revealed that the IPP and the PPI
interventions were equally successful in modifying
attachment insecurity. This finding is interesting given
the meta-analysis of Bakermans-Kranenburg et al.
(2003), where the PPI model would have been predicted
to be more effective. The attachment security rates in
the IPP and PPI interventions were significantly greater
than those found in the CS group. Furthermore, there
were no statistically significant differences among the
IPP, PPI, and NC groups, even though the intervention
groups attained higher percentages of attachment secu-
rity than did the NC group.
Furthermore, assessments conducted at the conclu-
sion of the intervention revealed that the percentage of
Type D attachment had declined from 86% to 32% for
the IPP group and 82% to 46% for the PPI group. Con-
versely, the infants in the CS group continued to ex-
hibit high rates of disorganization (91% to 78%); the
percentages of Type D attachment in the NC group at
baseline and postintervention were virtually identical
(20% and 19%).
Translating Maltreatment Research into Practice: The Development and Implementation of Preventive Interventions 523
An examination of the stability of attachment organi-
zation across the four groups of infants provides further
corroboration of the efficacy of the two interventions.
Specifically, 57.1% of the infants in the IPP interven-
tion and 54.5% of the infants in the PPI intervention
changed their attachment organization from insecure to
secure. In contrast, only 1.9% of the infants in the CS
group evidenced a similar progression from insecure to
secure attachment.
Likewise, 57.1% of the babies who received the IPP
intervention and 45.5% of the infants who were in the
PPI intervention exhibited a change in their attachment
classification from Type D disorganized/disoriented to
an organized pattern of attachment. Both of the inter-
vention groups evidenced a greater diminution in Type
D attachment than either the CS or NC groups.
The results of this randomized preventive interven-
tion trial demonstrate that an intervention informed by
attachment theory (IPP) and an intervention that fo-
cuses on improving parenting skills, increasing maternal
knowledge of child development, and enhancing the cop-
ing and social support skills of maltreating mothers
(PPI ), both were successful in altering the predomi-
nantly insecure attachment organizations of maltreated
infants. Thus, following Bowlby (1969/1982), the repre-
sentational models of attachment figures and of the self
in relation to others of the maltreated infants in inter-
vention became positive as a function of the provision of
the preventive intervention.
Given the success of this intervention, it becomes im-
portant to consider why these therapeutic models were
effective in altering attachment security when previous
investigations did not yield such findings. A number of
components of these interventions may have contributed
to their success. First, all therapists received extensive
training before implementing the interventions, and they
were familiar not only with the intervention modality,
but also with the theory from which the interventions
was derived. All therapists also had considerable prior
experience working with low-income maltreating fami-
lies. Both models were manualized, weekly individual
and group supervision was provided, and therapists ad-
herence to their respective model was monitored for
each case throughout the provision of the intervention.
Caseloads were maintained at levels considerably lower
than is typical of outpatient mental health settings; ther-
apists were therefore able to devote considerable time
to engaging mothers and to conceptualizing treatment
plans. The positive outcome of this investigation sup-
ports the importance of investing in more costly inter-
ventions, including allowing therapists sufficient time
for training and supervision.
Clearly, as predicted by the organizational perspec-
tive, the early insecure, generally disorganized attach-
ments displayed by maltreated infants do not doom these
youngsters to have poor-quality relationship expecta-
tions and negative self-representations throughout devel-
opment. The success of the interventions, informed by
basic research knowledge on the etiology and develop-
mental sequelae of child maltreatment, suggests that at-
tachment organization is modifiable, even if a high
percentage of Type D attachment is initially characteris-
tic of the sample. Following the organizational perspec-
tive, it is expected that these maltreated youngsters, now
that they are traversing a more positive developmental
trajectory, will be more likely to continue on an adaptive
pathway and successfully resolve future salient develop-
mental tasks (cf. Sroufe, Carlson, Levy, & Egeland,
1999). The preventive interventions have demonstrated
that behavioral plasticity is possible, at least in the early
years of life.
Preventive Interventions for
Maltreated Preschoolers
The preschool years are an especially important time for
symbolic and representational development; it is during
this period that representational models of self and of
self in relation to others evolving from the attachment
relationship become increasingly structured and organ-
ized. Although developing children are likely to main-
tain specific models of individual relationships, these
models become increasingly integrated into more gener-
alized models of relationships over time (Crittenden,
1990), thereby affecting childrens future relationship
expectations. Because maltreated children internalize
relational features of their caregiving experiences, they
are likely to generalize negative representations of self
and the self in relation to others to novel situations and
relationship partners (Howes & Segal, 1993; Lynch &
Cicchetti, 1991; Toth & Cicchetti, 1996).
As documented in our literature review earlier in this
chapter, a considerable body of research has docu-
mented the deleterious effects of maltreatment on the
representational development of abused and neglected
children. The cross-sectional and longitudinal studies
524 Developmental Psychopathology and Preventive Intervention
reported provide a solid foundation on which to con-
clude that maltreatment does exert negative effects on
representational development, that these effects become
more entrenched as development proceeds, and that the
representational themes enacted in childrens narratives
are reflective of their maltreatment experiences and are
related to child behavior problems (see Toth et al.,
2000). Based on our empirical work, we concluded that
it made sound sense to develop and implement interven-
tions designed to modify maladaptive representational
development in maltreated preschoolers.
Participant Recruitment
Procedures consistent with those described for the re-
cruitment of maltreated and comparison infants were em-
ployed to enlist mothers and their preschool-age children.
Intervention Outcome
At baseline and at postintervention, 11 narrative story-
stems, selected from the MSSB (Bretherton et al., 1990)
described previously, were individually administered to
child participants. The narratives utilized depicted moral
dilemmas and emotionally charged events in the context
of parent-child and family relationships. Narrative story-
stems included vignettes designed to elicit childrens
perceptions of the parent-child relationship, of self, and
of maternal behavior in response to child transgressions,
intrafamilial conflicts, and child accidents.
Maternal representations were coded from the chil-
drens narratives. These included positive mother (the
maternal figure is described or portrayed in the narra-
tive as protective, affectionate, providing care, warm, or
helpful); negative mother (the maternal figure is de-
scribed or portrayed in the narrative as punitive, harsh,
ineffectual, or rejecting); controlling mother (the mater-
nal figure is described or portrayed in the narrative as
controlling the childs behavior, independent of disci-
plining actions); incongruent mother (the maternal fig-
ure is described or portrayed in the narrative as dealing
with child-related situations in an opposite or inconsis-
tent manner); and disciplining mother (the maternal fig-
ure is described or portrayed in the narrative as an
authority figure who disciplines the child; inappropriate
and harsh forms of punishment were not scored here, but
rather were coded as negative mother). A presence/ab-
sence method of coding was used to score childrens ma-
ternal representations.
Self-representation scores were also coded from the
childrens narratives and were derived from coding any
behaviors or references that were made in relation to
any child character or when the child participant ap-
peared to be experiencing relevant feelings in response
to narrative content. Representational codes of self in-
cluded positive self (a child figure is described or por-
trayed in the narrative as empathic or helpful, proud, or
feeling good about self in any domain); negative self (a
child figure is described or portrayed in the narrative
as aggressive toward self or other, experiencing feelings
of shame or self-blame, or feeling bad about self in any
domain); and false self (a child figure is described
or portrayed in the narrative as overly compliant or re-
ports inappropriate positive feelings, for example, in an
anger- or fear-producing situation). Consistent with ma-
ternal representation coding procedures, a presence/ab-
sence method of scoring was used to assess childrens
self-representations.
In addition to maternal and self-representation codes,
a modified version of Bickham and Fieses (1999) global
relationship expectation scale was utilized to capture
childrens expectations of the mother-child relationship.
For the current investigation, the scale was modified to
assess childrens global expectations of the mother-child
relationship as portrayed in the childrens 11 narratives.
In accord with Bickham and Fieses coding procedures,
childrens expectations of the mother-child relationship
were determined by the overall degree of predictability
and trustworthiness portrayed between mother and
child characters across all 11 narrative administrations.
Specifically, the following five relationship dimensions
were used to aid in coding childrens overall expectation
of the mother-child relationship; predictable versus un-
predictable, disappointing versus fulfilling, supportive or
protective versus threatening, warm or close versus cold
or distant, and genuine or trustworthy versus artificial or
deceptive. Global mother-child relationship expectation
ratings were based on a 5-point scale, ranging from very
low (participants narratives describe or portray the
mother-child relationship as dissatisfying, unpredictable,
and/or dangerous) to very high (participants narratives
describe or portray the mother-child relationship as ful-
filling, safe, rewarding, and reliable).
Clinical Relevance of Results
Because a considerable body of prevention and interven-
tion research has emerged based on attachment theory
(cf. Lieberman, 1991; Lieberman et al., 1991; Lieberman
& Zeanah, 1999), efforts designed to examine the impli-
cations of prevention and intervention for developmental
Translating Maltreatment Research into Practice: The Development and Implementation of Preventive Interventions 525
theory are especially timely. Congruent with Bowlbys
(1969/1982) theory and the organizational perspective on
development (Cicchetti & Schneider-Rosen, 1986; Sroufe
& Rutter, 1984), maltreated children, who develop inse-
cure attachment relationships with their caregivers, also
manifest impairments in self system functioning and in
their representational models of attachment figures, the
self, and the self in relation to others (Cicchetti, 1991).
Thus, an intervention aimed at altering representational
models of maltreated children is of vital importance.
However, decisions needed to be made regarding the type
of intervention that would be most likely to improve at-
tachment security in maltreated children.
Children in the preschooler-parent psychotherapy
(PPP) intervention evidenced a greater decline in mal-
adaptive maternal representations over time than did
children in the PPI and CS interventions. Moreover, chil-
dren who took part in the PPP intervention displayed a
greater decrease in negative self-representations than did
children in the CS, PPI, and NC groups. Additionally, the
mother-child relationship expectations of PPP children
became more positive over the course of the intervention
as compared with children in the PPI and NC groups.
These results suggest that a model of intervention in-
formed by attachment theory (PPP) is more effective at
improving representations of self and of caregivers than
is a didactic model of intervention (PPI ) directed at par-
enting skills. Again, these results are contrary to predic-
tions that would emanate from the meta-analysis of
interventions targeting maternal sensitivity and child at-
tachment (Bakermans-Kranenberg et al., 2003). Because
the intervention focused on changing representational
models utilizing a narrative story-stem measure, out-
comes that might be expected to improve more dramati-
cally in the PPI model (e.g., parenting skills, knowledge
of child development) could not be addressed. Consistent
with the approach described in our discussion of factors
contributing to the success of the mother-infant interven-
tions, we believe that the utilization of skilled and well-
trained therapists, adherence to manualized treatment
models, and monitoring of the fidelity of the provision of
the interventions contributed to the efficacious findings.
Moreover, given prior research that has found that the
type of maternal attachment insecurity that is present
may affect maternal responsivity to various intervention
strategies (Bakermans-Kranenburg, Juffer, & van IJzen-
doorn, 1998), it will be important to assess baseline
attachment organization of mothers in relation to inter-
vention outcome.
These intervention results point to the potential mal-
leability of these representations of self and of self in
relation to others most significantly when an interven-
tion derived from attachment theory (PPP) is provided.
Rather than assuming that sensitive periods exist
during infancy when the attachment relationship be-
comes less amenable to change, our findings suggest
that, at least during the preschool years, the internalized
mother-child relationship continues to evolve and re-
mains open to reorganizations.
The fact that maltreated children in the PPP interven-
tion evidenced increases in positive and decreases in
negative self-representations is consistent with the find-
ings of Cicchetti and Rogosch (1997) on pathways to re-
silience in maltreated school-age children. Differential
predictors of resilient functioning were found in mal-
treated versus nonmaltreated children, with the former
being more resilient when positive personality and self-
system processes were present, and the latter being
linked more to relationship variables. The improvements
found in the self system processes of children in the
PPP intervention are a positive sign that resilient striv-
ings may have been initiated. If so, then the gains evi-
denced by these youngsters may continue to serve
beneficial protective functions in future years. The pos-
itive changes in the PPP childrens representations of
maternal figures also bode well for these childrens fu-
ture receptivity to peers and other potential relationship
partners, thereby moving them forward on a more adap-
tive relationship trajectory.
Next, we direct our attention toward another group
of children at risk for maladaptive development and
psychopathology: the offspring of depressed mothers.
DEFINITIONAL AND EPIDEMIOLOGICAL
CONSIDERATIONS IN DEPRESSION
Point prevalence estimates for Major Depressive Disor-
der (MDD) in investigations that utilize structured
diagnostic interviews yield rates of current Major
Depression of less than 1% in samples of children, ap-
proximately 6% in samples of adolescents, and 2% to
4% in samples of adults (Kessler, 2002). Additionally,
epidemiological surveys utilizing diagnostic interviews
report lifetime prevalence rates of MDD that range
from as low as 6% to as high as 25% by the end of
adolescence and in adulthood (Kessler, Avenenoli, &
Merikangas, 2001).
526 Developmental Psychopathology and Preventive Intervention
The National Comorbidity Study, the only nationally
representative general population data in the United
States based on a structured diagnostic interview, dis-
covered that nearly 16% of respondents met diagnostic
criteria for a lifetime episode of MDD (Kessler, Davis,
& Kender, 1997; Kessler, McGonagle, Zhao, & Nelson,
1994). Furthermore, recurrent episodes of depression
are quite common; existing estimates are that more than
80% of persons with a history of MDD experience re-
current episodes. When one also factors in the docu-
mented high rates of subsyndromal depression (Kessler,
2002), it is clear that a high percentage of individuals
are confronted with the pain, suffering, and other dire
consequences that depression and its variants engender.
Over the past several decades, as we have witnessed
the managed care revolution in the field of mental
health, economists and behavioral scientists alike have
begun to substantiate the societal costs of illness (Gold,
Hughes, & Swingle, 1996). Consequently, far more at-
tention is being paid to investigating the consequences
of mental illness such as MDD than on estimating preva-
lence and discovering modifiable risk factors, as has tra-
ditionally been the case in psychiatric epidemiology
(Kessler, 2002).
In this new focus, depression has been shown to exert
a major cost on individuals and on society. The World
Health Organizations Global Burden of Disease (GBD)
study ranked depression as the most burdensome disease
in the world (Murray & Lopez, 1996). Among all dis-
eases, the GBD study found that depression was the
leading cause of the number of years individuals world-
wide lived with disability, and the second leading cause
of disease burden in terms of disability adjusted life
years (DALYs) in developed regions of the world. More-
over, unipolar depression was documented to be the
leading cause of disease burden DALYs among people in
the middle years of life. Projecting to the year 2020, the
GBD investigators predicted that unipolar depression
will become the leading cause of disease burden in fe-
males and in developing countries (Murray & Lopez,
1996). The high burden of disease for depression is due
to the combination of relatively high prevalence, high
impact on quality of life and morbidity, early age of
onset, and high likelihood of recurrence and chronicity
(Wells, Subkoviak, & Serlin, 2002).
The social and economic effects of depression in-
clude stigmatization and discrimination, impairment in
functioning, lower educational attainment, lost work
productivity, greater marital instability, and increased
utilization of health services (Hinshaw & Cicchetti,
2000; Simon, 2003). Depression also imposes a substan-
tial burden on individuals through the pain and suffering
it inflicts, not only on individuals, but also on the family.
Given the deleterious consequences that often ac-
company depressive disorder, it is not surprising that the
children of depressed mothers are at increased risk for
developing maladaptively. In the next section, we exam-
ine the known effects that maternal depression exerts on
biological and psychological developmental processes in
the early years of life. Subsequently, we illustrate how
we have translated this research, much of which was
undertaken in our laboratory, into the development and
implementation of preventive interventions for young
offspring of mothers with MDD.
A Developmental Psychopathology Perspective
on Maternal Depression
Depressive conditions may be viewed as forming a spec-
trum of severity from transient and universally ex-
perienced dysphoria, to elevated levels of depressive
symptoms that do not meet the diagnostic criteria for
disorder, to extended periods of Dysthymic Disorder
(i.e., chronic, low-level depression), to episodes of
Major Depressive Disorder. Given the prevalence of de-
pressive disorders across extensive periods of develop-
ment and the various risk factors associated with
depression, it is critical to have a firm grasp of the de-
velopmental processes that contribute to the emergence
and maintenance of depressive disorders.
Because of the complex interplay among psychological
(e.g., affective, cognitive, socioemotional, social-
cognitive), social (e.g., cultural, community), and biolog-
ical (e.g., genetic, neurobiological, neurophysiological,
neurochemical, neuroendocrine) components, develop-
mentalists have begun to invest great attention in examin-
ing the pathways, mechanisms, and sequelae involved
in the ontogenesis and perpetuation of mood disorders
(Beardslee, Versage, & Gladstone, 1998; Cicchetti &
Toth, 1995, 1998a; Goodman & Gotlib, 2002). In this
section, we focus on the effects of maternal MDD on two
major developmental processes in the early years of life
that have been investigated in our laboratory: attachment
and the self system. We chose to focus on these topics be-
cause research investigations have shown that these is-
sues have played an instrumental role in the generation,
development, and implementation of interventions with
depressed caregivers and their young children. Given the
Definitional and Epidemiological Considerations in Depression 527
multiplicity of systems affected by depressive disorders,
a developmental psychopathology approach serves to di-
rect attention to the early developmental attainments that
may be related to later-appearing patterns of Depressive
Disorder. In adaptively functioning children, a coherent
organization among diverse developmental systems is ex-
pected. In contrast, offspring of depressed mothers are at
increased risk for either an incoherent organization
among these developmental systems, or an organization
of pathological structures, that is, a depressotypic organi-
zation (Cicchetti & Toth, 1998a).
The development of Depressive Disorder, as well as
the individuals age at onset, is influenced not only by the
emergence of salient issues that must be confronted and
successfully resolved, but also by timed genetic events
that create challenges and provide new opportunities as
they figure prominently in every developmental phase.
Moreover, two biological systems have received attention
in research on the effects of maternal depression on off-
spring: EEG hemispheric activation asymmetry and
stress regulatory dysfunction. At birth, hemispheric in-
terconnections are incomplete and continue to develop.
Davidson and Fox (1982) demonstrated that relatively
greater left-sided activation was observed when infants
were shown a happy video, and greater right-sided activa-
tion was observed when a sad video segment was pre-
sented. Early individual differences among infants in
tendencies to approach versus withdraw from novelty and
concomitant emotionality may reflect variations in the
relative dominance and reactivity of the left and right
hemispheres to stimulation, respectively (Fox & David-
son, 1984). Furthermore, experience may influence the
manner in which the hemispheric connections develop.
Infants with greater right hemisphere activation may be
prone to overstimulation, with greater sensitivity and
distraction to environmental change contributing to dis-
tress; conversely, infants with greater left activation may
appear less distressed by environmental change and may
have difficulty shifting and refocusing attention.
Infants as young as 1 month of age whose mothers
were depressed have been found to exhibit greater rela-
tive right-frontal EEG asymmetry (due to reduced
left-frontal activation) than 1-month-old infants of non-
depressed mothers (Jones, Field, Fox, Lundy, & Dava-
los, 1997). These asymmetries were found to persist
upon longitudinal follow-up when the babies were 3
months of age. Additionally, Field, Fox, Pickens, and
Nawrocki (1995) discovered that depressed mothers and
their 3- to 6-month-old infants both displayed right-
frontal EEG asymmetry. Dawson and her colleagues
(Dawson, Grofer Klinger, Panagiotides, Hill, & Spieker,
1992; Dawson, Grofer Klinger, Panagiotides, Spieker, &
Frey, 1992) examined the EEGs of 14-month-old babies
of mothers with elevated depressive symptomatology
and of same-age babies of nonsymptomatic mothers dur-
ing various emotion-eliciting situations. Infants of the
symptomatic mothers were found to display reduced
left-frontal brain activation during baseline and playful
interactions. Securely attached infants of symptomatic
mothers evidenced left-frontal EEG hypoactivation,
whereas securely attached babies of nonsymptomatic
mothers did not. Further, during distress-eliciting ma-
ternal separation, the infants of the symptomatic moth-
ers did not display a greater right-frontal activation or
the same degree of distress that was observed in the ba-
bies of the nonsymptomatic mothers; these group differ-
ences were obtained regardless of the attachment status
of the infants of the symptomatic mothers. Taken
together, the results of the studies on hemispheric acti-
vation asymmetries in young offspring of depressed
mothers suggest that a genetic diathesis for depression
and the quality of caregiving experienced by the infant
both exert an impact on neurobiological development.
Relatedly, empirical evidence with rodents and non-
human primates suggests that disruptions in early
caregiving can exert long-term effects on the limbic-
hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal axis, which mediates
the stress response (Francis et al., 1996; Gunnar, Mori-
son, Chisholm, & Shchuder, 2001; Plotsky & Meaney,
1993; Sanchez et al., 2001). To determine whether these
findings were applicable to humans, Ashman, Dawson,
Panagiotides, Yamada, and Wilkinson (2002) collected
salivary cortisol samples from young school-age chil-
dren of depressed and nondepressed mothers. Samples
were collected immediately upon arrival to the research
laboratory and after a mild laboratory stressor; in addi-
tion, samples were collected at home after awakening
and before bedtime. Children who were reported to have
elevated levels of internalizing symptoms and whose
mother had a history of Depressive Disorder displayed
elevated laboratory baseline cortisol levels. Children re-
ported as having clinically significant internalizing
symptoms also were more likely to evidence an elevated
stress response to the mild laboratory stressor. Interest-
ingly, the best predictor of elevations in childrens base-
line cortisol at age 7 was the presence of maternal
depression within the first 2 years of the childs life.
These findings suggest that, as has been demonstrated
528 Developmental Psychopathology and Preventive Intervention
in the animal literature, early caregiving may be related
to later dysregulation in neurobiological stress systems
(see also Gunnar et al.s, 2001, work with Romanian or-
phans). Future longitudinal investigations that integrate
biological assessments, such as EEG hemispheric acti-
vation asymmetry and stress-reactivity paradigms, with
psychological measurements hold great potential for elu-
cidating mechanisms underlying the efficacy of preven-
tive interventions.
The Development of an
Attachment Relationship
Mothers who suffer from MDD are likely to struggle
with the demands of providing early care for their in-
fants. The features of the disorder, including anhedonia,
difficulty regulating negative affect, feelings of worth-
lessness, helplessness, and hopelessness, sleep distur-
bances, and decrements in role functioning, conspire to
generate an early relational context that may impair
parenting and the development of the mother-child
relationship and consequent child adaptation (Cicchetti,
Rogosch, & Toth, 1998; Goodman & Gotlib, 2002).
Moreover, depressive disorders frequently have evolved
from difficulties in mothers own childhood attachment
experiences (Bowlby, 1980). Linkages between distur-
bances in parent-child relations and the emergence of
depression have been made by theoreticians operating in
the tradition of psychoanalytic and object relations the-
ory (Arieti & Bemporad, 1978; Bowlby, 1980). Addi-
tionally, many retrospective studies have found that
depressed adults report histories involving inadequate or
abusive parental care (Bemporad & Romano, 1992).
Thus, insecurity in childhood attachment relation-
ships of depressed mothers not only may contribute to
their depressive disorders, but also may influence the
manner in which they are able to relate to their young
offspring via the operation of their representational
models of attachment relationships. In attempting to
understand the effects of maternal depression on the at-
tachment relationship with a child, the issue of psycho-
logical unavailability must be considered. From the
perspective of attachment theory, physical absence of a
caregiver may be much less important than the childs
experience of the parent as psychologically unavailable.
Moreover, during periods of parental depression, chil-
dren are likely to be confronted with caregivers who are
inconsistent, unpredictable, insensitive, hostile, and/or
intrusive (Cummings & Cicchetti, 1990; Egeland &
Sroufe, 1981). Such behavior in depressed caregivers
may interfere with the capacity to relate to their child in
a way that promotes the development of a secure attach-
ment relationship.
Although children of depressed caregivers are more
at risk of experiencing deviations in care as a conse-
quence of their caregivers struggles with their disor-
der, these children also may experience a sense of loss,
akin to actual loss of a parent (Bowlby, 1980), when
caregivers suffer from episodes of Major Depression.
Insecure representational models may place these chil-
dren in a more tenuous position in terms of coping with
the experience of psychological loss of the availability
of the caregiver as MDD episodes occur. Prolonged
anxiety, sustained grieving, and difficulty in resolving
the loss may further contribute to aberrations in the or-
ganization of cognitive, affective, representational, and
biological systems. Subsequent loss experiences, either
real or symbolic, may precipitate depressive episodes
(Beck, 1967).
The quality of attachment in infants and children of
mothers with depressive disorders has been examined in
a number of investigations. To date, the results are var-
ied (Martins & Gaffan, 2000). In view of the heteroge-
neous outcomes evidenced by children with depressed
mothers, developmental researchers have been con-
fronted with the challenge of specifying the processes
underlying this diversity.
Because children with depressed parents are espe-
cially likely to be faced with the parents psychological
unavailability, the role of depression in contributing to in-
secure attachment relationships has been a fertile area
of inquiry. In general, investigations of attachment secu-
rity in infants, toddlers, and preschoolers with depressed
caregivers suggest that offspring of depressed mothers
are more likely to evidence increased rates of insecurity
(Martins & Gaffan, 2000) than are offspring of nonde-
pressed mothers from comparable SES backgrounds.
With respect to the type of insecure attachment experi-
enced, a meta-analytic investigation conducted by
Martins and Gaffan concluded that the young offspring
of depressed mothers have increased rates of anxious-
avoidant (Type A) and disorganized (Type D) at-
tachments. However, findings regarding attachment inse-
curity vary as a function of sample characteristics
(e.g., depressed poverty-stricken mothers versus de-
pressed middle-SES mothers; hospitalized versus
community samples of depressed mothers), as well as
transient versus more prolonged exposure to maternal de-
Definitional and Epidemiological Considerations in Depression 529
pression (Cicchetti et al., 1995). Specifically, chronic
maternal depression that occurs during their offsprings
infancy and toddlerhood has been demonstrated to be as-
sociated with lags in verbal abilities, a lack of school
readiness skills, and behavior problems (National Insti-
tute of Child Health and Development [NICHD], 1999).
Additionally, issues such as the presence or absence of
other supportive individuals (e.g., nondisordered fathers),
as well as the overall family context in which the de-
pressed mother resides, are likely to exert a major impact
on the childs ultimate functioning (Cicchetti et al., 1998;
Downey & Coyne, 1990).
The Development of the Self System
Toddlerhood may be a particularly sensitive period for
the formation of a depressotypic organization because
many of the social, emotional, and cognitive competen-
cies implicated in the development of later Depressive
Disorder (e.g., the development of autonomy, the emer-
gence of the affect of shame, and the construction of a
representational model of the availability of the self and
of the self in relation to others) are at crucial stages of
development.
The quality of attachment relationships contributes to
the development of representational models of self
and other that organize cognition, affect, and behavior,
and these models serve to canalize perceptions and expe-
riences as ontogenesis proceeds. Consistent with the
propositions of an organizational perspective, the repre-
sentational models of insecurely attached offspring of
depressed mothers are likely to contribute to the develop-
ment of a depressotypic organization of psychological and
biological systems (Cicchetti & Toth, 1998a). Affect
regulation and expression are less optimal, and signifi-
cant others are perceived as unavailable or rejecting,
while the self is regarded as unlovable. These attachment-
related aspects of a depressotypic organization may con-
tribute to a proneness to self-processes that have been
linked to depression (e.g., low self-esteem, helplessness,
hopelessness, negative attributional biases).
In a study conducted by Rogosch, Cicchetti, and Toth
(2004), expressed emotion was examined in families of
toddlers whose mothers had experienced MDD occur-
ring since the childs birth and contrasted with expressed
emotion in demographically comparable families with no
history of parental mental disorder. Mothers provided 5-
minute speech samples on their child, their spouse, and
themselves and completed measures of toddler behavior
problems. Expressed emotion scores of criticism and
emotional overinvolvement were determined for mothers
for each of the individuals noted. Depressed mothers ex-
pressed significantly higher criticism in regard to self,
spouse, and toddler than did nondepressed mothers. No
depression group differences were found for emotional
overinvolvement. Thus, higher levels of criticism across
relationships mark the emotional climate in the families
of the depressed group. Moreover, mothers with MDD
reported significantly higher levels of child behavior
problems than did mothers in the nondepressed group.
However, high expressed emotion levels of maternal crit-
icism did not serve as a mediator of the relation between
depression group status and higher maternal report of
child behavior problems.
The greater criticism of depressed mothers in regard
to their toddlers is consistent with previous research
demonstrating that depressed mothers express more
criticism toward their school-age and adolescent chil-
dren (Brennan, Hammen, Katz, & Le Broque, 2003;
Schwartz, Yerushalmy, & Wilson, 1993). The findings
of Rogosch et al. (2004) demonstrate that the negativity
and criticism expressed are likely to emerge earlier in
development than suggested by prior work. Further-
more, toddlers also are more likely to be exposed to crit-
icism communicated between their parents, resulting in
a family emotional climate rife with negativity across
relationships.
Even when the young child is not the object of mater-
nal criticism, the toddler in the families of mothers with
MDD is nevertheless likely to be subjected to family sys-
tem processes operating in response to criticism in other
relationships. Children in families with depressed moth-
ers are more likely to be exposed to reciprocal criticism
between their parents, and such a conflicted marital rela-
tionship poses risks for these childrens socioemotional
development (Cummings & Davies, 1999; Rogosch et al.,
2004). The highly negative and critical relational envi-
ronment of families with a depressed mother likely influ-
ences emerging self-representations of the toddler and
may inculcate a negative self-structure that may form the
foundation for a depressotypic developmental organiza-
tion (Cicchetti & Toth, 1998a).
A number of empirical studies attest to the difficul-
ties in self-development and corresponding affective
functioning in toddlers of depressed mothers. Maternal
attribution patterns have been shown to affect the types
of self-attributions that young children make. For exam-
ple, Radke-Yarrow, Belmont, Nottelmann, and Bottomly
530 Developmental Psychopathology and Preventive Intervention
(1990) found that mothers with mood disorders con-
veyed significantly more negative affect in their attribu-
tions, particularly in regard to negative attributions
about child emotions. Moreover, among the mood disor-
dered mothers and their toddlers, there was a higher cor-
respondence in the affective tone of attributions and
statements about the self. This finding suggests a
heightened vulnerability among these children for nega-
tive self-attributions, with negative implications for an
increased risk for the development of later depression.
The development of self-knowledge during early tod-
dlerhood has been examined most extensively through
studies of visual self-recognition (M. Lewis & Brooks-
Gunn, 1979). These investigations have relied on the
presence of mark-directed behavior involving touching
the nose while inspecting oneself in a mirror after a spot
of rouge has been applied as the criterion for self-
recognition. This capacity to recognize oneself visually
emerges during the 2nd year of life and is considered to
be one of the early precursors in the ontogenetic se-
quence of self-awareness. Cognitive, social, and experi-
ential factors have been examined as they relate to
individual differences in the development of visual self-
recognition. Consistent with Kagans (1981) conclusion,
based on cross-cultural research, that self-awareness is a
maturational attainment, findings to date coalesce to
demonstrate that self-recognition is primarily a cogni-
tive maturational phenomenon. This assertion has been
further substantiated through investigation of atypical
populations (cf. Mans, Cicchetti, & Sroufe, 1978;
Schneider-Rosen & Cicchetti, 1991).
Research conducted with normative samples has re-
vealed that visual self-recognition is predominantly ac-
companied by positive affective displays. Despite the
fact that the attainment of visual self-recognition does
not differ in high-risk populations, empirical investiga-
tions have revealed a high percentage of neutral or nega-
tive affect accompanying self-recognition in these
youngsters (Schneider-Rosen & Cicchetti, 1991; Spiker
& Ricks, 1984).
Because the offspring of mothers with MDD are ex-
posed to a nonnormative, affectively extreme rearing en-
vironment, Cicchetti, Rogosch, Toth, and Spagnola
(1997) examined visual self-recognition in the toddlers
of depressed and nondepressed mothers. These investi-
gators discovered that the achievement of visual recog-
nition was not related to differences in level of cognitive
development, timing of rouge application, affective ex-
pression, or maternal depression. However, toddlers who
exhibited self-recognition and who had mothers with
MDD were more likely than toddlers of nondepressed
mothers to display nonpositive affect and to shift affect
from positive to nonpositive in the rouge condition.
Within the group of toddlers of mothers with MDD,
toddlers who did not evidence self-recognition and who
shifted affect from positive to nonpositive had lower at-
tachment Q-Sort (Waters, 1995) security ratings and had
mothers with less positive affect characteristics. These
findings are consistent with the predictions of the orga-
nizational perspective on development (Cicchetti &
Schneider-Rosen, 1986), which posits relations between
attachment security and self-development. Furthermore,
self-recognition and affective instability from the non-
rouge to the rouge condition were related to differences
in cognitive developmental level among toddlers of de-
pressed mothers. Whether the differing patterns of
affect-cognition relations discovered in the toddlers of
depressed mothers in this investigation will influence
the development, quality, or stability of emerging self-
cognitions is an important empirical question that is cur-
rently being investigated in our laboratory. Such work
will enable an examination of how affective components
of the self (e.g., self-esteem) that are relevant to the de-
velopment of depressive disorders relate to growing cog-
nitive and representational components of the self (e.g.,
self-understanding, self-cognitions, self-schemata; see
Cicchetti & Toth, 1995).
Cole, Barratt, and Zahn-Waxler (1992) observed a
group of toddlers during two mishaps: a doll breaking
and juice spilling. In general, toddlers exhibited two re-
actions to these mishaps: concerned reparation, and ten-
sion and frustration. Consistent with Kagans (1981)
notions that self-awareness, the appreciation of stan-
dards, and a moral sense emerge during this period,
most toddlers tried to repair the mishap. The presence of
depressed and anxious symptomatology in mothers was
associated with a suppression of frustration and tension
in their toddlers. It may be that the toddlers exposure to
mothers with depressed and anxious symptomatology
served to inhibit the development of more normal affec-
tive expression, thereby contributing to a sense of lack
of efficacy in interfacing with the environment.
Cicchetti, Maughan, Rogosch, and Toth (in press) in-
vestigated false belief understanding, an important as-
pect of a representational theory of mind and an aspect
of self-other differentiation that is typically acquired
during the preschool period (Wellman et al., 2001).
Early maternal depression was found to have a signifi-
Definitional and Epidemiological Considerations in Depression 531
cant effect on childrens false belief understanding at
age 5, with fewer children of depressed mothers passing
the false belief criteria than youngsters with nonde-
pressed caregivers. Interestingly, mothers who experi-
enced depression during the first 2 years of their childs
life and during the year prior to the false belief assess-
ments had children who performed most poorly on the
TOM tasks. These findings suggest that the experience
of both early and recent maternal depression exerted a
more detrimental effect on the development of TOM in
preschool offspring.
Our review of research on the effects of maternal de-
pression on offspring underscores the deleterious ef-
fects that this major mental disorder may exert on the
developing child. It also highlights the importance of in-
tervening not just directly with the depressed mother,
but also with offspring exposed to maternal depression.
Therefore, we next discuss a program of intervention
that has incorporated results derived from studies of at-
tachment and self in offspring of depressed mothers.
Preventive Interventions for Toddlers of
Depressed Mothers
Based on our knowledge of the effects of maternal de-
pression on the functioning of their young offspring, we
sought to examine the efficacy of a preventive interven-
tion to promote mother-child attachment security and
positive child adaptation. The intervention was predi-
cated on the importance of addressing the interplay
among maternal representational models of their attach-
ment experience in childhood, the mothers representa-
tions of her child, and the quality of the developing
attachment relationship between mother and child.
Although a number of attachment-informed inter-
ventions have been developed (Bakermans-Kranenburg
et al., 2003; van IJzendoorn et al., 1995), they typically
have involved the provision of treatment to multiproblem
populations (see, e.g., Egeland & Erickson, 1990; Erick-
son et al., 1992; Lieberman et al., 1991; Lyons-Ruth
et al., 1990). Consequently, an array of services has been
provided to meet the extensive needs of the families being
served. This diversity in service outcomes has made it
difficult to evaluate outcomes that may be attributed to
changes in representational models versus results that
may be due to other factors, such as a reduction of
environmental stressors. Therefore, the application of
attachment-informed interventions to populations with
more circumscribed problems, such as mothers experi-
encing MDD without co-occurring risk factors, can be in-
formative through more effectively isolating the specific
factors that influence outcome.
To date, two interventions have been conducted that
have sought to modify attachment security in the young
offspring of depressed mothers. Gelfand, Teti, Seiner,
and Jameson (1996) found that a home-based interven-
tion designed to improve maternal self-efficacy was not
effective in improving attachment security in offspring.
Similarly, Cooper and Murray (1997) evaluated four
types of intervention for mothers with postpartum
depression. Mothers were assigned randomly to either
routine primary care, nondirective counseling, cognitive-
behavioral therapy, or attachment theory-guided dy-
namic psychotherapy. With the exception of the primary
care condition, all treatment groups evidenced fewer re-
lationship difficulties with their children postinterven-
tion. However, improvements in attachment security did
not occur. Thus, preventive interventions have yet to
demonstrate the ability of attachment-informed thera-
pies to foster attachment security in diverse groups of
high-risk populations, including the offspring of de-
pressed mothers.
An Attachment Theory-Informed Preventive
Intervention for Toddlers with Depressed Mothers
In view of the potential challenges to the development of
secure attachment relationships that confront children
with depressed caregivers, the continued provision and
evaluation of preventive interventions for this popula-
tion are extremely important. Although it is not uncom-
mon for depressed women to receive therapeutic
interventions for their depression that involve pharmaco-
logical treatments, individual therapy, or both, it is much
less likely that such interventions recognize the woman
as a mother and, consequently, address the relationship
that is forming between mother and child. Unfortu-
nately, disregard for this evolving relationship may re-
sult in greater risk for the emergence of an insecure
attachment relationship and associated developmental
difficulties for the child. Inattention to mother-child re-
lationship issues in depressed mothers, in turn, may
serve to perpetuate maternal depression, as the care-
giver may be confronted with current and future child
behavior problems and the associated guilt resulting
from the fear that her depression has interfered with ef-
fective parenting.
In our laboratory, we conducted a controlled random-
ized preventive intervention trial with mothers with
532 Developmental Psychopathology and Preventive Intervention
MDD and their toddler offspring. Participants in this
preventive intervention were recruited for a longitudinal
study designed to evaluate the efficacy of a preventive
intervention (toddler-parent psychotherapy [TPP]) for
toddlers of depressed mothers and to examine the
effects of maternal depression on child development, in-
cluding child attachment. The sample included 168
mothers and their toddlers. At the time of enrollment,
the average age of the toddlers was 20.4 months. Of the
toddlers, 102 had mothers with a history of MDD that
minimally involved a major depressive episode occur-
ring at some time since the toddler had been born. The
remaining 66 children had mothers with no current or
prior history of major psychiatric disorder. The mean
maternal age of the sample was 31.6 years.
To minimize the co-occurring risk factors that often
accompany parental depression (Downey & Coyne,
1990), we decided not to recruit families from low-SES
backgrounds. Initially, we wanted to conduct this inter-
vention with low-SES mothers and their young off-
spring; however, because no study had succeeded in
demonstrating that an attachment-informed interven-
tion could successfully alter attachment security and
child functioning in the offspring of depressed moth-
ers, we concluded that it was first necessary to ascer-
tain whether such an intervention could be effective
with depressed mothers from the middle-SES popula-
tion. Accordingly, parents were required to have at
least a high school education and families could not be
reliant on public assistance. A community sample of
mothers with a history of Depressive Disorder was re-
cruited through referrals from mental health profes-
sionals and through notices placed in newspapers,
community publications, and medical offices and on
community bulletin boards. In addition to having a
child of approximately 20 months of age, mothers in
the depressed groups had to meet diagnostic criteria for
MDD occurring at some period since the birth of their
toddler. The depressed mothers also had to be willing
to accept random assignment to either the intervention
or the nonintervention group following completion
of baseline assessments. Among depressed mothers,
92.8% had been depressed during the postpartum pe-
riod. Only 12.4% had been depressed exclusively in the
postpartum period since the toddler was born. Forty-
six depressed mothers were randomly assigned to
receive the TPP intervention. The length of the inter-
vention period averaged 57 weeks, and the mean num-
ber of intervention sessions conducted was 45.
Recruitment of control group mothers without a his-
tory of psychiatric disorder was achieved by contacting
families living in the vicinity of the families of
depressed mothers. Names of potential families with a
toddler of the targeted age were obtained from birth
records. In addition to the same demographic character-
istics required for families with depressed mothers, the
control group mothers were screened for the presence or
history of major psychiatric disorder using the Diagnos-
tic Interview Schedule III-R (Robins et al., 1985); only
mothers without a current or past history of major psy-
chiatric disorder were retained. Thus, this control group
constitutes a super normal comparison group, given
what is known from epidemiological studies about the
prevalence of mental disorders in the general population.
We based our decision to recruit depressed mothers
when their offspring were approximately 20 months of
age on research as well as clinical considerations. Be-
cause several studies have found shifts from secure to
insecure attachment between 12 and 18 months of age
in offspring of depressed mothers, it appears that the
toddler period confronts the mother-child dyad with
challenges that are not met effectively. The chronicity
of maternal depression may impede the toddler from
being able to rely on the mother as a secure base. Dur-
ing toddlerhood, depressed mothers may become espe-
cially overwhelmed by the demands associated with
parenting an active, inquisitive, and increasingly inde-
pendent child who strives for initial individuation from
the mother (Cicchetti & Toth, 1995). As these strivings
for autonomy reach ascendance, a depressed mother
may feel rejected by her childs increased interest in
aspects of the world not related to the dyadic relation-
ship. This tendency might be especially likely to occur
in women who themselves had histories of rejection
and who therefore are sensitized to perceiving rejec-
tion even in generally benign circumstances. To pre-
vent the coalescence of insecure attachment and to help
mothers accurately interpret the changes associated
with toddlerhood, we felt that the provision of a pre-
ventive intervention during this developmental period
was especially important.
Participants in the depressed intervention (DI ), de-
pressed control (DC), and nondepressed control (NC)
groups were comparable on a range of basic demo-
graphic characteristics. Mothers were predominantly
Caucasian (92.4%), and minority representation did not
differ across groups. Maternal education also was com-
parable across groups. Overall, 53.8% of the mothers
Definitional and Epidemiological Considerations in Depression 533
were college graduates or had received advanced de-
grees. Family SES based on Hollingsheads (1975) four-
factor index also was consistent across groups: 73.4%
were ranked in the two highest socioeconomic group
status levels (IV and V).
Baseline assessments took place when toddlers were
approximately 20 months of age and depressed mothers
were randomly assigned to the intervention group (DI ) or
the nontreatment control (DC) group. Postintervention
assessments occurred subsequent to the child turning 3
years old, when the DI group had completed the course of
intervention. Extensive analyses of baseline measure-
ments were conducted and differences between the DI
and DC groups, in contrast to the normative group of non-
depressed mothers (NC), were examined. Consistently,
across diverse measurements, including stress, social
support, parenting hassles, marital harmony and satisfac-
tion, and levels of conflict, the two groups of depressed
mothers were found to be indistinguishable, verifying the
effectiveness of the randomization procedures. In all
cases, the two groups of depressed mothers were found to
have less adaptive functioning (Cicchetti et al., 1998);
moreover, each of the features on which the depressed
mothers differed from the mothers in the control group
are detrimental to facilitating optimal child development
and secure attachment relationships. Although not all
mothers in the depressed groups were experiencing a de-
pressive episode at the initiation of the preventive inter-
vention, it was apparent that vulnerabilities in the two
groups were substantial and continued beyond the con-
fines of depressive episodes. These findings underscore
the adverse emotional climate in which the toddler off-
spring of depressed mothers are immersed.
TPP is consistent with the IPP intervention described
earlier in the chapter, with therapeutic adjustments
made for the childs developmental level (Lieberman,
1992). Modifications in the treatment model also were
made based on the socioeconomic status of participants.
For example, rather than providing the intervention in
homes, as was the case with low-income maltreating
mothers, TPP was provided in the office setting. We
found that our middle-income participants were not
comfortable having someone provide services in their
home, as they viewed it as somewhat intrusive. They also
were much more accustomed to professional settings.
Thus, although we initially considered providing the
treatment in the homes as has been done in other semi-
nal studies of this model of intervention (cf. Lieberman
et al., 1991), it quickly became apparent that this would
be counterproductive. This realization is an important
one, as it underscores the importance of tailoring an in-
tervention to the needs of the population being served
rather than rigidly adhering to a model developed with
another population.
Challenges to Implementation. Although initially
we expected the implementation of a preventive inter-
vention with middle-income families in which fewer co-
occurring risks were present to be much easier than our
experiences in providing and evaluating services to low-
income multiproblem families, we quickly learned that a
different set of challenges was present. Our description
of the modification to the provision of TPP provides one
example of how a new population required a different
approach. A number of other issues also emerged, many
of them directly related to the diagnosis of depression.
First, we needed to ascertain how best to communi-
cate with women regarding their depression. Although
some women clearly self-identified as depressed, others
had never actively sought treatment for depression. Thus,
challenges posed by enrolling a sample that was recruited
from the community and that was not necessarily com-
fortable with the utilization of diagnostic nomenclature
needed to be addressed. Although we decided not to
focus on the clinical diagnosis, we did describe symp-
toms and discussed how the symptoms were consistent
with the presence of depression. The fact that the symp-
tom pattern could affect parenting also was discussed.
Sharing information that we were preventing some-
thing also proved to be a very delicate issue. We found
that many of the mothers who were depressed feared that
they had somehow damaged their offspring. Thus, even
though we carefully described our randomization proce-
dures, when contacted regarding participation in inter-
vention, many women became alarmed. After completing
baseline visits and being invited to participate in the in-
tervention based on random assignment, one mother anx-
iously responded, I knew there was something wrong
with my son because I took antidepressants when I was
pregnant. I know youre calling me because he looks re-
ally bad. We consistently needed to emphasize that not
all children exposed to maternal depression had prob-
lems and that participation in the preventive intervention
might just maintain an already positive developmental
trajectory.
Actual recruitment of the population of depressed
women also posed challenges. Initially, we planned to
enlist participants from providers who were treating the
534 Developmental Psychopathology and Preventive Intervention
maternal depression. Because we were focusing on the
mother-child relationship and not on maternal depres-
sion per se, this approach seemingly posed no interfer-
ence with any treatment being provided to the mother
for her depression and also ensured that all women
would be receiving necessary treatment for their depres-
sive disorders. Surprisingly, we found that despite
extensive outreach efforts, community providers of ser-
vices to depressed women were reluctant to refer possi-
ble participants. In fact, we received a much more
positive response from non-mental health providers. In
retrospect, we realized that despite protestations to the
contrary, many providers feared that they would lose
their clients if they referred them to our program.
Therefore, we modified our recruitment strategy to
reach out directly to mothers.
The reputation of Mt. Hope Family Center as a facil-
ity serving low-income populations also posed obsta-
cles. We needed to establish a separate name for the
intervention program, relying on our university affilia-
tion, which we minimized in our work with low-income
participants, for whom that affiliation was typically off-
putting. We also obtained a separate phone line, utilized
a different entrance, and provided more upscale dcor in
efforts to decrease perceptions of stigmatization that
our participants might feel attending a clinic-like set-
ting known for treating child abuse and neglect. Our lo-
cation in an urban community also resulted in some
resistance, with suburban mothers fearing for their
safety when venturing into the city. Procedures needed
to be developed to increase comfort with traveling to our
facility. Research staff would meet mothers in the park-
ing lot and offer to pick them up if they were uncomfort-
able with the drive.
Because mothers were struggling with depression,
concerted outreach needed to occur to ensure that they
had the energy to meet the demands of participation in
the research. We provided a single point of contact for
mothers so that they could develop a relationship with a
member of our staff. The designated mom experi-
menter was a constant who guided participants through
all aspects of the longitudinal research program. Unfor-
tunately, staff turnover is unavoidable over the course of
a longitudinal project; when staff attrition occurred, we
made great efforts to have the departing staff member
introduce the new contact person.
Interestingly, the remission of MDD also posed a
challenge to the conduct of the longitudinal investiga-
tion. We found that well mothers sometimes wanted to
distance themselves from the period during which they
had been clinically depressed. Remaining involved with
a research program that had recruited them because of
their mental illness reminded them of a difficult period
in their lives. Moreover, as offspring became older, we
found that some mothers were reluctant to discuss their
history of depression with their children for fear of stig-
matizing either themselves or their children. Efforts to
help these women understand that both research and
clinical case studies (e.g., Beardslee, 2000; Hinshaw,
2002) suggest that honest disclosure and the provision of
information about past and current mental illness is
helpful for children met with mixed results. Although
some mothers expressed a willingness to continue in-
volvement in the project as a function of this informa-
tion, others adamantly insisted that they did not want
their or their childs life in any way linked with the his-
tory of depression. The latter scenario was most typical
in families where significant life changes, such as di-
vorce and remarriage, had occurred. The fear of stigma-
tization was very real, and its presence speaks to the
need for increased efforts to battle the societal stigmati-
zation of mental illness.
Finally, our project staff struggled with how best to
share the results of the project when mothers requested
information. Because we were working with bright
women who utilized library and Internet resources, they
were interested in reading publications that emanated
from their involvement. However, we were concerned
that depressed mothers who had not participated in the
intervention would be alarmed about the effects of their
depression on their child, given our positive findings for
intervention. Therefore, we prepared synopses of our re-
sults, always emphasizing that conclusions were based
on group data and did not apply to individuals.
Intervention Efficacy. Given the centrality of at-
tachment organization to early personality development
and competent adaptation, a critical question involved
whether the toddlers of a middle-class group of de-
pressed mothers would evidence heightened rates of at-
tachment insecurity at baseline. At baseline and at
postintervention completion at 36 months, attachment
was assessed via the attachment Q-set (AQS; Waters,
1995), a measure that has been found to provide a valid
assessment of attachment. Mothers were given detailed
instructions and training on how to complete the AQS
prior to the baseline assessment and were asked to ob-
serve their child for 2 weeks before completing the
Definitional and Epidemiological Considerations in Depression 535
AQS. In accordance with the findings of others, tod-
dlers with depressed mothers evidenced higher rates of
insecurity than toddlers of nondepressed mothers. Sub-
sequently, the effectiveness of the attachment theory-
based intervention for fostering attachment security of
toddlers with depressed mothers was examined (Cic-
chetti, Toth, & Rogosch, 1999).
Although, at baseline, the toddlers in the DI and DC
groups evidenced equivalent rates of insecure attachment
and both groups had higher rates of insecure attachment
than the NC group, at follow-up the DC group continued
to have higher rates of insecure attachment than the
NC group. In contrast, the DI group at postintervention
follow-up was not significantly different from the NC
group in terms of the rate of insecure attachment. For
toddlers who had taken part in the intervention, there was
greater maintenance of secure attachment organization
among those who were initially secure, as well as a
greater shift from insecure to secure attachment group-
ings. These findings demonstrate the efficacy of TPP in
promoting secure attachment organization among young
offspring of depressed mothers and are among the first in
the literature to demonstrate the effectiveness of a pre-
ventive intervention for altering attachment organization.
Maternal sorts of the AQS have been shown to relate
to Strange Situation attachment classifications, as well
as in theoretically expected ways to maternal internal
working models and child security (Eiden, Teti, &
Corns, 1995; Vaughn & Waters, 1990). It is unlikely that
the maternal reports were biased because the Q-set
method, unlike face-valid, self-report measures, re-
quires the respondent to make forced-choice decisions
across items, thereby reducing potential for biased re-
sponding. Moreover, mothers were not informed as to
what constitutes secure attachment and they were un-
aware of our experimental hypotheses. In addition,
mothers were neither trained in attachment theory nor
knowledgeable about the security criterion ratings for
the AQS. Consequently, it is improbable that demand
characteristics affected maternal ratings of attachment
security. In this regard, the nondidactic nature of the in-
tervention provided becomes important. Unlike inter-
ventions that strive to teach sensitive responding or
utilize modeling, the TPP intervention never provided
such techniques.
In addition to AQS assessments, attachment security
also was examined in the Strange Situation; this para-
digm was utilized at baseline and postintervention to
further elucidate the impact of TPP on attachment orga-
nization (Toth, Cicchetti, & Rogosch, in press). At base-
line, toddlers in the DI and DC groups were significantly
more likely to be insecurely attached to their mother
than were toddlers in the NC group. Specifically, 13% of
the toddlers in the DI and 20% of the toddlers in the DC
group exhibited insecure attachment. Although their in-
security rates were not significantly different from each
other, the security rate of 55% in the NC group differed
significantly from both depression groups. Consistent
with the extant literature, the toddlers in the DC group
also had significantly greater rates of disorganized
(Type D) attachment than the toddlers in the NC group.
There also was a trend for toddlers in the DI group to
manifest higher rates of Type D attachment than was the
case for youngsters in the NC group. Specifically, the
rates of disorganized attachment were 45%, 37%, and
20% for the DC, DI, and NC groups, respectively.
At postintervention, statistically significant differ-
ences were obtained in security of attachment between the
DI (67%) and the DC (17%) groups. Furthermore, the DC
group had significantly less attachment security than the
NC group (48%). Of particular importance, despite the
large differences in security that existed between the DI
and NC groups at baseline, upon completion of the inter-
vention, toddlers in these two groups showed no differ-
ences in attachment security. Whereas, at baseline, there
were no statistically significant differences between the
DI and NC groups in attachment disorganization, at
postintervention there was less Type D attachment in the
DI than in the DC group and a greater rate of Type D at-
tachment in the DC than in the NC group. The percentages
of Type D attachment at postintervention were 11%, 41%,
and 21% in the DI, DC, and NC groups, respectively.
An examination of change in attachment security
from baseline to postintervention revealed striking find-
ings. The toddlers in the DI group displayed a greater
percentage of change in attachment from baseline to
postintervention than did either of the nonintervention
groups. Specifically, toddlers in the DI group were more
likely to change from attachment insecurity to attach-
ment security. In addition, the toddlers in the DC group
were more likely to change from attachment security to
insecurity than were toddlers in the NC group.
Clinical Implications of Attachment Results. The
results of the TPP intervention for toddlers of mothers
with MDD provide compelling support for the potential
malleability of attachment insecurity. The TPP interven-
tion was effective at modifying attachment insecurity
536 Developmental Psychopathology and Preventive Intervention
and in maintaining existing security in the toddler off-
spring of depressed mothers. Conversely, offspring of de-
pressed mothers not receiving the TPP intervention were
less likely than intervention offspring to maintain secure
attachments at the postintervention assessment. These
findings emphasize the importance of providing preven-
tive interventions to offspring of depressed mothers so as
to minimize the likelihood that insecurity will emerge
over time. That is, even if offspring of mothers with MDD
are securely attached early in life, the parenting milieu
and the emotional climate of the home that accompany
maternal depression, even once an active episode has re-
mitted, may militate against the continuance of their se-
cure attachment.
In view of the findings on the effectiveness of TPP, it
is important to try to ascertain why this is one of the first
interventions found to effectively improve security of
attachment in young children. One possibility lies in the
characteristics of the sample. Even though these mothers
were struggling with MDD, they had fewer stressors
than typical in populations frequently participating in
preventive interventions. For example, the majority of
women were married, had a postsecondary education,
and were not members of the lower socioeconomic
strata. Therefore, they may have been better able to uti-
lize an insight-oriented mode of therapy than women
confronted with a multitude of daily living challenges.
Additionally, the selection of a sample with fewer risk
factors than that present in multiproblem populations
allowed therapists to provide a pure form of therapy
without needing to depart from the intervention protocol
to address crisis situations. Because TPP sessions re-
vealed that many of the depressed mothers in this inves-
tigation themselves had histories of negative caregiving
and accompanying unresolved issues from childhood, the
ability to maintain a focus on the dynamic roots of inter-
generational patterns and to explore the current impact
of past history on caregiving is considered to be of para-
mount importance in the success of this intervention. We
speculate that as mothers became freed from the ghosts
from their pasts, their representational models became
more positive and they were increasingly able to focus on
the present, including their relationship with their child.
Moreover, as this occurred, we believe that mothers were
better able to derive pleasure from their offspring and
that, consequently, caregivers were invested in fostering
and maintaining positive interactions. As mothers be-
came more grounded in the present, we believe that they
were more sensitive to their children and better able to
respond to the cues of their offspring. It remains an open,
and critical, question as to whether this intervention
would be equally effective with a more high-risk popula-
tion of depressed women (e.g., depressed and impover-
ished mothers).
After the intervention, youngsters in the DI, DC,
and NC groups were followed up 1 year later to deter-
mine whether the youngsters in the DI group would
continue their positive trajectory and manifest more
positive representations of their mother than young-
sters in the DC group. At the age of 4, youngsters were
individually administered a story-stem completion
task by examiners unaware of group diagnosis, inter-
vention status, and child attachment organization
(Toth, Maughan, Manly, Spagnola, & Cicchetti, 2002).
Consistent with the predictions of an organizational
perspective, it was found that the children in the DI
group were significantly more likely than those in the
DC group to display positive expectations of their rela-
tionship with their mother.
The percentage of children with positive representa-
tional models of their caregivers was equivalent in the
DI and NC groups; moreover, the DI and NC groups
both exhibited more positive representations of their
mother than did the youngsters in the DC group. Fur-
thermore, the positive relationship between attachment
security and positive self-representations demonstrates
that the positive effects of the intervention were main-
tained 1 year after the conclusion of TPP.
The Efficacy of Toddler-Parent Psychotherapy
for Fostering Cognitive Development in Offspring of
Depressed Mothers. Offspring of depressed mothers
are frequently confronted with a caregiver who has cog-
nitive difficulties, including negative self-cognitions,
concentration and memory impairments, and delayed in-
formation-processing abilities (American Psychiatric
Association, 1994). Not surprisingly, a number of inves-
tigations have examined the impact that maternal de-
pression has on young childrens cognitive development.
Although some evidence has emphasized the signifi-
cance of maternal depression during the postpartum pe-
riod and found that cognitive impairments remit over
time, other investigations have found continued cogni-
tive difficulties into the preschool years (Cicchetti, Ro-
gosch, & Toth, 2000).
The role of preventive interventions in remediating
the detrimental effects of maternal depression on cog-
nitive development has been examined. Neither Cooper
Conclusion and Future Perspective 537
and Murray (1997) nor Gelfand et al. (1996) found any
intervention effects on the cognitive functioning of
offspring of depressed mothers; in contrast, Lyons-
Ruth et al. (1990) found significant treatment effects
for a home-visiting intervention among offspring of
depressed mothers. Eighteen-month-old toddlers of de-
pressed mothers who had not taken part in the preven-
tive intervention obtained Mental Development Index
(MDI ) scores on the Bayley Scales of Infant Develop-
ment that were 10 points lower than those toddlers
whose mother participated in the intervention.
In our intervention for toddler offspring of mothers
with MDD, we also examined the impact of TPP on the
course of cognitive development in toddlers from middle-
SES backgrounds whose mothers had experienced MDD
prior to the childs age of 18 months. During the toddler
period, the emergence of self-awareness and the develop-
ment of symbolic representation are central issues (Cic-
chetti & Schneider-Rosen, 1986). Through facilitating
communication and expressiveness between mother and
child and optimizing the emotional quality of the mother-
child relationships, the TPP intervention enhanced chil-
drens resolution of the competent developmental tasks of
infancy and toddlerhood. Competent development during
toddlerhood results in a positive emerging self in which
children are more autonomous, free to explore and engage
their environment, and more likely to have greater facil-
ity in the expression of their internal experience (Cic-
chetti & Toth, 1995).
At baseline, the DI, DC, and NC groups did not differ
on the Bayley MDI. At the postintervention follow-up, a
decline in IQ was found in the DC group, whereas the DI
and NC groups continued to be equivalent, with higher
Wechsler Preschool and primary Scale of Intelligence-
Revised (WPPSI-R, 1989) Full-Scale and Verbal IQs
than in the DC group. The worst outcome was found
among the DC children whose mother had experienced
subsequent depressive episodes. In contrast, among chil-
dren of depressed mothers in the DI groups, no differ-
ences in cognitive development were observed for those
children of mothers in the intervention who did or did
not have subsequent depressive episodes between base-
line and age 3. Thus, TPP contributed to childrens mak-
ing normative cognitive advances, even when mothers
continued to struggle with recurrent depression. Con-
versely, children in the DC group were more delayed
when their mother experienced recurrent depressive
episodes. Specifically, among children whose mother
had subsequent depressive episodes, there was nearly a
15-point difference in Verbal IQ favoring children in the
intervention group (Cicchetti et al., 2000).
Taken in tandem, the efficacy of the TPP interven-
tion in fostering attachment security, positive represen-
tational models, and normative cognitive development,
even in the presence of ongoing maternal depression, un-
derscores the criticality of providing prevention inter-
ventions for children of depressed mothers. The fact that
more difficulties emerged over time among the off-
spring of mothers with subsequent depressive episodes
further highlights the need for intervening preventively
in the lives of these children. Without intervention, it is
highly likely that the young offspring of mothers with
MDD in the DI group, as appears to be the case with the
youngsters in the DC group, would develop a depresso-
typic organization that forebodes later maladaptation
and possible depressive illness. It is important to note
that the provision of TPP did not result in a reduction of
maternal depression. Although not a surprising outcome,
given the effects of recurrent depressive episodes on
child development, further attention needs to be di-
rected toward effectively treating MDD in mothers.
CONCLUSION AND
FUTURE PERSPECTIVE
A central objective of this chapter has been to illustrate
the essential role that a developmental psychopathology
perspective can play in bridging the worlds of basic re-
search and clinical practice. We invoked a number of the
principles of developmental psychopathology to guide
the research conducted in our laboratory on maltreated
children and the offspring of mothers with MDD. We
chose to focus on the research we carried out with in-
fants, toddlers, and preschoolers from these high-risk
conditions as exemplars of how research findings could
be utilized to conduct and implement preventive inter-
ventions. Guided by an organizational perspective on
development that informed the discoveries of our basic
research, we demonstrated the efficacy of several ran-
domized clinical trials with maltreated infants, tod-
dlers, and preschoolers, as well as with the infant and
toddler offspring of mothers with MDD.
The experimental nature of randomized clinical trials
provides an unprecedented opportunity to make causal
inferences in the field. Independent variables manipu-
lated in prevention trials may be several steps removed
from underlying etiologic factors because such trials are
primarily concerned with alleviating suffering and
538 Developmental Psychopathology and Preventive Intervention
promoting competence. Nonetheless, careful research
design and assiduous measurement of ancillary process
variables through which intervention effects may occur
can shed light on the theory-driven mechanisms under-
lying healthy and pathological outcomes (Cicchetti &
Hinshaw, 2002; Kraemer, Stice, Kazdin, Offord, &
Kupfer, 2001).
Recent initiatives at the National Institute of Mental
Health, wherein funding decisions are tied to the real-
world applications of research findings and to research
capable of reducing the burden of mental illness, cer-
tainly will increasingly encourage investigators to devise
and conduct investigations that break down the dualisms
that exist between basic research and clinical interven-
tion. In a report of the National Advisory Mental Health
Council (2000, p. v) entitled Translating Behavioral Sci-
ence into Action, the workgroup concluded that too few
researchers are attempting to bridge across basic, clini-
cal, and services research, and not enough are working
with colleagues in related allied disciplines to move re-
search advances out of the laboratory and into clinical
care, service delivery, and policy making. In this re-
port, translational research is defined as research de-
signed to address how basic behavioral processes inform
the diagnosis, prevention, treatment, and delivery of ser-
vices for mental illness and, conversely, how knowledge
of mental illness increases our understanding of basic be-
havioral processes (p. iii). This formulation of transla-
tional research is in direct accord with principles of
developmental psychopathologynamely, the reciprocal
interplay between basic and applied research and be-
tween normal and atypical development (Cicchetti &
Toth, 1998b).
In recent years, developmental psychopathologists
have advocated a multiple-levels-of-analysis approach to
the investigation of maladaptation and psychopathology
(Chicchetti & Blender, 2004; Cicchetti & Dawson, 2002).
Thus, the examination of multiple systems, domains, and
levels of the ecology on the same individuals is thought to
eventuate in a more complete depiction of individual pat-
terns of adaptation and maladaptation. We believe it is
essential that this multiple-levels-of-analysis approach be
adopted by scientists who are conducting randomized
controlled clinical preventive intervention trials. For ex-
ample, the inclusion of molecular genetic methods (e.g.,
sequencing DNA and utilizing functional polymorphisms
to examine gene environment interactions), neuroimag-
ing techniques (e.g., to investigate brain structure and
function, pre- and postintervention), and stress-reactivity
paradigms (e.g., to ascertain whether neurobiological
stress systems are modifiable as a result of treatment), in
conjunction with psychological outcomes, will enhance
the understanding of the impact of interventions on
brain-behavior relations (see, e.g., Caspi et al., 2002,
2003; Cicchetti & Posner, 2005; Fishbein, 2000; Goldap-
ple et al., 2004). Similarly, the incorporation of biological
measures into the research armamentaria of researchers
investigating pathways to competence in the presence of
significant adversity, as well as the translation of this in-
tegrative research into resilience-promoting interventions
that assess biological, psychological, and ecological vari-
ables, will contribute to greatly reducing the schisms that
exist between research and practice (Cicchetti, 2003;
Curtis & Cicchetti, 2003; Luthar & Cicchetti, 2000).
Given the substantial monetary investment in sup-
porting both basic research with relevance to the
understanding and treatment of mental illness and in
randomized prevention and treatment trials, it is of para-
mount importance that the knowledge gained from such
endeavors be transported into real-world contexts. Re-
searchers must be advocates, not only for the scientific
dissemination of knowledge, but also for reaching poli-
cymakers and clinicians who may lack the understand-
ing or resources needed to provide interventions that
have been found to be efficacious. It would be naive to
suggest that impediments to implementing evidence-
supported treatments in nonresearch settings do not
exist. However, although efforts to traverse the path
from the university laboratory to the clinical world may
cause apprehension, avoidance, and resistance, such a
journey must not be eschewed. Rather, as a field we need
to embrace the diversity among us, equally welcoming
potentially elucidating contributions from basic re-
searchers and frontline professionals. Such collaborative
endeavors and active efforts to improve the conduct and
utilization of research and the scientific base of practice
will benefit researchers, practitioners, policymakers,
and, most important, children and families in need of
support and treatment.
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548
CHAPTER 14
Families and Early Childhood Interventions
DOUGLAS R. POWELL
CHAPTER PURPOSE AND ORGANIZATION 549
DEFINITIONAL AND LITERATURE
PARAMETERS 550
INFLUENCES ON THE ROLE OF FAMILIES IN
EARLY CHILDHOOD INTERVENTIONS 550
Conceptualizations of Families 551
Empirical Knowledge 554
A Case Illustration 555
ELEMENTS OF PROGRAMMATIC SUPPORT
TO FAMILIES 558
Content 559
Participants 562
Format 562
Intensity 563
Staffing 565
Targeting and Recruiting Families 566
Supports for Program Implementation 567
APPROACHES TO FAMILIES IN EARLY
INTERVENTION: FIVE BASIC
PROGRAM DESIGNS 568
Parent as Adjunct to Child Program 569
Parent as Supplementary to Child Program 571
Parent as Primary Participant 574
Child and Parent as Primary Participants 577
Preliminary Hypotheses about Program Design 580
NEEDED DIRECTIONS IN APPROACHES
TO FAMILIES IN EARLY
CHILDHOOD INTERVENTIONS 581
Research 581
Program Development 582
REFERENCES 584
Ensuring the well-being of at-risk children through sup-
portive assistance to their families is a powerful idea
that has driven a substantial amount of early interven-
tion research and program development activity. Since
the early 1970s, a diverse set of interventions has been
developed to help families promote positive child out-
comes. Programs vary in the substantive focus of assis-
tance to families, from parenting and child-rearing
responsibilities, to family connections with community
services, to job skills. Intervention methods may include
home visiting, group sessions at a program center,
and/or case management, sometimes provided in a con-
current or sequential arrangement with a center-based
I am grateful to Carolyn Pape Cowan, Philip A. Cowan, and
Joan E. Grusec for thoughtful reviews of an earlier draft of
this chapter; to Karen E. Diamond, K. Ann Renninger, and
Irving E. Sigel for helping me shape the chapters focus; and
to James S. Bates for gathering material and reviewing suc-
cessive drafts.
early childhood program. Staff who work directly with
families may be professionals or paraprofessionals.
In spite of varied programefforts, the expectation that
intervention with families will enable children to succeed
in life has yet to be fully realized. Some interventions
have produced short- and long-term positive effects;
many other interventions have yielded weak effects,
sometimes on a small number of outcomes, or no effects.
Reasons for the overall mixed picture of results have
received limited attention in the scholarly literature.
Reviews of early intervention research have tended to
juxtapose direct work with the child versus the family in
an attempt to identify the most beneficial approach. The
problem with this analysis strategy is that it ignores is-
sues of quality in intervention design, implementation,
and evaluation. Discerning what seems to work and not
work in approaches to families in early interventions re-
quires respectful attention to variations in intervention
design. Considerations of quality also necessitate a
careful look at common problems in intervention re-
Chapter Purpose and Organization 549
search: simplistic or poorly conceptualized program
models, mismatches between program approach and
population circumstances, inadequate implementation
of a program model, and faulty research designs, includ-
ing inappropriate and/or insensitive measures.
An increasingly common conclusion of analyses of the
early intervention literature is that researchers need to
look more carefully into the black box of programs to
determine the process by which interventions contribute,
or fall short of contributing, to improvements in chil-
drens well-being (e.g., Brooks-Gunn, Berlin, & Fuligni,
2000; Gomby, Culross, & Behrman, 1999; National Re-
search Council and Institute of Medicine, 2000). Accord-
ingly, a closer examination of research on the role of
families in early interventions holds promise of identify-
ing factors and patterns that warrant attention in program
design decisions and in future intervention research.
CHAPTER PURPOSE AND ORGANIZATION
The purpose of this chapter is to identify potentially
critical characteristics of effective approaches to fami-
lies in interventions aimed at enhancing the well-being
of at-risk children from birth to 5 years of age. To this
end, the chapter examines variations in the design of
interventions with regard to programmatic elements of
support to families (e.g., staffing, intensity) and differ-
ent combinations of program content and participant
roles. It also describes conceptual and empirical influ-
ences on program design and identifies needed direc-
tions in research aimed at discerning what works in the
relation of families to early childhood interventions.
A premise of the chapter is that a major decision in
the design and delivery of early childhood interventions
is how much and what type of programmatic room to
make for families. The issue is not a dichotomous matter
of whether early interventions should include provisions
for families. Even early interventions that seek to com-
pensate for deficiencies in family functioning by provid-
ing a year-round, full-day educational program for
young children include modest voluntary options for
connecting with families. The current sociopolitical cli-
mateparticularly values underlying parental rights
and respect for family cultures and traditionsensures
that, at a minimum, interventions will give rhetorical if
not nominal attention to families.
Consistent with purposes of this volume, an assump-
tion of the chapter is that readers have an interest in the
application of research to pressing societal problems.
Most of the chapter is organized by program variables,
and attention is given to issues in translating research to
practice and in conducting intervention research.
After defining key terms and the literature included
in this chapter, I describe in general terms how concep-
tualizations of families and empirical knowledge from
developmental and intervention researches have shaped
the development of family interventions. A goal of this
section is to provide an orientation to substantive bases
of intervention approaches to families. At the same
time, the section acknowledges the limitations of the
extant research literature and provides a case descrip-
tion of the process of applying conceptualizations of
families and research knowledge to the development of
practice guidelines for a federally sponsored family in-
tervention program.
The chapter then moves to a major section on ele-
ments of program support to families with young chil-
dren. The section is organized around seven areas
requiring decisions in the design and implementation of
family interventions. The variables examined here in-
clude leading candidates for indicators of quality in in-
terventions with families. If the field eventually is
successful in a search for what works in early interven-
tion, the list of attributes of effective interventions with
families likely will include some of the factors de-
scribed here. This section partly addresses the chapters
secondary interest in the translation of research to prac-
tice. It is organized by program variables and draws on
developmental and intervention research literatures in
an attempt to demonstrate the benefits of using findings
from both types of investigations.
The section on elements of program support to fam-
ilies is followed by an examination of five basic designs
of family interventions in early childhood. The designs
are defined by the program participant status of par-
ents (i.e., adjunct, supplementary, primary) and by
the scope of program goals and content focused on
family functioning (i.e., child- versus broad-focused).
These two dimensions represent dominant perspectives
on how best to achieve better outcomes for children at
risk. Illustrative interventions are described in each
of the five basic program designs, with attention to
program content and methods, effects, and whether
and how parent or family factors contribute to child
outcomes.
The chapters concluding section identifies needed
directions in family intervention program development
550 Families and Early Childhood Interventions
and research. Themes of this section emphasize inter-
vention responsiveness to family circumstances and use
of rigorous research methods in an incremental manner
to determine effective intervention elements.
DEFINITIONAL AND
LITERATURE PARAMETERS
Early intervention refers to a broad array of activities
designed to enhance a young childs development
(Ramey & Ramey, 1998, p. 110). These activities typi-
cally are provided through programs of early education
and care, services aimed at promoting positive parenting
and/or family functioning, and individualized develop-
mental or therapeutic services. Individual programs pro-
vide activities in one or more of these areas through
center- and/or home-based delivery systems.
There are two main literatures on early intervention,
defined by population group: children considered to be
at risk of developmental delay or academic difficulty,
generally due to family economic or educational status,
and children with identified disabilities or developmen-
tal delays. Programs serving the at-risk group tend to
emphasize the prevention of negative outcomes, whereas
interventions serving children with identified disabili-
ties or delays typically are viewed as remediation or
treatment programs (Ramey & Ramey, 1998).
Although the two literatures on early intervention are
seldom combined, in practice the program and popula-
tion boundaries are blurred. For example, early inter-
vention for young children with identified disabilities
and developmental delays supported by the federal Indi-
viduals with Disabilities Education Act may, at state
discretion, provide supports to children judged to be at
risk (e.g., multiproblem family). Head Start, conceived
as a program for children at risk due to poverty, requires
that a minimum of 10% of children have identified dis-
abilities but does not impose a low-income requirement
as a program eligibility criterion for children with dis-
abilities. Families with children receiving early inter-
vention services do not fall neatly into two groups. One
recent study of state early intervention services for chil-
dren with identified disabilities and developmental de-
lays found that families of children with developmental
delay had a median annual gross income just above the
poverty level (Diamond & Kontos, 2004).
This chapter focuses primarily on early intervention
for children deemed to be at risk of developmental delay
or academic difficulty. The risk indicators here gener-
ally include family socioeconomic status, adolescent
parenthood, and premature and low birthweight status.
In a modest step toward bridging the two early interven-
tion literatures, the chapter also draws on research on
early intervention for children with identified disabili-
ties or developmental delays. Certainly there are issues
unique to poverty and to disabilities that deserve careful
attention in designing and understanding early interven-
tion, and caution is needed with generalizations. At the
same time, consideration of commonalities and differ-
ences in findings across the two literatures provides a
stronger empirical base for contemplating advances in
intervention design and delivery.
Because the parent-child dyad is of special interest
to work with families in early intervention, the chapter
gives specific attention to parenting. I use an adapta-
tion of Bornsteins (2000) definition of parenting,
particularly direct ef fects on children of experiences
that parents provide, including parents beliefs and
behaviors, and indirect ef fects which take place through
parents relationships with each other, the daily rou-
tines and objects (e.g., books) available in the home
environment, and their connections to extrafamilial
support systems.
Due to space limitations, the chapter is based on early
intervention research conducted in the United States. The
international literature offers a rich comparative per-
spective on early childhood intervention (Boocock &
Larner, 1998), including research on several family inter-
ventions similar to programs examined in the United
States (e.g., Westheimer, 2003) and follow-up studies of
intervention effects such as a recent set of longitudinal
investigations sponsored by the Bernard van Leer Foun-
dation (www.bernardvanleer.org).
INFLUENCES ON THE ROLE OF FAMILIES
IN EARLY CHILDHOOD INTERVENTIONS
Approaches to families in early childhood interventions
in the United States have been shaped by conceptualiza-
tions of families and the findings of research on inter-
ventions and on childrens development in diverse
family contexts. Each of these domains of influence is
described here. To illustrate the contribution of these
influences to intervention work with families, the sec-
tion ends with a case description of the process through
which a content framework was developed for the par-
Inf luences on the Role of Families in Early Childhood Interventions 551
enting education component of the federal Even Start
Family Literacy Program.
Conceptualizations of Families
The form, substance, and process of approaches to fam-
ily interventions may be traced to powerful ideas about
family contributions to childrens development, the con-
texts of family functioning, and family resourcefulness.
Origins of these ideas include theory and research as
well as sociopolitical developments, particularly grow-
ing population diversity in the United States, the Civil
Rights movement, and the War on Poverty. Influential
constructs are the object of critical commentary and pe-
riodic refinement, and, as noted in the following discus-
sion, each of the prevalent perspectives on families is in
transition as intervention programs yield information
on the experiences of putting ideas into practice, schol-
ars question the empirical base of prevailing assump-
tions, and social policies such as welfare reform shape
family life.
Families as Developmental Contexts
Central to the early intervention field is the idea that
families are a significant context of early development.
For decades the notion that families matter has been
bolstered by theories and scientific evidence pointing
to the lasting impact of families on childrens develop-
ment and by research on the formative quality of the
early years.
Results of research linking family variables to child
outcomes do not necessarily lead to rationales for inter-
ventions aimed at changing and supporting families.
Some scholars have concluded from the family effects
literature that early intervention should compensate for,
and seek to reduce, family deficiencies by placing the
child in a high-quality early childhood program for most
of the childs waking hours, preferably as early in life
as possible. In extrapolations based on results of a longi-
tudinal study of family language interactions and chil-
drens intellectual outcomes, for example, Hart and
Risley (1995) estimated that children in families receiv-
ing welfare would need 41 hours per week of language-
rich, out-of-home experiences per week from birth to
equal the language experiences of children in average
working-class families.
In contrast, other researchers have inferred from the
family effects literature that a potentially more power-
ful and efficient way to improve child outcomes is
to support family capacity to promote the healthy de-
velopment of children. Early childhood interventions
that include complementary or exclusive work with
families are assumed to produce more powerful effects
through enduring changes in parenting and other fam-
ily processes than interventions that give minimal or no
substantive attention to parents and other family mem-
bers. An influential report by Bronfenbrenner (1974,
p. 300) on effects of early intervention bolstered this
argument with the conclusion that without family
involvement, intervention is likely to be unsuccessful,
and what few effects are achieved are likely to dis-
appear once the intervention is discontinued. This
conclusion was based largely on findings of several in-
tervention studies (e.g., Radin, 1972) indicating that
parent participation in the intervention helped to sus-
tain IQ gains after the program ended. Hence, the re-
port reinforced the expectation of continuing support
for improved child outcomes through enduring changes
in families.
The merits of child- and family-oriented programs
have long been debated in the early intervention litera-
ture (e.g., Zigler & Berman, 1983) and today remain an
active area of empirical investigation (e.g., Barnett,
Young, & Schweinhart, 1998; Reynolds, Ou, & Top-
itzes, 2004). At the core of this main feature of inter-
vention design are theoretical differences in whether
the primary locus of forces regulating developmental
change is internal or external to the child or a product
of interaction between internal and external forces
(P. A. Cowan, Powell, & Cowan, 1998). Although treat-
ments of this topic often dichotomize the issue as child-
versus parent-focused intervention, in reality programs
differ in the amount and type of attention given to par-
ents. All theories of child development have assumed
that laypersons need expert guidance in the rearing of
young children (Kessen, 1979), and parent education
has been viewed as a part of early childhood programs
since the establishment of nursery schools in the
United States in the early 1900s (D. R. Powell & Dia-
mond, 1995). A major distinction across programs,
then, is the extent to which intervention with the family
is considered integral to achieving sustained positive
effects on the child.
The magnitude of family effects on childrenover-
stated at times in research, policy, and early interven-
tion arenashas been challenged vigorously since
the mid-1990s (Rowe, 1994), notably in Harriss (1995,
552 Families and Early Childhood Interventions
1998) argument that parents have little or no influence
on their childrens outcomes. Her position has received
considerable academic attention (e.g., Collins, Mac-
coby, Steinberg, Hetherington, & Bornstein, 2000;
Okagaki & Luster, 2005), and it remains to be seen
whether a parents dont matter perspective ulti-
mately will influence early intervention approaches to
families. For the short term, criticisms of the family
effects literature have increased research interest in
family interventions because interventions with par-
ents are the best means available to social scientists
for testing the magnitude of family effects on children
(P. A. Cowan & Cowan, 2002), including Harriss
(2002) argument that changes in child behavior via in-
tervention in the home environment will not transfer to
changes in a childs behavior at school or in other set-
tings that do not involve the parent.
Families in Context
Since the mid-1970s, the early intervention field has
been influenced by the idea that families are embedded
in an interconnected system of formal and informal
resources at neighborhood and community levels that
vary dramatically in the provision of supports for indi-
vidual and family well-being. Interveners often commu-
nicate the essence of the developmental literature on
contextualism by citing the African proverb It takes a
whole village to raise a child. The prominence of this
idea has been advanced in part by societal interest in
the consequences of a rapidly changing social land-
scape characterized by increases in single-parent
households, mothers working outside the home, and the
racial, ethnic, and linguistic diversity of families.
A major contribution of ecological perspectives to
the early intervention field is increased awareness of
population differences. A priori assumptions cannot be
made that characteristics identified in one or several
groups exist or function in the same way in another
group (Lerner, 1998), and interventions found to be ef-
fective or ineffective with one population or context
may have a different pattern of results with a different
population or context. The notion that a particular pro-
gram model or strategy can work with any family or
parent has been replaced by questions about appropriate
ways to achieve program responsiveness to family cir-
cumstances (D. R. Powell, 2005).
Theory and research on the ecology of human devel-
opment also has expanded the content boundaries of in-
tervention interest in family functioning. The popularity
of the whole village statement represents a broaden-
ing, and sometimes abandonment, of program models
that assume the primary task with families is to provide
information on child development and parenting. In ad-
dition to or in lieu of parenting education, interventions
increasingly seek to strengthen a familys connections
with its larger environment as a means of improving
family support of positive child outcomes. One of four
goals of the federal Early Head Start Program, for exam-
ple, is community development, including improvements
in child care quality, community collaboration, and the
integration of supportive services to families (Love
et al., 2002). Programs also may attempt to facilitate use
of social support provided through informal sources
such as family, friends, and neighbors (Dunst, 2000).
Many interventions targeted at low-income families
take special interest in parents economic self-
sufficiency skills as a pathway to improved family
functioning and child outcomes. To this end, programs
provide services aimed at strengthening parents em-
ployment-related skills as well as child development
services that may include early childhood programs,
parenting education, and preventive health care. Inter-
ventions adhering to this approach, commonly called
two-generation programs (Smith & Zaslow, 1995), are
congruent with welfare reform policies that require
labor force participation and with changes in norms re-
garding womens roles in society.
Family interventions have encountered challenges in
translating broad constructs about family contexts to the
level of program design and implementation. A critical
and unresolved matter is determining specific variables
that can be efficiently and effectively targeted in myr-
iad interrelated and powerful influences on the daily
functioning of families living in poverty and other high-
risk conditions. In recognition of the absence of a magic
bullet, program designers have embraced the concept of
comprehensive services to families but struggled with
the availability, integration, and quality of existing ser-
vices provided by different agencies operating under dif-
ferent categorical funding streams and assumptions
about how best to support families (e.g., St. Pierre,
Layzer, & Barnes, 1998). There is a risk of minimal or
diffused focus on the child in social support interven-
tions (Dunst, 2000) and limited clarity on how to sub-
stantively combine child- and family-oriented services
(Mahoney et al., 1999). The field also has had to grapple
with some naive expectations of the rapidity and ease by
which education and employment-related services for
Inf luences on the Role of Families in Early Childhood Interventions 553
parents contribute to improved child outcomes (e.g.,
teach parents to read so they can read to their children).
Families as Resourceful
A third idea with growing influence on early interven-
tion is that family strengths should be marshaled to-
ward the optimal development of children and parents.
The strengths-based concept is supported by scholarly
work on the flow of social support in natural helping
systems (Cohen, Underwood, & Gottlieb, 2000), the
benefits of building on strengths in efforts to promote
individual and family well-being (Trivette, Dunst, &
Deal, 1997), and growing interest in the promotion of
positive development in contrast to the customary
focus on the treatment and prevention of negative
outcomes (Lerner, Fisher, & Weinberg, 2000; Pollard
& Rosenberg, 2003).
The build on family strengths idea is in part a
backlash against early intervention assumptions and
practices that emphasize family deficits. The early
1960s origins of intervention programs for children
from low-income families were based on a view of limi-
tations in family child-rearing practices, particularly in
the area of language use with children, as the primary
cause of low-income childrens school failures. A high
level of optimism about the plasticity of human devel-
opment during this era led to the expectation that early
education programs could provide children with school
readiness experiences missing in their home, thereby
moving children to a more productive developmental
trajectory in life. According to this view, readiness for
school resides in the child, and inadequate mothering is
an indirect cause of school failure. Early interventions
built on these premises were deemed to be blatant forms
of institutional racism (Baratz & Baratz, 1970), and
policies and practices that imposed middle-class Euro-
pean American values and practices on other popula-
tions were harshly criticized (Laosa, 1983).
These criticisms plus the press of the Civil Rights
movement and the War on Poverty led to an erosion of
support for the deficit perspective beginning in the late
1960s. Significant in this paradigm change was seminal
research such as Labovs (1970) work on African Amer-
ican dialect and Heaths (1983) study of language use in
low-income communities and the success of teachers in
building on cultural differences among children. There
was prompt abandonment of the term deficits in the
scholarly literature and an emphasis on differences in
depictions of family and community language systems
(Vernon-Feagans, 1996) and in descriptions of child-
rearing practices (Yando, Seitz, & Zigler, 1979).
Legislative actions in the 1960s and 1970s supported
the principle that families have resources to contribute
to intervention programs. The call for maximum feasi-
ble participation of families in programs supported by
the Economic Opportunity Act of 1964 functioned as an
impetus for Head Starts eventual decisions on how to
work with families (e.g., 51% of local policy council
members are parents), and federal legislation included
provisions for parental rights in decisions about a childs
educational placement and treatment plan. This oc-
curred in the context of larger concerns about rapidly in-
creasing professional involvement in functions and
decisions historically handled by the family (Lasch,
1977), ethical concerns about professional manipulation
of parents in intervention programs (Hess, 1980; Sigel,
1983), and whether the scientific base of child develop-
ment was sufficiently rigorous and definitive to warrant
professional edicts about how to rear young children
(Cochran & Woolever, 1983), particularly in racial and
ethnic minority families.
Current professional standards for early intervention
reflect a view of families as resourceful contributors to
program decisions and actions. The emphasis is on part-
nerships that promote family capacities and ensure
shared decision making with program staff rather than
view parents as helpmates in implementing program-
determined agendas (D. R. Powell, 2001). Early inter-
vention work with families is to focus on promotion
(versus treatment), individuals exercising existing capa-
bilities and developing new competencies (versus pro-
fessionals solving problems for people), defining
practice from a broad range of community resources
(versus mostly or exclusively professional services), and
programs as agents of families, responsive to family de-
sires and concerns (versus professionals as experts who
determine clients needs; Dunst & Trivette, 1997).
Evidence suggests there is a gap between principles
and practice in the implementation of standards regard-
ing program relationships with families. Studies point to
limited attention to family outcomes and supports in
individualized family service plans (e.g., McWilliam
et al., 1998), for example. The emphasis on family re-
sourcefulness has triggered clarifications of the roles of
professionals in early interventions (Buysse & Wesley,
1993) and reconsiderations of professional preparation
for working with families (McBride & Brotherson,
1997; D. R. Powell, 2000) as programs seek ways to
554 Families and Early Childhood Interventions
carry out a strengths-based approach. This situation in
the early intervention field reflects conditions in a
broader movement toward the promotion of child well-
being wherein there is an upsurge of interest in policies
and programs that promote positive outcomes, but con-
siderable conceptual, methodological, and empirical
work is needed (Moore & Keyes, 2003).
Empirical Knowledge
Prominent ideas about families provide intervention de-
signers and staff with a common point of reference for
work with families and an accessible language for com-
municating with policymakers and the lay public about
intervention goals and practices. By themselves, how-
ever, big ideas generally offer insufficient guidance for
fine-tuning the design and implementation of an inter-
vention. Sound bite representations of basic constructs
(e.g., families matter ) may foster simplistic program
assumptions and actions (e.g., when the family is okay,
the child is okay). To add essential details, program de-
signers and staff have long turned to professional knowl-
edge or clinical judgment derived from accumulated
experiences with a population and intervention modal-
ity (Shonkoff, 2000). To a lesser extent, they also have
turned to empirical research as a source of information
on family intervention design and implementation. The
use of education and social science to inform practice is
a complex and poorly understood topic (Shonkoff, 2000;
Sigel, 1998), and family interventions in early childhood
are no exception to a general pattern of limited or miss-
ing connections between research and design and imple-
mentation of education and human services.
Expansion of the early intervention field has oc-
curred along several paths with regard to the role of
empirical knowledge. One is the classical research and
program development strategy wherein an intervention
model is tested in a single or multiple sites and repli-
cated in additional sites only after outcome data offer
promise of positive effects. Another path is implementa-
tion of a program on a large-scale basis without the ben-
efit of results from rigorous study of smaller-scale
programs to guide staged or incremental expansion of
the model (Yoshikawa, Rosman, & Hsueh, 2002).
With a few striking exceptions, our knowledge of
causal relations regarding the role of families in early in-
terventions is too limited to support widespread expan-
sion and replication of most program models. Although
the use of random assignment is growing in intervention
research, investigations designed to identify what works
in early interventionsthat is, studies with the greatest
potential to inform program design and implementation
decisionsgenerally have not used experimental de-
signs. For instance, within-group comparisons are com-
monly used to determine whether intervention effects
vary by population characteristics, sometimes in a post
hoc search for any intervention effects (D. R. Powell,
2005). Moreover, randomized trials in intervention
research commonly examine the effectiveness of a treat-
ment variable that is actually a composite of many vari-
ables (e.g., curriculum, intensity, staffing), usually
organized in a complex manner. In D. T. Campbells
(1986) proposed renaming of internal validity with local
molar causal validity, the word molar represented this
multivariate quality of interventions. Results of experi-
mental study of an intervention that, in essence, is an
intervention package leave to speculation the identifica-
tion of important elements of an intervention. Thus, in-
terveners who adopt some but not all of an intervention
run the risk of omitting a key attribute of the program
package (Shadish, Cook, & Campbell, 2002).
Our understanding of family contributions to chil-
drens development is also limited. Most of what is
known about child-family context relations is derived
from correlational studies. Because children cannot be
randomly assigned to different environmental conditions,
researchers have depended, sometimes brilliantly (e.g.,
effects of the Great Depression; Elder, 1974), on natu-
rally occurring variations to examine links between child
and environment. Self-selection is among the serious
problems of this approach.
Further, growing interest in the role of context in
child development and early intervention has accentu-
ated issues in generalizing the results of developmental
and intervention research. Three factors underlie this
problem. One is the shallow level of empirical science
on the diverse populations increasingly served by pro-
grams. Context and diversity have been addressed in
theoretical work to a greater extent than in research, and
existing research on group differences is often limited
by insufficient attention to individual differences within
groups and by overlaps among race, ethnicity, culture,
and socioeconomic status (Garcia Coll & Magnuson,
2000). A second factor is that, as noted earlier, evidence
pointing to population-specific links between child-
rearing patterns and child outcomes raises questions
about the need for population-specific intervention con-
tent. A small but impressive set of early intervention
Inf luences on the Role of Families in Early Childhood Interventions 555
models have had the opportunity to address external va-
lidity questions through consecutive randomized trials
with different populations and contexts (Kitzman et al.,
2000; Olds, Henderson, Chamberlin, & Tatelbaum,
1986; Olds et al., 2002) or implementation with a suffi-
cient number of ethnically diverse families to permit
analyses by population group (Reid, Webster-Stratton,
& Beauchaine, 2001). A third factor is disagreements
both in developmental and intervention research litera-
tures regarding the extent to which universal knowledge
is possible. Relativistic arguments that all developmen-
tal processes are culturally dependent (e.g., Shweder,
1993) or that interventions cannot be objectively defined
(e.g., Olson, 2003) essentially imply that each interven-
tion needs to invent itself.
An obvious consequence of this state of developmen-
tal and intervention research is that empirical science
cannot be used to significantly help interventions act on
some currently prominent ideas on how to work with
families. One example is the growing interest in fathers.
Research on father-child relationships across different
contexts has matured in the past 2 decades (Lamb,
2003), but intervention research has not kept pace with
increases in the range of programs and program compo-
nents targeted at fathers (Mincy & Pouncy, 2002).
Another example is the emphasis on family systems.
References to families and to family systems dominate
descriptions of early intervention understandings of
childrens developmental contexts, but family systems
research is an emerging topic in the developmental sci-
ences. The empirical literature on family effects is pri-
marily about parenting and parent-child interactions and
relationships (Parke & Buriel, 1998). Not surprisingly,
most family-oriented program practices are a variant
of parenting education generally aimed at mothers. A
less obvious consequence of research limitations is that
ethical problems arise when interveners fill data voids
with information or advice to families that transcends
the limits of empirical science or overstate the effec-
tiveness of an intervention to participants and policy-
makers (P. A. Cowan et al., 1998).
Future generations of intervention programs may
have the benefit of more and better information on
causal relations in child-family interactions and inter-
vention processes. Currently, there is strong emphasis
on internal validity in experimental research. Influential
reports recommend greater use of rigorous intervention
studies to improve child outcomes (e.g., National Re-
search Council, 2002; National Research Council and
Institute of Medicine, 2000), for example, and the fed-
eral government is shaping the dissemination of findings
from research on replicable interventions within a best
practices framework (e.g., the What Works Clearing-
house established by the Institute of Education Science).
More and better research data on context and diver-
sity eventually may provide an empirical basis for deter-
mining what type of population-specific content is
needed in interventions with particular populations. In
time, a more robust database also may help shift the
focus of existing debates about the utility of generaliza-
tions. A major task in generating a culturally sensitive
approach to the study of child development is to strike a
balance between cultural relativism and absolute univer-
salism (Parke, 2004). In the absence of adequate re-
search knowledge, a strategy of forming relationships
with families that enable their idiosyncratic strengths to
shape the intervention process is far superior to the risks
of attempting to translate a limited database into inter-
vention content (Brinker, 1992).
A certain level of local reinvention in the development
of an intervention may be a necessary step as interveners
actively learn the boundaries and details of their collec-
tive and individual work. Generalizations are broadband
by definition and typically in need of fine-tuning in appli-
cations to particular contexts. Local data can play a com-
plementary role here. For example, Neuman and her
colleagues (Neuman, Hagedorn, Celano, & Daly, 1995)
gathered data on African American adolescent mothers
beliefs about childrens literacy development and used
their findings, which emphasized within-group differ-
ences, to individualize the presentation of program con-
tent. As a complement to locally generated data and to the
relatively small samples common to developmental re-
search, national survey data on families and young chil-
dren offer a potentially useful source of information to
developers and implementers of intervention programs.
One recent national survey, for example, found that
nearly 80% of parents reported that grandparents lived
within an hours drive from their home, and 70% re-
ported having many friends and relatives they can count
on. These data appear to refute the typical portrayal of
young families disconnected from family and friends due
to geographic mobility (Halfon & McLearn, 2002).
A Case Illustration
In 1998, I was invited by the federal administrator re-
sponsible for the Even Start Family Literacy Program in
556 Families and Early Childhood Interventions
the U.S. Department of Education to develop guidance
to local programs regarding the content and method of
the parenting education component of the Even Start
Program. The assignment was carried out in collabora-
tion with Diane DAngelo, a seasoned early childhood
practitioner and senior staff member at the RMC Re-
search Corporation, and resulted in a U.S. Department
of Education publication (D. R. Powell & DAngelo,
2000; see also D. R. Powell, 2004) widely distributed to
Even Start Programs as well as numerous presentations
at national and regional Even Start meetings. In essence,
the assignment was an experiment in translating domi-
nant conceptualizations of families and research on
family literacy environments into concrete suggestions
for programs on how to promote parenting that fosters
early literacy development.
The Even Start Program was created as a demonstra-
tion program in 1988 through congressional action that
called for the integration of early childhood, adult edu-
cation, and parenting education into a program aimed at
improving the literacy skills of all family members.
Goals are to help parents become full partners in the ed-
ucation of their children, to assist children in reaching
their full potential as learners, and to provide literacy
training for their parents. Core services include early
childhood education from birth to 8 years of age, adult
education services that develop basic educational and
literacy skills, parenting education, and joint parent-
child activities focused on early literacy development.
There is emphasis on programmatic integration of these
core services, and families are expected to participate in
all core services. To be eligible for program participa-
tion, a family must have an adult who is eligible for
adult basic education and a child less than 8 years of age
(St. Pierre & Swartz, 1995). The program was imple-
mented in 76 sites in 1989, and by 1999 to 2000 had
grown to more than 800 local projects.
Since the inception of Even Start, the parenting com-
ponent has been a challenging aspect of the program for
several reasons. One is that parenting education was de-
fined in general terms in the legislation establishing
Even Start, and programs have used a variety of com-
mercial and locally developed curricula that generally
focus on ages and stages of child development, often
with little focused attention to early literacy develop-
ment. Second, many Even Start Programs appeared to be
staffing the parenting education component with indi-
viduals who had limited preparation for the role. In most
communities in the United States, the availability of
qualified personnel to provide parenting education is se-
verely restricted because there are few baccalaureate
degree programs and certification programs in parent-
ing education. In general, the field of parenting educa-
tion is less well developed than the fields of adult
education and early childhood education. There are no
commonly accepted standards for parenting education;
in contrast, there are highly regarded benchmarks of ap-
propriate practice in early childhood education and in
adult education. Third, across a range of programs, there
have been reports of resistance from some parents to
participate in parenting education (e.g., it is seen by
some as a distraction from work toward the general
equivalency diploma). An early national evaluation of
Even Start indicated that the parenting education com-
ponent was not one of the main appeals for participation.
Although the anticipated results of the guidance on how
the Even Start Program might improve its work with
parentsa federal publication and series of conference
presentationscould not be expected to significantly
change this situation, the development of a conceptual
framework on the role of parents in fostering childrens
literacy was viewed as an essential foundation for im-
proving the Even Start parenting education component.
The guidance to programs was developed through a
review of research literatures on family contributions to
young childrens early literacy development and early
school success and on methods of parenting education;
extensive consultation with family literacy program
practitioners; visits to 12 local Even Start Programs for
the purpose of observing promising practices in parent-
ing education that might serve as illustrations to other
programs; and feedback on early drafts of the guidance
document provided by local Even Start Program staff,
state coordinators of Even Start Programs, researchers
familiar with the Even Start Program, and U.S. Depart-
ment of Education officials.
Our first direct exposure to the challenges of finding
common ground involving research-based guidance on
family practices regarding early literacy and the diver-
sity of prevailing approaches to parenting education in
Even Start occurred in early consultations with practi-
tioners about a goal statement for the parenting educa-
tion component. We proposed a goal statement focused
on childrens literacy outcomes, in view of the larger
literacy goals of the Even Start Family Literacy Pro-
gram. This was well received by some practitioners but
Inf luences on the Role of Families in Early Childhood Interventions 557
deemed to be too narrow by others who viewed the par-
enting education component as appropriately addressing
a wide range of content, including self-esteem, the em-
powerment of parents, and coping with the difficult
contexts of poverty. The compromise was a goal state-
ment fully focused on childrens literacy outcomes and
content that embraces a range of topics coupled with
suggestions that programs begin where parents are by
initially engaging parents around content that seems
most appropriate to their current circumstance (e.g.,
moved to a safer neighborhood) and eventually moving
toward sustained focus on family practices that directly
support childrens literacy development. The goal state-
ment is as follows: The overall goal of parenting edu-
cation in Even Start Family Literacy Programs is to
strengthen parents support of their young childrens
literacy development and early school success (D. R.
Powell & DAngelo, 2000, p. 5). The content is organ-
ized into five domains:
1. Engage in language-rich parent-child interactions.
2. Provide supports for literacy in the family.
3. Hold appropriate expectations of childs learning and
development.
4. Actively embrace the parenting role.
5. Form and maintain connections with community and
other resources.
This compromise position initially was of concern to
practitioners who wanted a report focused on a small
set of specific family practices. Some Even Start Pro-
grams, for instance, promote the primary message
Read to your child, and their representatives to the
consultation process wanted the guidance document to
focus exclusively on this message. Our description of
studies indicating that shared book reading accounted
for about 8% of the variance in childrens early reading
abilities (e.g., Scarborough & Dobrich, 1994) often was
met with disbelief. Further, our argument that research
suggests there is not a silver bullet for school readiness,
that many studies use composite measures of family lit-
eracy environment that make it impossible to identify
specific practices or environmental conditions, and that
other practices, including how to read with young chil-
dren, should be emphasized in a guidance document
typically was met with the response that program staff
and parents may become confused with information on
too many family correlates of early literacy develop-
ment. For these programs, content in the domain of
form and maintain connections with community and
other resources appeared to be viewed as social work,
not parenting education. Further, our document did not
communicate key practices through acronyms or key
words found in some other research-based recommenda-
tions for parenting practices (e.g., Borkowski, Ramey,
& Stile, 2002).
The literature review work also encountered the per-
sistent issues of causality and generalizability noted in
the prior section of this chapter. Our numerous consulta-
tions with practitioners made clear that prospec
ive users of the program guidance work desired clear
language about effects of family environments and par-
enting practices on childrens literacy outcomes. Practi-
tioners noted, for instance, the extensive trade book
literature on 10 steps to a brighter child and indicated
that, to ensure use of the guidance document, we would
need to offer assurances that specific family conditions
produce early school success, as commonly found in
mass circulation periodicals and books. Our final report
attempted to accommodate this situation through text
that reflected the correlational nature of existing stud-
ies but a one-page summary chart that used a sentence-
completion format beginning with the stem, Parents
strengthen their childrens literacy development and
school-related competence when they . . . (D. R. Powell
& DAngelo, 2000, p. 6). Although confined to one
page, the chart entailed more sentence-completion bul-
lets (17 in the five aforementioned domains) than some
practitioners preferred, as noted earlier.
The generalizability issues we encountered in our
work stemmed primarily from the limited amount of
research on low-income and ethnic minority popula-
tionsthe Even Start target populationregarding
family factors associated with childrens literacy out-
comes. Most of the research on family literacy environ-
ments focuses on parents (typically mothers), not family
variables, in middle-class European American popula-
tions. Although research on parenting seems compatible
with the goal of developing guidance for a parenting ed-
ucation component, it would be far preferable to speak
to family factors in a program that seeks to serve the en-
tire family.
Responses to these issues in the field of family liter-
acy programs illustrate possible implications for the con-
tent of work with families in early interventions. By
558 Families and Early Childhood Interventions
design, family literacy programs typically serve families
with adult members who have limited levels of education
and income and often are English-language learners rela-
tively new to the United States.
The fact that the extant research literature on family
contributions to childrens literacy development generally
does not represent populations that family interventions
typically serve has generated a range of responses in the
family literacy program field (D. R. Powell, Okagaki, &
Bojczyk, 2004). At one end of a continuum are rationales
for sharing with lower-income, ethnic minority families
what we know from research on how primarily middle-
class European American families successfully support
childrens early reading success. At the approximate mid-
point are programs that seek to learn about and accommo-
date the interests and preferences of culturally diverse
parents, while promoting practices known to foster chil-
drens literacy development in middle-class European
American families. At the other end are programs organ-
ized exclusively around and within the sociocultural con-
texts of participants. The family support field has many
historical and contemporary examples of programs that as-
sume the most valid and useful knowledge about the rear-
ing of children is lodged among the people . . . rather than
in the heads of college professors, trained professionals, or
the books written by so-called experts (Cochran &
Woolever, 1983, p. 229). Clearly, this is a field with strik-
ingly different perspectives on family resourcefulness.
In our consultations for development of the Even Start
guide, practitioners who saw value in sharing results of
existing research saw no difficulty with our plan to de-
velop a conceptual framework based on the extant litera-
ture. For those adhering to a sociocultural perspective on
family literacy, however, there was a high level of concern
about a guide based heavily on research involving middle-
class populations. There was specific criticism of the de-
sign and results of the aforementioned Hart and Risley
(1995) study, which appeared to command a high level of
receptive attention in the Department of Education at the
time of our work. Some practitioners took issue with the
Hart and Risley comparisons of professional, working-
class, and welfare families, arguing that the language
environments of low-income families had distinctive qual-
ities not appreciated by mainstream society and that
schools and other institutions needed to accommodate di-
verse family culture rather than expect families to change
their interaction styles to accommodate schools. This is a
familiar argument, of course, yet the final draft of the
guide endorsed a perspective that all parties involved in
the schooling enterprise, including schools and families,
share joint responsibility for childrens learning. Further,
the guidance documents emphasis on responsiveness to
cultural diversity addressed specific program practices
that, based on our visits to program sites, might facilitate
fuller participation of adults from diverse families in pro-
gram services. For instance, we found that in many pro-
grams, the preschool components curriculum emphasis
on follow the childs lead in teaching practices was also
carried out in the parent-child interaction time component
of the program. Yet, our observations suggested that
in programs strongly adhering to this approach, some par-
ents (e.g., Latinas) appeared to view the concept as a for-
eign idea, apparently preferring that adults, not children,
take the lead in directing the learning interaction. In con-
trast, programs subscribing to a more adult-led approach
seemed to have a higher level of parent participation dur-
ing the parent-child literacy interaction time. Our reports
suggestion that programs remain flexible and responsive
in their approaches to the adult-child interaction time,
because not all parent populations appear to see value in
the follow the childs lead philosophy, was controver-
sial among practitioners expressing support for a child-
centered curriculum and opposition to adult-directed
learning experiences.
In many ways, development of the guidance document
was a goodness-of-fit journey that entailed negotiated
understandings of how programs make use of the
strengths and limitations of existing research and work
with what families bring to program settings. The con-
sultation process and site visits introduced us to numer-
ous program assumptions, often unspoken yet fully
evident in program services, and our greatest challenges
occurred when our understanding of the extant research
literature conflicted with prevailing program ideas and
practices. Because research is far from definitive in this
arena, we found it appropriate and useful to organize
and communicate research results through a focus on
general principles and illustrative practices rather than
prescriptions for practice. Perhaps the most important
contribution of the guidance document is clarity on out-
come (childrens literacy development).
ELEMENTS OF PROGRAMMATIC
SUPPORT TO FAMILIES
The design and implementation of family interventions
require decisions in the following seven areas: content,
Elements of Programmatic Support to Families 559
participants, delivery format, intensity, staffing, target-
ing and recruiting families, and host agency supports for
program implementation. Each of these areas may be
viewed as a program lever for supporting family contri-
butions to childrens growth and development.
In this section, research on families and child devel-
opment and on early intervention work with families is
reviewed selectively in each of the seven program design
and implementation areas to highlight options in deter-
mining the substance and form of program connections
with families. The focus of many early childhood inter-
vention studies was broadened in the mid-1980s to in-
clude questions about what works and what works
for whom, in addition to customary attention to pro-
gram effects (Guralnick, 1997; Korfmacher, 2001; D. R.
Powell, 2005). The current yield of searches for what
works in early interventions is promising but insuffi-
ciently robust to offer a list of indicators of quality in
intervention work with families. Accordingly, the treat-
ment of the seven program design and implementation
areas does not offer a summary of best practices.
The family and child development studies noted
briefly and selectively emphasize research trends wor-
thy of consideration in intervention design decisions. It
is well beyond the scope of this chapter to summarize
the family and child development research literature rel-
evant to the specific populations and developmental do-
mains that particular interventions address.
Distinctions between basic and applied research are
increasingly blurred, if not artificial, and intervention
research has considerable potential to contribute to our
understanding of person-context relations in child devel-
opment (P. A. Cowan & Cowan, 2002; Lerner, 1998). An
intent of organizing this section by key attributes of in-
terventions versus by type of research literatures is to
demonstrate the utility of building on coordinated use
of developmental and intervention researches to formu-
late decisions about program design and implementation
aimed at improving childrens well-being.
Content
A common answer to the question of what information
to share with families is to use an early childhood class-
room curriculum as the content base of work with fami-
lies. For programs where children participate in an early
childhood classroom, a presumed advantage of this strat-
egy is curriculum continuity: Classroom activities and
experiences are extended to and reinforced in the home.
A potential limitation of this arrangement is that the
program does not engage a family on its own terms. That
is, content may not build on unique contributions of fam-
ilies to childrens development, including parents goals
for their children. Research on educational outcomes has
long recognized the distinctive influences of families
and schools on childrens educational attainment (e.g.,
Coleman et al., 1966), and qualitative differences be-
tween parenting and teaching have been set forth theo-
retically (Katz, 1980). In this vein, a premise of some
interventions is that learning at home is often incidental
to other ongoing activities (Neuman, 1999) and that sug-
gestions for new parent and child behaviors need to be
woven into daily family routines. For interventions seek-
ing to develop or tailor content around family research
literature, the four domains of knowledge described next
offer implications for program content decisions.
Early Development in Context
A starting point for decisions about the content of work
with families in early intervention programs is research
on family processes associated with childrens develop-
ment. This literature offers a broad domain of possible
content for early intervention work with families, but
historically interventions have narrowed their interest in
families to parenting. A result is program messages
about the importance of parent responsiveness, monitor-
ing, mentoring, and modeling (Borkowski et al., 2002).
Parenting is only one dimension of family processes,
and, although it is an appropriate way for interveners to
think about and connect with families, intervention at-
tention to parenting may be more appropriately situated
in the dynamic network of factors that affect childrens
development.
Research on structural dimensions of families (e.g.,
one-parent households) and child development has been
of interest to interventions in terms of understanding
how variables such as household composition might
moderate program effects (e.g., Cole, Kitzman, Olds, &
Sidora, 1998), but in general, family configuration has
been viewed as an ethically inappropriate target of
change in early interventions. Currently, this stance is
being challenged by prominent initiatives and calls for
the promotion of marriage (e.g., Waite & Gallagher,
2000) in federal policies and in social programs such as
Head Start.
Research on racial, ethnic, and cultural contexts of
family processes and child development is crucial to de-
cisions about the content of early intervention work with
560 Families and Early Childhood Interventions
families because family child-rearing beliefs and prac-
tices are embedded in these contexts (McLoyd, 1998)
and because families served by early intervention in-
creasingly represent backgrounds other than European
American, although intervention staff often are Euro-
pean American. There is a growing literature on the
child-rearing practices and concerns of different popula-
tion groups, including African American, Latino, Native
American, and Asian American (e.g., Parke & Buriel,
1998) and some evidence to suggest that links between
parenting practices and child outcomes differ by popula-
tion group. For example, mothers reported use of harsh
physical discipline has been found to be associated with a
higher frequency of childrens externalizing behavior
problems in school for European American children but
not for African American children (Deater-Deckard,
Dodge, Bates, & Pettit, 1996), and ethnic group differ-
ences have been found in the relation of parents expec-
tations and beliefs to childrens school achievement
(Okagaki & Frensch, 1998).
Economic resources and parent education level are
similarly influential contextual variables that often are
confounded with race and ethnicity. Studies of socioe-
conomic status (SES) and child development outcomes
are especially helpful to decisions about interven-
tion design when results shed light on causal mecha-
nisms by which SES influences family processes and
childrens outcomes (Duncan, Brooks-Gunn, Yeung, &
Smith, 1998; Lerner, 2003) and when attention is given
to within-group differences such as cumulative effects
of stress when living in poverty (e.g., Evans, 2004;
McLoyd, 1998).
At a minimum, research on population group differ-
ences in family processes and child development can be
used in a due diligence effort to inform intervention
staff in general terms about the population it seeks to
serve. This is a first and critical step toward developing
the cross-cultural competence of interveners (Hanson,
1992; Yutrzenka, 1995). Essential understandings here
include traditional child-rearing values and practices as
well as collective historical experiences such as the Na-
tive American boarding school movement (Harjo, 1993).
Research on acculturation and assimilation experiences,
including bicultural adaptation, is especially useful to
interventions such as family literacy programs serving
populations that are new to the United States and/or to
mainstream systems. In addition to generating a popula-
tion profile, research findings suggestive of population-
specific links between child-rearing practices and child
outcomes imply a need for population-specific content
in interventions with families. There has been move-
ment in this direction in the parenting education field
for African American and Latino families, but method-
ological limitations of existing evaluations limit our un-
derstanding of the effectiveness of these efforts (Cheng
Gorman & Balter, 1997).
Family child-rearing processes are also influenced
by person variables such as maternal depression (e.g.,
Embry & Dawson, 2002) and child temperament
(e.g., Kochanska, 1997). Research on effects of a child
disability on families suggests that there is increased
risk of divorce and financial pressures, and indirect
negative consequences for siblings (e.g., Hogan &
Msall, 2002). Studies of the role of person variables in
family processes, particularly bidirectional influences,
can be used to inform intervention content that helps
family members appropriately respond to the person
characteristics of concern. Interventions that formulate
goals and content around parent variables such as de-
pression need to decide whether changes in the targeted
variable provide a direct pathway to improved child out-
comes or desired changes in the targeted parent variable
are the first of several steps toward improved child
outcomes (e.g., first improve relationship skills, then
increase child-rearing knowledge and skills; Booth,
Mitchell, Barnard, & Spieker, 1989).
Relationships as Developmental Contexts
One clear trend in child development research is the
focus on interpersonal relationships as developmental
contexts. Bowlbys (1969) attachment theory offers a
substantive foundation of this orientation, and corre-
sponding research now transcends the social-emotional
domain generally pursued in attachment studies. For ex-
ample, in a study of mother-child joint book reading,
Bus and van IJzendoorn (1988) found that securely at-
tached dyads paid more attention to reading instruction
and engaged in more proto-reading, there was less need
to discipline, and children were less distracted than in
anxiously attached dyads. A relationships perspective
on early development and learning suggests that the con-
tent of interventions with families should be framed
within dyadic and other family relationships. Guidance
on how to read with young children, for example, should
account for the interpersonal context in which the read-
ing takes place.
Elements of Programmatic Support to Families 561
Early intervention work with families typically deals
with the mother-child dyad, often independent of a fam-
ily system that likely includes many other subsystems,
including father-child, child-sibling, marital /partner,
sibling-parent, and extended kith and kin systems. Theo-
retical models of linkages among family subsystems
(e.g., Luster & Okagaki, 1993; Parke & Buriel, 1998)
and of a family systems approach to parenting interven-
tions (C. P. Cowan et al., 1985; P. A. Cowan et al., 1998)
have been developed. However, other than research on
the direct and indirect relationships of the marital /part-
ner subsystem quality to child outcomes (e.g., Cum-
mings, Goeke-Morey, & Graham, 2002), studies to date
neither specify the pathways through which different
family subsystems exert their influence (Parke & Buriel,
1998) nor clarify the relative weight of parent-child rela-
tionships versus other family relationships in relation to
child outcomes (Parke & ONeil, 1997). Thus, currently
there is a limited empirical basis for early interventions
to generate specific content that recognizes the embed-
dedness of the child and parent-child relationships
within a system of family influences.
Individual and Family Support Systems
Another program content decision stemming from eco-
logical perspectives on child and family development is
how early interventions address social supports for fam-
ily members, including a parents life course goals such
as additional schooling or employment. Generally, inter-
vention actions aimed at improving family support sys-
tems are viewed as requisite to improved individual or
family functioning so that focused work eventually can
be pursued with child development content.
Intervention attention to individual and family support
systems can require considerable staff time and energy
(e.g., enrolling a parent in an adult education program
most likely will require arrangements for transportation
and child care) and is a major undertaking with families
living in high-stress circumstances. Home visitors often
report that a familys pressing life circumstances take
precedence over a programs child development content;
for example, If a mother isnt making it financially, and
shes just had a fight with her boyfriend, and hes just
split, there aint no way I can just say to her, okay, lets
you and I go play a game with the child (Mindick,
1986, p. 83).
Interventions run the risk of having no impact on child
outcomes if pressing family matters dominate program
work with families. An early example of this point is the
Child and Family Resource Program, a family-
oriented early intervention that gave minimal attention to
parenting and child development content with parents in
part because family crises occupied the joint agenda of
intervener and family. The intervention improved some
aspects of adult functioning but had no effects on child
outcomes (Travers, Irwin, & Nauta, 1981; Travers,
Nauta, & Irwin, 1982). There appears to be no interven-
tion research evidence to support the idea that improve-
ments in the provision of social supports is a direct
pathway to improved child outcomes. A meta-analysis
of 88 preventive interventions focused on enhancing
parental sensitivity and infant attachment found that in-
terventions with a clear-cut behavioral focus on parental
sensitivity were more effective than interventions with a
broader content focus that included attention to social
support and parents mental representations as well as
parental sensitivity (Bakermans-Kranenburg, van IJzen-
doorn, & Juffer, 2003).
A major content decision in this domain is the spe-
cific focus of attempts to improve supports for individ-
ual and family functioning. One option is a mediator
role, such as case management aimed at strengthening
links with informal and formal resources. The inter-
veners work here entails referral to needed services
and, in some cases, active involvement in ensuring that
services are accessed (e.g., driving a family member to
a clinic appointment) and are responsive to a familys
circumstance (e.g., finding an agency staff person who
speaks the familys language). A concurrent or alterna-
tive option is to train parents in skills related to effec-
tive development and use of support resources (e.g.,
problem-solving skills; Wasik, Bryant, Lyons, Sparling,
& Ramey, 1997).
Family Members Views of Their Situation
Because early intervention programs generally focus on
proximal processes involving the child and family, and
not distal contexts, research that increases our under-
standing of how families make sense of, navigate, and
help shape their ecological niches can be especially use-
ful. Studies that link family child-rearing practices to
prevailing understandings and beliefs within different
types of families may be particularly useful in helping
interveners anticipate how to approach the introduction
of a program or given topic to families. Parents and other
primary caregivers are not blank slates. They filter, edit,
562 Families and Early Childhood Interventions
and process program information in relation to existing
constructs, goals, pressing issues (Goodnow, 2000; D. R.
Powell, 1988), and perhaps the views of one or more in-
fluential others who may not be visibly involved in the
intervention.
The ways family members act on their perceptions
of the larger environment are one route by which con-
text influences child rearing. Interventions that focus
on content independent of family members ideas about
the world they and their children live in may take us
only along part of the road toward improved child out-
comes (Goodnow, 2000, p. 441). For example, research
on strategies used by families to buffer their children
from violence in a high-risk African American neigh-
borhood illustrates how mothers danger management
efforts (e.g., monitoring, cautionary warnings, in-home
learning, resource brokering) serve as intervening
processes that mediate effects of community conditions
on family functioning and outcomes (Jarrett & Jeffer-
son, 2003, 2004).
Participants
There is a limited but growing body of research to inform
program decisions about what members of a family or
household should be encouraged to participate in a family
intervention. An early experimental study on this topic
regarding adult family members, conducted with well-
educated European Americans to determine the effec-
tiveness of newborn interventions, employed the Brazel-
ton Neonatal Behavioral Assessment Scale as a tool
for influencing parental behavior. The study found short-
term positive effects on mothers and fathers who jointly
participated in the intervention (versus mother partici-
pating without the babys father) and who were highly
engaged in the intervention (Belsky, 1986). With higher-
risk populations, household composition (i.e., whether
a new mother lives alone or with her partner or the
babys grandmother; Cole et al., 1998) and mothers per-
ceived quality of her partners support (i.e., communicate
clearly, express affection, low levels of hostility;
Heinicke et al., 1998) have been found to moderate inter-
vention outcomes. A meta-analysis of interventions aimed
at improving either parental sensitivity or infant attach-
ment or both found that interventions involving fathers
were more effective than interventions focusing on moth-
ers only, but the analysis included a small number of
interventions targeting fathers (Bakermans-Kranenburg
et al., 2003). More generally, it appears that effects of
planned variation in the joint participation of parent and
significant other(s) in an intervention have not been ex-
amined in higher-risk populations.
The growing research literature on fathers and child
development, coupled with societal concern about the
limits or absence of father contributions to child rearing
and other family functions, has accelerated intervention
attention to fathers, as noted earlier. Many families in-
volved in family interventions differ from the modal
family type that developmentalists have examined in
father-child relationship studies (Marsiglio, Amato,
Day, & Lamb, 2000). Interveners face challenges of de-
termining which fathers to involve in a program when
more than one man plays a fathering role in a childs life
(e.g., nonresident biological father, a resident stepfather,
a grandfather or other male relative; Roggman, Fitzger-
ald, Bradley, & Raikes, 2002). Program staff also need
to recognize the benefits and problems of adapting
methods that work with mothers in approaches to fa-
thers (Roggman et al., 2002), a nuance perhaps con-
nected to the finding that mature programs are more
likely than newer programs to involve fathers (Raikes,
Summers, & Roggman, 2005). The gatekeeping role of
women in nonresident fathers and stepfathers relation-
ships with their children also needs attention in program
designs and actions (Raikes et al., 2005).
A major implication and challenge of viewing rela-
tionships as developmental contexts is to establish pro-
ductive connections with the important relationship
systems in a family. The customary practice is for in-
tervention staff to develop separate relationships with
each member of a family dyad or triad. Certainly the
interveners relationship with the parent or primary
caregiver, typically the priority relationship in inter-
ventions, is valuable in its own right and a point of ac-
cess to the family. But what may be more important is
how the intervener manages his or her relationship to
the parent-child relationship (Emde & Robinson, 2000)
and to the partner relationship (C. P. Cowan, Cowan, &
Heming, 2005).
Format
Discussion groups and home visits have rich histories of
use in early childhood interventions that reflect differ-
ent assumptions about how best to facilitate growth and
change in families, specifically the peer learning and
support presumed to exist in discussion groups and the
tailoring to family circumstances afforded in home vis-
Elements of Programmatic Support to Families 563
its (Bryant &Wasik, 2004). An early quasi-experimental
study found that long-term peer discussion groups
produced stronger effects on maternal child-rearing atti-
tudes than home visits (Slaughter, 1983), and a meta-
analysis of 665 studies of 260 family support programs,
98% of which offered parenting education, found that
parent groups produced stronger effects on child out-
comes than home visiting (Layzer, Goodson, Bernstein,
& Price, 2001). The average effect sizes for parent
groups as the primary method of delivering education
were .54 when targeted to children at biological risk and
.27 when used with nontargeted populations, compared
to average effect sizes for home visiting of .36 when tar-
geted to children at biological risk and .09 when used
with nontargeted populations. Perhaps program effec-
tiveness increases when the unique strengths of home-
and group-based methods are maximized sequentially or
concurrently. A 17-site study of the Early Head Start
Program found that a combination of center-based and
home-based methods yielded a stronger pattern of ef-
fects on childrens language and social-emotional devel-
opment and on parents behavior and participation in
self-sufficiency activities (i.e., job training) than center-
based or home-based strategies alone (Love et al., 2002).
High expectations of positive results of home visiting
were prominently reduced in 1999 when a widely dis-
tributed David and Lucile Packard Foundation publica-
tion on results of evaluations of six nationally visible
home visiting models recommended that policymakers
and practitioners maintain modest expectations of home
visiting and consider including home visiting as one of a
range of services offered to families with young chil-
dren (Gomby et al., 1999).
Decisions about the use of groups and/or home visits
need to recognize that these are delivery systems, not
programs, and existing studies of groups and home visits
do not control for other important program features (e.g.,
content, pedagogical approach, frequency, child pres-
ence) that program designers need to consider in concert
with program delivery methods.
Intensity
A prevailing assumption in the early childhood interven-
tion field is that more is better, and lackluster findings of
early intervention work with families are often attrib-
uted to insufficient levels of program intensity. Intensity
has four dimensions: the frequency of contact with a fam-
ily; the length or duration of an intervention; the point at
which an intervention begins working with a family, gen-
erally defined by child age (timing); and the extent to
which participants are actively engaged in a program.
Frequency
Experimental research on the relation of frequency of
intervention contact with families to child outcomes is
exceptionally limited (for a review, see D. R. Powell,
2005). Within-group analyses of dose-response relation-
ships in early childhood interventions involving parents
typically find that higher levels of participation are as-
sociated with stronger program effects (e.g., Ramey
et al., 1992). The chief problem of dose-response corre-
lational analyses is the lack of control for population
characteristics. Research by C. Powell and Grantham-
McGregor (1989) in Jamaica apparently is the only pub-
lished investigation that systematically varied levels of
program frequency. However, this two-study contribu-
tion is limited because random assignment to different
frequencies of home visiting (twice a month, once a
month, control condition) was by neighborhood area (not
family) in Study 1. In Study 2, families in a different
sample were randomly assigned to either weekly home
visits or a control condition. Results of separate analyses
for Study 1 and Study 2 indicate that bimonthly visits
had a small influence on childrens developmental func-
tioning and that there were significant developmental
improvements in children in families receiving weekly
home visits compared to children in the control group.
Duration
Research on the length of intervention work with fami-
lies generally has the same population confounds as
within-group analyses of the frequency of contact. An
additional methodological problem in studies of inter-
vention duration is the high rate of participant attrition.
Among the families randomly assigned to the interven-
tion group in one three-site study of a parent-oriented
home visiting program, for example, 22% never began
any visits and 35% received some visits but dropped out
by the year 2 assessment. Attrition was so high in two of
the three study sites that the evaluation of the planned 3-
year program was discontinued at the end of the second
year (Wagner, Spiker, & Linn, 2002). The Bakermans-
Kranenburg et al. (2003) meta-analysis found that inter-
ventions with fewer than five sessions were as effective
(effect size = .42) as interventions with 5 to 16 sessions
(effect size = .38), but interventions with more than 16
564 Families and Early Childhood Interventions
sessions were less effective (effect size = .21) than in-
terventions with a smaller number of sessions. Follow-
up outcome data were not considered in this analysis.
Studies indicating that positive effects of preschool
interventions on IQ fade over time (Barnett, 1995; Con-
sortium for Longitudinal Studies, 1983) have led to in-
terest in follow-up interventions in elementary school.
Effects of a home-school intervention were examined in
a randomized study of the Abecedarian Project, an early
intervention program beginning in infancy (Ramey, Dor-
val, & Baker-Ward, 1983; the infancy/preschool phase of
the Abecedarian Project is described in the section on
Approaches to Families in Early Interventions). Partici-
pants in the infancy/preschool intervention were ran-
domly assigned to a K2 educational support program at
kindergarten entry. This yielded three intervention
groups: preschool and K2 educational support inter-
vention, early intervention only, and K2 educational
support intervention only; a control group was also
added. The K2 educational support intervention con-
sisted of a home-school resource teacher for each child
and the childs family. The teachers prepared an individ-
ualized set of home activities to supplement the schools
basic curriculum in reading and math; they helped fami-
lies secure such community services as decent housing
or adult literacy classes, and they were advocates for the
child and family within the school and community.
The K2 educational support intervention by itself
was not as effective as the preschool condition or the pre-
school plus K2 educational support condition in in-
creasing school performance, although it did increase
parental involvement in their childs education. Follow-
up research when children were 15 years old found
that the preschool-only condition had a positive effect on
grade retention, and both the preschool-only condition
and the preschool plus K2 educational support condi-
tion, but not the K2 educational support-only condition,
had positive effects on reading and math performance
(Ramey, Ramey, Lanzi, & Cotton, 2002). Intervention
effects on reading performance were particularly
strong. The effect sizes for the preschool plus K2 edu-
cational support condition and the preschool-only condi-
tion were .87 and .53, respectively, but was under .15 for
the K2 educational support-only condition and the con-
trol condition (Ramey et al., 2000). Interestingly, be-
tween 36% and 48% of children in the intervention
conditions involving the K2 educational support also
were placed in special education, perhaps because the
home-school resource teachers were special educators
who sought out special education services they believed
would be helpful to a child (Ramey et al., 2002).
A follow-up assessment when study participants were
21 years of age found that the school-age intervention
helped to maintain preschool benefits for reading, but
the effects of the school-age component were weaker
than those of the preschool program (Campbell, Ramey,
Pungello, Sparling, & Johnson, 2002).
A study of the Abecedarian childrens experiences in
elementary school found that children had difficulty
meeting teachers expectations of a middle-class way
with words and that teachers had difficulty responding
to the distinctive nature of the Abecedarian childrens in-
correct answers to questions (Vernon-Feagans, 1996,
p. 210). There is anecdotal evidence that public ridicule
of individual performance and marginalized status con-
tributed to a loss of interest in school (e.g., an older boy
in the Abecedarian community told one of the Abecedar-
ian kindergarteners, See, Melvin, you stop likin to go to
school when you get there; Vernon-Feagans, 1996,
p. 205). Abecedarian children were assigned to low-
ability groups even when child ability data such as IQ
scores (e.g., 130) indicated that a higher placement would
be appropriate. Vernon-Feagans identified the Abecedar-
ian childrens low-income African American status as a
factor in how school personnel viewed and accommodated
nonmainstream children and argues for reforms that
would enable schools to be ready for all children.
Timing
A companion to the more is better assumption in the
early intervention field is the earlier is better per-
spective, driven largely by a view of the earliest years of
life as a critical developmental period. Although this
premise has been disputed in recent years (e.g., Bruer,
1999), there is scant intervention research to guide deci-
sions about the timing of work with families. In the
Bakermans-Kranenburg et al. (2003) meta-analysis of
interventions focused on parental sensitivity and infant
attachment security, interventions starting 6 months
after birth or later were somewhat more effective (effect
size = .44) than interventions starting prenatally or
within the first 6 months of life (effect size = .28).
Level and Type of Engagement
Intervention methods vary in the extent to which they
encourage an active level of participant engagement.
For example, presumably, an intervention that includes
guided discussion with a program participant about his
Elements of Programmatic Support to Families 565
or her observed behavior is more intense than a didactic
presentation of information that entails no tailoring of
content to a participant or involvement of a participant
in discussion of the content.
Research suggests that participants active engage-
ment of program content is predictive of outcomes.
Liaw, Meisels, and Brooks-Gunn (1995) found that par-
ent and child active experience in an intervention (i.e.,
parents interest in the intervention activities during the
home visit and childs mastery of tasks taught at the
child development center) were stronger predictors of
child IQ and quality of home environment scores at age 3
years than program exposure (i.e., number of contacts in
home and child development center) and rate of partici-
pation (i.e., number of activities presented per visit to
parent in the home or per day to the child at the center).
A higher level of active experience on the part of both
child and parent was more strongly associated with
child IQ and home environment quality than a high level
of active experience on the part of the child only or the
parent only. In another intervention study, the rate at
which a curriculum emphasizing adult-child interac-
tions was implemented in home visits and in the child
development center added significantly to the prediction
of childrens IQ scores at 3 years of age (Sparling et al.,
1991). An implication of these findings is that interven-
tions may need to give attention to staff practices (e.g.,
individualization of content) that are likely to support
active engagement of an intervention.
Intervention staff often model desired parenting
practices, although little is known about the effectiveness
of this pedagogical strategy. One qualitative study of a
home visiting program found that parents were not always
aware that the home visitor was modeling appropriate
practices for the parent (Hebbeler & Gerlach-Downie,
2002). Videotaped demonstrations of appropriate prac-
tices, found to be effective in parent training for families
with conduct-problem children (Webster-Stratton, 1990;
Webster-Stratton, Kolpacoff, & Hollinsworth, 1988), are
a promising tool. Videotapes of recommended joint book
reading practices were found to be more effective than
live demonstrations of recommended practices, perhaps
because mothers featured in the videotapes were more
similar to the demographic characteristics of the inter-
vention participants than the staff person conducting the
live demonstration (Arnold, Lonigan, Whitehurst, & Ep-
stein, 1994).
Constructive feedback to individuals based on obser-
vations of their parenting behaviors is another interven-
tion method for which there is limited evidence on effec-
tiveness. Coaching adolescent mothers to use labeling,
scaffolding, and contingent responsivity in literacy-
focused social interactions with their preschool-age chil-
dren is an illustration of this intervention method (Neu-
man & Gallagher, 1994). Some interventions videotape
parent-child interaction for use in a guided discussion
with the parent about parent and child behaviors. A
meta-analysis of interventions focused on parental sensi-
tivity and infant attachment security found that interven-
tions with video feedback were more effective (effect
size = .44) than interventions without this method (ef-
fect size = .31; Bakermans-Kranenburg et al., 2003).
There is some evidence to suggest that the quality of
relationship between intervener and family is predictive
of intervention outcomes. In an intervention involving
nurses as home visitors, a positive relation between
nurses empathy (i.e., trust, understanding, acceptance)
toward their client-mothers and the mothers empathy
toward their child was found for mothers with higher
levels of psychological resources (e.g., emotional well-
being; Korfmacher, Kitzman, & Olds, 1998). In a differ-
ent intervention also involving nurses as home visitors,
therapeutic relationships with mothers that included
demonstrations of ways to handle family relationships
and problems were found to be effective with mothers
with limited social skills (Booth et al., 1989). A review
of early family intervention studies in which the rela-
tionship between the family and the intervener was
viewed as central to intervention outcomes points to pos-
itive intervention effects on maternal functioning and
quality of family and community support (Heinicke &
Ponce, 1999). Many of the interventions included in the
Heinecke and Ponce review were represented in the
Bakermans-Kranenburg et al. (2003) meta-analysis,
which found that randomized interventions were effec-
tive in changing insensitive parenting (effect size = .33)
and, to a lesser extent, infant attachment insecurity (ef-
fect size = .20). With few exceptions (e.g., Arnold et al.,
1994), experimental designs have not been employed in
research on different methods of working with parents
or families.
Staffing
Paraprofessionals have been employed most commonly
as staff responsible for direct work with families in
early childhood interventions. They are generally se-
lected on the basis of their existing ties to local residents
566 Families and Early Childhood Interventions
and their ability to establish a strong interpersonal rela-
tionship with program participants. Paraprofessionals
are expected to provide a high level of personal credibil-
ity that aids in recruiting and retaining hard-to-reach
families, facilitates parent acceptance of the program,
and enhances their effectiveness as a role model for par-
ents (D. R. Powell, 1993). Evaluations of some home-
based (Wagner & Clayton, 1999) and group-based
(Miller, 1988) interventions staffed by paraprofession-
als have produced weak or no positive effects, but the
studies do not make clear whether results were a func-
tion of the maturity of the program model or the abili-
ties of paraprofessionals.
A randomized trial of a home visiting program model
with first-time, low-income mothers in Denver ad-
dressed the question of whether paraprofessionals can
produce positive results in a well-developed program
found to be effective when delivered by professionals
(Olds et al., 2002). Results indicated that, when trained
in the Nurse-Family Partnership model (previously
known as the Nurse Home Visiting Program), parapro-
fessionals produced small effects that rarely achieved
statistical or clinical significance. Nurses produced sig-
nificant effects on a wide range of maternal and child
outcomes. For most outcomes on which either parapro-
fessionals or nurses produced significant effects, the
paraprofessionals typically had effects that were about
half the size of those produced by nurses.
Olds and his colleagues (2002) speculate that, from a
familys perspective, nurses may have higher levels of
legitimacy than paraprofessionals to address concerns
about pregnancy complications, labor and delivery, and
the care of newborns, and thus may have more power to
engage parents and support adaptive behavior change. In
their study, nurses spent more time focused on personal
health and parenting issues, and paraprofessionals de-
voted more time to topics related to environmental
health and safety. Mothers ratings of the helping rela-
tionship did not differ between nurses and paraprofes-
sionals (Korfmacher, OBrien, Hiatt, & Olds, 1999).
Generalization of the Olds et al. findings is limited to
programs serving first-time, low-income mothers with a
program model focused on health issues. The study
leaves open the question of whether there would be dif-
ferent outcomes if paraprofessionals were trained and
supported in a program model uniquely suited to their
backgrounds and abilities (Korfmacher, 2001).
Reports from other home visiting interventions indi-
cate that lay home visitors may have special difficulty
systematically addressing parenting behaviors, finding
it easier to provide material support such as transporta-
tion to a clinic appointment, and may avoid discussing
sensitive issues faced by families (e.g., adolescent preg-
nancy) that are also a part of the paraprofessionals life
history (Musick & Stott, 2000). Also, a cost-benefit
analysis indicates that the amount of training and pro-
fessional supervision of paraprofessionals has a ten-
dency to erase any economic benefit of employing
paraprofessionals (Harkavy & Bond, 1992). This indi-
rectly raises questions about how the quality of supervi-
sion of intervention staff contributes to overall program
quality and effects.
Targeting and Recruiting Families
There is long-standing concern that the families most
likely to benefit from an intervention program may be
the least likely to participate. Problems of and strate-
gies for recruiting hard-to-reach families are persistent
topics in the field. Most reports identify personal con-
tact as superior to flyers and other impersonal methods
of contacting prospective participants. Few intervention
studies have addressed the question of who accepts and
who declines the invitation to participate (McCurdy &
Daro, 2001). A multisite study of Hawaiis Healthy
Start Program, a home visiting intervention that serves
families identified through screening at birth as highly
stressed and/or at risk for child abuse, found that of 897
families offered the possibility of program enrollment,
82% agreed to enroll. Initial willingness to participate
was associated with the method of assessment (i.e., odds
of accepting the program were twice as great for moth-
ers assessed in person than by telephone), infant bio-
logic risk (i.e., low birthweight, premature), overall
score on a measure of family stress, and maternal age
and education (i.e., adolescent mothers who had not fin-
ished high school were 2.5 times more likely to enroll
than adult mothers with a high school education; Dug-
gan et al., 2000).
Agreeing to participate is not to be confused with ac-
tually participating. In a multisite study of the Parents
as Teachers program, for example, one in five families
who initially agreed to enrollment did not subsequently
participate in a home visit (Wagner, Spiker, Linn, Ger-
lach-Downie, & Hernandez, 2003). As noted earlier, at-
trition rates are typically high in interventions serving
at-risk populations. In the model home visiting programs
included in the Packard Foundation publication, 20% to
67% of families enrolled in the programs departed be-
fore the programs were scheduled to end (Gomby et al.,
Elements of Programmatic Support to Families 567
1999), a pattern found in childhood intervention re-
search spanning several decades. Whether there is dif-
ferential attrition is largely unanswered.
Population characteristics have been found to predict
level of program participation. Families in the Hawaii
Healthy Start Program were more likely to have had at
least 12 home visits in the 1st year if the father was vio-
lent, substance abusing, and at extremely high risk; if
the mother did not use violence unilaterally as a means
of dealing with conflict with her partner; and if the
mother was not at extremely high risk (Duggan et al.,
2000; Duggan et al., 1999). In contrast, a study of the
Oregon Healthy Start Program found that mothers were
significantly less likely to actively engage in home visits
when living in a county that displayed poor community
health (i.e., high infant death rate, low birthweight rate)
or when isolated from immediate family and friendship
networks (McGuigan, Katzev, & Pratt, 2003). A study
of psychological characteristics of parents as predictors
of patterns of participation in an Early Head Start Pro-
gram found that mothers who entered the program with
a lower sense of mastery, more difficult attitudes toward
relationships, and more stressful life events were likely
to be classified as superficially engaged in the program
(i.e., high frequency of attendance but low engagement
in terms of perceived levels of interest and attentive-
ness; Robinson et al., 2002).
With regard to program outcomes, results of a num-
ber of investigations suggest that higher-risk mothers
and their children benefit more from early childhood
interventions than lower-risk populations. The risk
indicators examined in various studies include educa-
tion level (Brooks-Gunn, Gross, Kraemer, Spiker, &
Shapiro, 1997), mothers sense of control over her
life (Olds et al., 1986), psychological resources (Olds,
Henderson, et al., 1998), social skills (Booth et al.,
1989), depression (Lyons-Ruth, Connell, Grunebaum,
& Botein, 1990), and mental health risks (Baydar,
Reid, & Webster-Stratton, 2003).
Studies indicating that early interventions with fami-
lies are more effective with higher-risk than with lower-
risk populations raise questions about the merits of
targeting specific populations. Research on this topic is
limited, although programs have pursued various strate-
gies. One option is to use screening data to target
higher-risk samples for a program (e.g., Duggan et al.,
2000) or, within a universal program, to determine the
level of needed services (Daro & Harding, 1999). The
reliability and validity of screening tools is critical to
these types of practices. Some argue speculatively that
when programs are offered to all parents (e.g., Head
Start participants) in a nonstigmatizing manner, higher-
risk parents in fact participate and that the inclusion of
lower-risk parents in heterogeneous groups enhances
program effects on higher-risk parents by providing pos-
itive parenting models (Baydar et al., 2003). Another
option in a universal intervention is to enhance program
supports for higher-risk families. For example, Robinson
et al. (2002) studied parents psychological characteris-
tics of predictors of participation in Early Head Start,
conducted as a collaboration between researchers and
program staff. Findings led staff to strengthen attention
to mental health factors in in-service staff trainings and
to supplement the information gathering at the enroll-
ment point with brief assessments of psychological char-
acteristics of mothers that would provide anticipatory
guidance to home visitors (e.g., use patience and persist-
ence with a woman with many life stressors and a low
sense of mastery who might express few signals of seek-
ing a relationship but in fact may be in need of support).
Supports for Program Implementation
Developers of early interventions have long suggested
that program delivery systems, including the host
agency and community supports for the program, affect
the quality of program implementation (e.g., Weikart,
Bond, & McNeil, 1978). There is now a fledgling body
of research on program implementation that holds prom-
ise of eventually offering guidance on conditions associ-
ated with successful implementation of an intervention.
This information is particularly needed to inform deci-
sions about taking model programs to scale.
Organizational cultures and capacities appear to
shape the ways a host agency carries out an early inter-
vention. A study of the implementation of the Early
Head Start Program found that agency experiences in
providing services to families and to infants and tod-
dlers prior to becoming an Early Head Start Program
were linked to the ease with which Early Head Start
components were fully implemented. For example, staff
in some agencies with experience in providing parent
and family support programs initially resisted the Early
Head Start focus on child development services (Kisker,
Paulsell, Love, & Raikes, 2002). In a three-site study of
the Hawaii Healthy Start Program, Duggan and her col-
leagues (1999, 2000) found significant differences
across agencies in program implementation. The agency
with the lowest family retention rate viewed the entire
family more than the target child as its primary client,
568 Families and Early Childhood Interventions
TABLE 14.1 Approaches to Families in Early Childhood
Interventions: Five Basic Program Designs
Targeted Targeted
Participant Family Function
Program Design Child Parent Child Rearing Other
a
Parent is adjunct to child
program (e.g.,
Abecedarian
Project ) X
Parent is supple-
mentary to child
program (e.g., Perry
Preschool Project ) X X X
Parent is primary par-
ticipant: child-focused
content (e.g., Parents
as Teachers) X X
Parent is primary par-
ticipant: broad-
focused content
(e.g., Nurse-Family
Partnership) X X X
Parent and child
are primary par-
ticipants (e.g.,
Even Start Family
Literacy) X X X X
a
For example, family use of educational, human, and health ser-
vices; parent job skills; parent problem-solving skills.
and home visitors were likely to honor family wishes
about program participation and focus on more recep-
tive families. The two agencies with higher family re-
tention rates reportedly expected that many at-risk
families would be reluctant to participate in home visit-
ing and regarded outreach to an isolated family, for in-
stance, as more important than honoring a familys
inclination to be left alone. Home visitors in these two
agencies persisted in contacting families by telephone
and in person, whereas staff in the agency with low re-
tention rates were advised to send a letter to a reluctant
family offering a final chance to participate.
APPROACHES TO FAMILIES IN
EARLY INTERVENTION: FIVE BASIC
PROGRAM DESIGNS
A premise of this chapter is that considerations of the
merits of family interventions require a finer-grained
examination of intervention components and processes
than is generally provided in the literature. This section
describes five basic program designs, defined by the
parents role (adjunct, supplementary, primary) and by
whether intervention goals and content aimed at adult
family members emphasize child rearing or a broader
set of family functions that include child rearing as well
as domains such as economic self-sufficiency and use of
educational, human, and health services. Key distinc-
tions across the five intervention designs are depicted in
Table 14.1.
Participant role and program goals and content, es-
sentially the who and what dimensions of intervention
design, capture conceptual differences in program as-
sumptions about how best to achieve better outcomes for
children at risk. The approaches represent contrasting
theories of change (Weiss, 1995) regarding pathways of
influence or causal linkages within interventions.
In early interventions where the parent is in an ad-
junct or supplementary role in a program serving chil-
dren directly, the hypothesized mechanism by which an
intervention influences child well-being typically em-
phasizes strengthening the childs knowledge or skills,
such as cognitive ability. This initial boost in ability
is expected to expand into further abilities and corre-
sponding outcomes, sometimes called a Matthew effect
(e.g., Stanovich, 1986). With regard to the family in this
arrangement, the child may be viewed as a mediator of
change in parents behaviors or cognitions (e.g., asking
for storybooks to be read at home as at preschool). The
intervention also may supplement its direct work with
the child by regularly conducting home visits or group
meetings; these are hypothesized to add value to the
child program by providing families with skills and en-
couragement to reinforce the childs gains during and
after child participation in the program.
In interventions where the parent is the sole primary
participant, the prevailing hypothesis is that direct, reg-
ular work with the parent(s) will lead to changes in par-
ent behaviors, including parent-child interaction, which
in turn will improve child outcomes that are sustained
over time due to ongoing family support. The content of
intervention with the parent may focus primarily on the
child-rearing role or a broader set of family functions.
Hypothesized pathways are more complex in inter-
ventions where both parent and child are primary par-
ticipants. The substance of direct work with the
parent(s) may be a hypothesized link to both child and
parent outcomes. Intervention aimed at improving a par-
ents problem-solving skills, for instance, may assume
that improved problem-solving skills will enable parents
to more effectively cope with daily situations and en-
hance overall parental well-being, which may directly
Approaches to Families in Early Intervention: Five Basic Program Designs 569
and perhaps indirectly increase the likelihood of posi-
tive parent-child relationships (Wasik, Bryant, Lyons,
et al., 1997). The timing of intersections among path-
ways of influence is an important consideration because
the focus of direct work with the parent(s) often is a pre-
requisite to positive influence on the child (e.g., teach-
ing a parent to read so the parent can in turn help the
child learn to read).
Although multiple paths of intervention effects are
inherent in interventions that cast both parent and child
as primary participants, note that more than one hypoth-
esized mediator of intervention effects may be embraced
in child-oriented and parent-oriented program designs.
With few exceptions (e.g., Reynolds et al., 2004), most
intervention research has examined one model of casual
linkages, generally focused on child ability.
The discussion follows the order of intervention de-
signs listed in Table 14.1, beginning with interventions
in which the parent is adjunct or supplementary to a
child program and ending with the most complicated of
intervention designs, where both parent and child are
primary participants and a range of family functions is
addressed. Some preliminary hypotheses about program
design are offered at the end of the section.
The interventions described in this section were se-
lected for purposes of illustrating different combinations
of program content and status of parent participants. The
section does not offer an inclusive or exhaustive review
of family interventions and thus does not provide conclu-
sions about intervention effectiveness or design. Most,
but not all, of these interventions were developed in the
field of early childhood intervention. They were targeted
at lower-income families and evaluated with an experi-
mental or strong quasi-experimental research design,
often in more than one research site.
Parent as Adjunct to Child Program
It is rare to find an early childhood intervention that does
not include some programmatic attention to families be-
cause, as noted in this chapters introduction, early
childhood education has a tradition of viewing parents as
partners in supporting a young childs development.
There is considerable variation in how programs act on
the partnership idea, however (D. R. Powell, 2001). Of
interest here are early interventions that approach work
with families as adjunct to the primary mission of work-
ing with the child. These child-focused programs typi-
cally provide occasional opportunities for parents to be
involved in the program and encourage but do not require
parent participation. Program provisions for parent par-
ticipation generally follow recommendations of the Na-
tional Association for the Education of Young Children
(NAEYC) for establishing reciprocal relationships with
families, including frequent, two-way communication
with childrens parents; parent participation in decisions
about their childrens care and education; teacher re-
spect for parents child-rearing preferences and con-
cerns; family involvement in assessing and planning for
individual children; and program assistance in linking
families to a range of community services (Bredekamp
& Copple, 1997).
Program Approaches
The preschool phase of the Abecedarian Project, begun
in 1972 at the Frank Porter Graham Child Development
Center at the University of North Carolina, illustrates
the ways supportive services may be offered to families
in a child-centered intervention. The home-school edu-
cational support phase of the Abecedarian Project be-
ginning in kindergarten was described previously. The
project was designed to determine whether an educa-
tionally focused full-day child care program beginning
in infancy could prevent nonorganically caused mild
mental retardation in children from high-risk families
(Ramey et al., 1983). Families were selected on the
basis of scores on an index of factors indicative of risk
for school failure. The families were mostly low-income
and African American. They were matched on high-risk
scores and maternal IQ, and then pair members were
randomly assigned to either the intervention group or
the control group. Four cohorts of approximately 28
children were selected for the study over a 5-year period
(Ramey et al., 1983), resulting in an enrolled sample of
111 children (57 experimental, 54 control).
The center-based educational program for children
was year-round (50 weeks), 5 days a week for up to 8
hours a day. Children began attending the center as young
as 6 weeks of age; 98% of the children had begun by age 3
months. The program focused on skills that would en-
hance childrens abilities to succeed in the public
schools. Primary emphasis was on cognitive and language
development. The program used the Learningames cur-
riculum for infants and toddlers, comprising more than
300 items in language, motor, social, and cognitive areas
(Sparling & Lewis, 1979). Experiences were tailored to
the developmental status of individual children, and
teachers maintained a developmental chart for each child
to help provide an appropriate match between child func-
tioning and curriculum items. The curriculum beginning
570 Families and Early Childhood Interventions
at age 3 years emphasized active child functioning and
independence with systematic exposure to science, math,
and music (Ramey et al., 1983).
Program provisions for establishing and maintaining
relationships with parents included many of the prac-
tices now recommended by NAEYC. There were regular
parent-teacher conferences focused on the childs growth
and development and scheduled group discussions on a
range of topics related to family and child development.
Vans transported children between home and the center,
and, although there was no formal parent involvement or
home visiting component to the intervention, many of
the center staff had strong ties to the African American
community and families served by the program (Vernon-
Feagans, 1996, p. 80). Project social workers also were
available to provide direct and indirect assistance with
housing, social services, and counseling on personal and
family matters (Ramey & Ramey, 1992; Ramey et al.,
2002). The social work services, also available to fami-
lies in the control group (Ramey et al., 2002), were pro-
vided upon request (Ramey et al., 1983, p. 87). Published
reports that provide the most information regarding
Abecedarian effects on parents do not indicate the extent
to which experimental and control group parents made
use of these services, or how frequently experimental
group parents participated in meetings and communica-
tions with teachers at the center (Ramey et al., 1983;
Ramey & Ramey, 1992; Ramey et al., 2002).
Effects
Outcome data indicate that the Abecedarian interven-
tion prevented intellectual decline during the preschool
period (Ramey & Campbell, 1984). A subgroup analysis
of 13 children of retarded mothers found that interven-
tion effects were greatest for children of mothers with
IQ below 70 (Martin, Ramey, & Ramey, 1990).
No differences between experimental and control
group mothers were found in child-rearing attitudes when
infants were 6 and 18 months of age, and in mothers
locus of control when infants were 3 months old (Ramey
et al., 1983). When children were 20 months of age,
analyses of videotaped mother-child interaction in a lab-
oratory indicated that experimental group infants were
communicating with their mothers at a significantly
higher level than control group infants. Experimental
group infants were equivalent to infants in a middle-class
comparison sample (nonrandomized) in requesting be-
haviors (OConnell & Farran, 1980 cited in Ramey et al.,
1983). At 36 months of age, infants in the experimental
group were four times as likely to attempt to modify their
mothers behavior (e.g., ask mother to watch their activ-
ity, read them a book) than control group infants, and mu-
tual play activities involving mother and child lasted
twice as long for mother-child dyads in the experimental
group (Farran & Haskins, 1977 cited in Ramey et al.,
1983). It appears, then, that children in the Abecedarian
child development center presented different demand
characteristics when interacting with their mother and
thus may have affected the quality of mother-child inter-
action by their ability to bring out the best in caregivers
(Ramey et al., 2002). There were no differences between
experimental and control group families in the quality of
the home environment at 54 months (Ramey et al., 1983).
A pattern of positive intervention effects on reading
and math performance was found when children were
assessed at 8 and 12 years of age (F. A. Campbell &
Ramey, 1994, 1995). As reported earlier in this chapter,
follow-up research when children were 15 years of age
found that the preschool intervention had a positive ef-
fect on grade retention (Ramey et al., 2002). Also at the
15-year follow-up, 12% of children in the preschool-
only group compared to 48% in the control group had
been placed in special education during the 10 years
they attended school (Ramey et al., 2000).
At 21 years of age, participants in the preschool inter-
vention earned significantly higher scores on intellectual
and academic measures, attained significantly more
years of total education, were more likely to attend a 4-
year college, and showed a reduction in teenage preg-
nancy compared to participants in the control group
(Campbell et al., 2002). Preschool cognitive gains ac-
counted for a substantial portion of intervention differ-
ences in the development of reading and math skills from
age 3 to 21 years (Campbell, Pungello, Miller-Johnson,
Burchinal, & Ramey, 2001).
Follow-up results suggest that the early childhood pro-
gram enabled mothers to continue their education. Exper-
imental group mothers had significantly higher education
levels (11.9 years) than control group mothers (10.3
years) when their children were 54 months of age despite
the fact that the levels of education were comparable
(10.30 for experimental and 10.12 for control) at the time
of their childs birth (Ramey, 1980). Also, more control
group mothers were unemployed or engaged in unskilled
employment than experimental mothers, and experimen-
tal group mothers held more semiskilled or skilled jobs
than control group mothers (Ramey et al., 1983). Adoles-
cent parents seemed to benefit the most. At the time of
Approaches to Families in Early Intervention: Five Basic Program Designs 571
kindergarten entry, 46% of teenage mothers in the inter-
vention group had graduated from high school and ob-
tained postsecondary training compared to 13% in the
control group (F. A. Campbell, Breitmayer, & Ramey,
1986). This pattern continued at follow-up. When chil-
dren were 15 years of age, 80% of teenage mothers whose
children had participated in the preschool intervention
compared to 28% of comparable control mothers had at-
tained a postsecondary education. Rates of employment
were highest (92%) for teenage mothers in the experi-
mental group and lowest (66%) for teenage mothers in
the control group (Ramey et al., 2000).
Parent as Supplementary to Child Program
Early interventions that view parents as supplementary
participants require or expect regular involvement in
program provisions for parents. This level of frequency
is in contrast to occasional opportunities for parent par-
ticipation characterized by the adjunct role. Regular,
supplemental work with parents is expected to add value
to intervention effects achieved through direct work
with the child. Child-rearing issues typically are the
focus of work with parents, although, in keeping with
NAEYC standards (Bredekamp & Copple, 1997), it is
common for programs to also facilitate access to health,
education, and social services when needed, generally
through referrals. In this type of program design, a dis-
tinction across interventions is whether the content of
work with parents primarily addresses a single child-
rearing domain (e.g., cognitive development) or multiple
child-rearing domains. Each of these two content ap-
proaches is discussed next, beginning with interventions
that address multiple child-rearing domains in work
with parents.
Multiple Child-Rearing Domains
The Perry Preschool Project, launched in 1962 in Ypsi-
lanti, Michigan, is arguably the best-known investigation
of the effects of early childhood education on low-income
children. The experimental study has gained visibility
in policy and early childhood practitioner circles for its
follow-up findings regarding real-world variables (e.g.,
income, criminal behavior, home ownership) at age 27
years (Schweinhart, Barnes, Weikart, Barnett, & Epstein,
1993) and 40 years (Schweinhart et al., 2005) and for its
cost-benefit analyses (e.g., Barnett, 1996).
Less well-known is the targeted focus on parents in
the Perry Preschool Project: Mothers received weekly
home visits lasting about 90 minutes from their childs
preschool teacher aimed at involving mothers in provid-
ing educational support at home and extending school
activities on an individual basis. For each home visit,
teachers offered materials (e.g., puppets, clay, art mate-
rials) that were conducive to involving the mother and
were tailored to areas where a child might need extra
work. Informal discussions with the mother about child-
rearing practices and the childs preparation for school
were viewed as an important part of each home visit.
There also were periodic group meetings with content
planned in collaboration with parents (mostly mothers)
and focused on child-rearing practices (Weikart,
Rogers, Adcock, & McClelland, 1971).
The Chicago Child-Parent Center Program represents
a second illustration of an early childhood program de-
sign in which parents are important supplementary par-
ticipants. This large-scale program provides educational
services to economically disadvantaged children and
their parents from preschool to early elementary school,
ages 3 through 9 years. It was established in 1967
through funding from the federal Elementary and Sec-
ondary Education Act of 1965 (Title 1). The half-day
preschool and half-day or full-day kindergarten class-
rooms emphasize language arts and math through rela-
tively structured experiences offered in a range of
settings (e.g., large group, small group, individualized
activities).
The parent involvement program in the Chicago
Child-Parent Centers is more intensive than what was
offered in the Perry Preschool Project. Parent involve-
ment in the Chicago program is expected to promote
childrens school readiness and school adjustment via
enhanced parent-child interactions, parent and child
participation in school, and social support among par-
ents. During preschool and kindergarten years, parents
were required to participate at least one-half day per
week, although average participation rates were lower.
Parent participation was expected but not required in the
primary grades. A parent room, located adjacent to the
childrens preschool and kindergarten classrooms and
staffed by a full-time parent resource teacher, was a core
part of the interventions work with parents. Parent
room activities include participation in parent reading
groups, craft projects, and workshops on child develop-
ment. Other avenues for parent involvement included
classroom volunteering, home visits, participation in
high school coursework, and parent-teacher conferences
and other school meetings.
572 Families and Early Childhood Interventions
A full-time staff person responsible for outreach ser-
vices to families, including referral to health and social
service agencies, is located at each center. The outreach
worker meets with each family at the beginning of the
year and additional visits occur as needed (Reynolds,
2000). Compared to nonparticipants, participants in the
Perry Preschool Project experimental group at age 27
years had significantly higher monthly earnings, rates of
home ownership, and level of schooling completed, and
significantly lower percentages receiving social services
at some time in the previous 10 years and fewer arrests
(Schweinhart et al., 1993). At age 40 years, adults who
had participated in the preschool program had higher
earnings, were more likely to hold a job, had committed
fewer crimes, and were more likely to have graduated
from high school than adults who did not participate in a
preschool program (Schweinhart et al., in press).
Long-term effects of the Chicago Child-Parent Cen-
ters were examined with a quasi-experimental design
involving 1,539 children who participated in the inter-
vention in 1983 to 1989: an intervention group that re-
ceived the services from ages 3 through 9 years, as
described earlier, and a comparison group of children
who participated in alternative full-day kindergartens.
Results indicated that children who participated in the
preschool intervention for 1 or 2 years had a higher rate
of high school completion, more years of completed ed-
ucation, and lower rates of school dropout by age 20
years, and lower rates of juvenile arrest, violent arrests,
grade retention, and special education placement by age
18 years. The largest gains in educational attainment oc-
curred for boys in the intervention (Reynolds, Temple,
Robertson, & Mann, 2001).
Did these interventions have an influence on par-
ents? To what extent did parents mediate intervention
effects on children? Follow-up data in the Perry Pre-
school Project when children were in fourth grade sug-
gested that the experimental mothers had more
developmentally supportive child-rearing attitudes but
not behaviors than control mothers (Weikart et al.,
1978). At age 15 years, more experimental group moth-
ers than control group mothers were satisfied with their
childs school performance, and experimental group
mothers had higher educational aspirations for their
child than control group mothers (Schweinhart &
Weikart, 1980). Data were not collected from parents in
follow-up studies when study participants were 19, 27,
and 40 years of age. In the Chicago Child-Parent Pro-
gram, parent data were collected when children were 10
to 12 years of age. Parents of program children were
more likely than parents of children in the comparison
group to have higher educational expectations for their
children, higher rates of satisfaction with their chil-
drens education, and higher levels of involvement in
school activities (Reynolds, 2000).
Perry Preschool Study researchers have consistently
emphasized childrens intellectual performance in
causal models of how preschool participation influences
subsequent outcomes, including adult functioning (Bar-
nett et al., 1998; Schweinhart et al., 1993, in press). In
models designed to explain preschool program effects at
27 years (Barnett et al., 1998; Schweinhart et al., 1993)
and 40 years (Schweinhart et al., in press), preschool ex-
perience directly improves early childhood intellectual
performance, the gateway to all subsequent intervention
effects. Family variables are not included in the models
except in relation to entry-level socioeconomic status
predictors of intellectual performance. Analyses con-
ducted when children were in fourth grade indicated
that the home environment was a more powerful predic-
tor of achievement and school success in the control
group than in the experimental group, prompting the in-
vestigators to suggest that the intervention reduced the
effects of the home environment on the acquisition of
academic skills (Weikart et al., 1978).
The limited attention to intervention effects on par-
ents in the Perry Preschool analyses leaves open impor-
tant questions about the contribution of parents to
childrens outcomes (Zigler & Seitz, 1993). In a second-
ary analysis of the Perry Preschool data that combined
experimental and control groups, there was a mixed pat-
tern of links between family variables and childrens
subsequent achievement. For example, maternal involve-
ment in kindergarten was predictive of childrens com-
petence and adjustment in kindergarten. However, for
male youth during adolescence, there was a negative re-
lationship between how often parents contacted teach-
ers on their own and level of education attained by the
child, perhaps because contact with the school was due
to concern about student performance. Mothers who
were identified by their child as role models at the 27-
year follow-up were significantly more involved in their
childs school at kindergarten than mothers who were
not selected by their children as role models. Childrens
cognitive competence and academic motivation in
kindergarten were more strongly predictive of subse-
quent achievement and educational attainment (Luster &
McAdoo, 1996).
Approaches to Families in Early Intervention: Five Basic Program Designs 573
Reynolds et al. (2004) analyzed different mechanisms
or pathways through which the Chicago Child-Parent
Centers had long-term effects on educational attainment
by age 20 and juvenile delinquency by age 18. They
found that the primary mediators of effects for both out-
comes were literacy skills in kindergarten and avoidance
of grade retention (cognitive advantage), parent involve-
ment in elementary school (when children were between
8 and 12 years of age) and avoidance of child maltreat-
ment (family support), and attendance in high-quality
elementary schools and lower number of school moves
(school support). The model accounted for 58% of pre-
school links with school completion and 79% of pre-
school links with juvenile arrest.
Single Child-Rearing Domain
Research on two interventions related to different as-
pects of child functioning illustrates the benefits of fo-
cused attention to a specific domain of child development
through educational work with parents and enhanced
teacher practices in existing preschool classrooms. The
studies also offer indirect evidence regarding the merits
of intervention with parents alone versus intervention
with parents in combination with curriculum enhance-
ments in a center-based early childhood program.
The first study deals with preventive interventions
focused on child conduct problems. In a study involving
Head Start Programs, Webster-Stratton (1998) found
that a short-term training program offered to all parents
(regardless of whether their child had behavior prob-
lems) contributed to significant improvements in parent-
ing interactions with children, reductions in childrens
negative behaviors, and increases in prosocial behaviors
for children of parents who participated in the training
program compared to children of comparison group par-
ents. There were no significant intervention effects on
childrens negative behaviors at school, however.
Webster-Stratton and her colleagues (Webster-
Stratton, Reid, & Hammond, 2001) hypothesized that an
intervention involving parent training combined with in-
depth parallel training for teachers in classroom man-
agement skills would result in reduced conduct problems
and greater social competence at both school and home.
In a study involving 14 Head Start centers (36 classes)
that were randomly assigned to either an experimental
condition or a control condition, a 12-week parent train-
ing program offered to all parents and delivered through
weekly parent group meetings was combined with 6
monthly 1-day workshops (i.e., 36 hours of training) for
teachers in classrooms in the intervention condition.
Parent training topics included playing with your child,
using praise and encouragement to bring out the best in
your child, effective limit setting, and handling misbe-
havior. Parents viewed videotapes of modeled parenting
skills and engaged in a focused group discussion after
viewing each 2-minute vignette. The teacher training
workshop topics included strengthening student social
skills, using incentives to motivate students with behav-
ior problems, and handling misbehavior using effective
limit setting, ignoring, time-out, and other strategies.
Teachers watched and discussed videotapes of other
classroom teachers.
Following the 12-session weekly parent program, ex-
perimental mothers had significantly lower negative
parenting and significantly higher positive parenting
scores than control mothers. Experimental children
showed significantly fewer conduct problems at school
than control children, and children of mothers who at-
tended six or more intervention sessions showed signifi-
cantly fewer conduct problems at home than children in
the control group. At the end of training, experimental
teachers exhibited significantly better classroom man-
agement skills than control teachers. Experimental ef-
fects were maintained 1 year later for parents who
attended more than six parent group trainings (Webster-
Stratton et al., 2001).
A comparison of the Webster-Stratton (1998) and
Webster-Stratton et al. (2001) findings indirectly sug-
gests that if behavior is to be changed in a particular set-
ting (i.e., home, school), intervention focused on the
targeted behavior is needed within the setting of inter-
est. Intervention with parents contributed to changes in
childrens behaviors at home but not in the Head Start
classrooms, whereas intervention both with teachers
and parents led to changes in childrens behaviors both
at home and at school.
Childrens early reading abilities are the focus of
the second example of an intervention involving con-
current training of parents and teachers. The interven-
tion is the dialogic reading program developed by
Whitehurst and colleagues (Whitehurst, Arnold, et al.,
1994; Whitehurst, Epstein, et al., 1994; Whitehurst
et al., 1988). This program promotes the childs active
participation in adult-child shared book reading by
shifting the adults typical role of storyteller to the role
of active listener, asking questions, adding informa-
tion, and prompting the child to increase the sophisti-
cation of descriptions of material in the picture book.
574 Families and Early Childhood Interventions
In a study of the effects of dialogic reading with low-
income children, Whitehurst, Arnold, et al. (1994) ran-
domly assigned children attending publicly subsidized
child care centers to one of two intervention conditions
or a control condition. In one intervention condition,
children were read to by their parents at home and by
their child care teachers in small groups of no more than
five children. In the second intervention condition, chil-
dren were read to by their child care teachers in the
small group format. A videotape training method
(Arnold et al., 1994) was used to train teachers and par-
ents in dialogic reading. Children in both intervention
groups experienced significant increases in oral lan-
guage skills compared to children in the control group at
the end of the 6-week intervention, and these gains were
maintained on a 6-month follow-up assessment. Chil-
dren who were read to by both teachers and parents had
larger gains than children who were read to by teachers
only (Whitehurst, Arnold, et al., 1994).
In a subsequent investigation, Lonigan and White-
hurst (1998) extended the design of the Whitehurst,
Arnold, et al. (1994) study by adding a third intervention
group where only parents read to their children using
the dialogic reading approach. The intent of the Lonigan
and Whitehurst experiment was to determine the rela-
tive effectiveness of parents versus teachers in imple-
menting dialogic reading. Four child care centers
serving mainly families eligible for subsidized child
care participated in the study; children were randomly
assigned to one of the four study conditions, and teach-
ers and parents in the respective intervention conditions
participated in videotape training in dialogic reading
methods as carried out in the Whitehurst, Arnold, et al.
study. Results of the Lonigan and Whitehurst investiga-
tion indicated that at the end of the 6-week intervention,
each of the intervention conditions had a significant ef-
fect on oral language skills; effects were largest in the
two intervention conditions involving home reading. The
investigators speculate that a one-on-one reading con-
text provided by parents may be more conducive to a
childs active participation in shared reading than the
group format most commonly used in classrooms.
Parent as Primary Participant
As noted in the introduction to this chapter, the idea
that families are central to achieving meaningful
change in childrens outcomes has led many designers
of early intervention programs to view work with par-
ents in adjunct or supplementary roles in child-focused
interventions to be an insufficient influence on fami-
lies. A better program design, some argue, is to support
families through intensive intervention with the parent.
Two types of parent-focused interventions are consid-
ered next, one with a content emphasis on family child-
rearing environments and one with a content emphasis
on a broader range of family functions.
Child-Focused Content
Early childhood intervention via parenting education
and support has been an active part of the early inter-
vention field since the 1960s. Early efforts in this area
include the Florida Parent Education Infant and Toddler
Program (Gordon, Guinagh, & Jester, 1977), the
Mother-Child Home Program (Levenstein, 1977, 1988),
and the Early Training Project (Klaus & Gray, 1968).
Later interventions targeted adolescent mothers (e.g.,
Field, Widmayer, Greenberg, & Stoller, 1982; Osofsky,
Culp, & Ware, 1988) and parents of children with dis-
abilities (e.g., Brassell & Dunst, 1978). There also is a
rich tradition of family interventions that seek to change
antisocial behavior in children through behavioral parent
training (e.g., Serketich & Dumas, 1996).
Program Approaches. The Parents as Teachers
(PAT) Program is one prominent model representative of
this tradition. It was founded in 1981 as the New Parents
as Teachers Program by Mildred Winter (Vartuli &
Winter, 1989), with program content originally based on
Burton Whites (White & Watts, 1973) research on
early childhood development. PAT is a core element of
Edward Ziglers (Zigler, Finn-Stevenson, & Hall, 2002)
School of the 21st Century model. A major program
component is home visits conducted with the parent
(usually the mother) to share age-appropriate activities
and child development information aimed at strengthen-
ing the quality of mother-child interaction and the home
learning environment. There also are periodic group
meetings of parents, developmental screenings, and re-
ferrals to community services. School readiness is a
major program goal.
Effects. The PAT Program has been subjected to a
series of randomized trials with low-income popula-
tions. A three-site study conducted in geographically
dispersed urban areas with a total sample of 665 chil-
dren and their families found few statistically signifi-
cant effects on parenting and child development at the
Approaches to Families in Early Intervention: Five Basic Program Designs 575
end of 2 years in the program (childs 2nd birthday).
There were only three statistically significant differ-
ences among 28 measures of parent outcomes: a higher
frequency of telling stories, saying nursery rhymes, and
singing with the child among very low-income interven-
tion group parents compared to very low-income control
group parents, and a higher frequency of parents happi-
ness in caring for their child and acceptance of their
childs behavior among the more moderate-income in-
tervention families compared to their control group
counterparts. There were no statistically significant ef-
fects on child outcomes (Wagner et al., 2002).
In separate randomized trials of the PAT Program
with primarily Latino parents in northern California and
with adolescent parents in southern California, there
were small and inconsistent positive effects on parent
knowledge, attitudes, and behavior, and no gains in child
development or health when experimental and control
groups were compared overall. Subgroup analyses in the
northern California site indicated that children in pri-
marily Spanish-speaking Latino families benefited
more than either non-Latino or English-speaking Latino
families; there were significant child gains in cognitive,
communication, social, and self-help development but
not a corresponding consistent pattern of positive inter-
vention effects on mothers. Also, subgroup analyses in
the southern California site indicated that families re-
ceiving both PAT services and comprehensive case man-
agement services designed to help mothers improve their
life course benefited most (Wagner & Clayton, 1999).
Attrition was high and the frequency of home visits was
well below the intended monthly contact in each of the
PAT studies.
A qualitative study focused on why the PAT Program
was not more effective in the two California randomized
trials found that home visitors emphasized their social
support role and generally did not discuss parenting be-
haviors that appeared to be in need of change or im-
provement, even though program goals emphasized both
confidence building and focus on parenting behaviors.
Mothers viewed the time the home visitor spent interact-
ing with their child as a direct intervention (a vitamin)
that would enhance the childs development, whereas
the home visitors saw the same interaction as modeling
for the parent (Hebbeler & Gerlach-Downie, 2002).
Implementation issues aside, it is useful to ponder
whether a different method (groups) and content (social
development) are critical variables here. Recall from the
previous section that Webster-Strattons (1998) group-
based intervention with parents regarding childrens
Conduct Disorder yielded positive effects on parents
and childrens behaviors at home.
Broad-Focused Content
Since the 1970s, reviewers of the early intervention
research literature have argued that parenting educa-
tion programs aimed at low-income families are likely
to yield few or no positive outcomes because they are
not equipped to address parents primary concerns,
namely, major sources of stress faced by parents
living in poverty (e.g., Chilman, 1973; St. Pierre &
Layzer, 1998). Results of the PAT Program in south-
ern California suggest that there are benefits in pro-
viding parents with concrete assistance with personal
and family life issues combined with support for im-
provements in parenting knowledge and skills. In an
intervention condition that combined the PAT Pro-
gram with case management for adolescent mothers,
experimental group participants were more accepting
of their childrens behavior, children experienced sig-
nificant gains of 1 or 2 months in cognitive develop-
ment, and there were significantly fewer opened cases
of child abuse or neglect compared to control group
participants. There were no intervention effects on a
range of other outcome variables, however (Wagner &
Clayton, 1999). Described next are approaches and re-
sults of other parent-oriented interventions that have
attempted to support parent and family functioning as
an avenue to improved child outcomes.
Program Approaches. A case management ap-
proach to family support via home visiting was exam-
ined in the Comprehensive Child Development Project
(CCDP), a 21-site randomized experiment that began in
1989. The projects name is misleading, as the initiative
did not provide services directly to children other than
developmental screening (Goodson, Layzer, St. Pierre,
Bernstein, & Lopez, 2000; see also Gilliam, Ripple,
Zigler, & Leiter, 2000). The project was mandated by
federal law to serve infants and young children from
low-income families who, because of environmental,
health, or other factors, need intensive and comprehen-
sive supportive services to enhance their development
(Goodson et al., 2000, p. 10).
The CCDP was an ambitious intervention designed
to work with two or more generations of a family and
to involve all family members on a broad range of is-
sues (St. Pierre, Layzer, Goodson, & Bernstein, 1997).
576 Families and Early Childhood Interventions
The model of hypothesized CCDP effects speaks to the
complexity of the program. The model included five
domains of short-term parent /family effects (physical
health, mental health, parenting, steps to economic
self-sufficiency, employment and income), two do-
mains of short-term child effects (physical health, de-
velopmental), plus long-term child effects in four areas
(improved school success, reduced special education
placement, reduced retention in grade, reduced teen
pregnancy) and long-term parent effects on economic
self-sufficiency (St. Pierre et al., 1997). Improved par-
enting knowledge and skills and economic self-
sufficiency were the two main hypothesized indirect
pathways to improved child well-being, and participa-
tion in high-quality programs of early education and
care was the primary hypothesized direct pathway to
better child outcomes (Goodson et al., 2000).
The CCDP provided case management, parenting ed-
ucation for the mother or primary caregiver, arrange-
ments for developmentally appropriate early childhood
education experiences for all children, and developmen-
tal screening. Case management was central to the
CCDP because without case managers, the CCDP fami-
lies would have been no different from other low-income
families in their community who had access to existing
services (Goodson et al., 2000; St. Pierre et al., 1997).
Family case managers developed service plans with
families based on an assessment of needs (e.g., housing,
domestic violence) and identification of goals and nec-
essary actions, and helped families carry out their plans,
including referral to health and mental health services
and specialists. Referrals also were made to education-
related services such as adult literacy education and job
training and placement. Emphasis in the case manage-
ment work was on coordination of services for a family;
case managers referred families to services (i.e., pro-
vided mother with contact information for a program)
and also engaged in brokering of services (i.e., worked
with a non-CCDP program on behalf of a CCDP family
and followed up to ensure that the family received
needed services; St. Pierre et al., 1997). Case managers,
usually paraprofessionals, were families main point of
contact with the program, although other CCDP special-
ists (e.g., health and mental health coordinators, staff
responsible for male involvement in the program) inter-
acted with families on an as-needed basis.
When children were between birth and 3 years of age,
most early childhood education was delivered through
home visits by early childhood specialists. The focus
was on educating parents about child development and
parenting skills. Parenting education also was provided
through group sessions and printed materials. For older
children, program staff linked families to Head Start or
high-quality child care. Families were expected to par-
ticipate for 5 years, beginning during the mothers preg-
nancy or during the target childs 1st year.
The Nurse-Family Partnership (NFP; previously
known as the Nurse Home Visiting Program) also illus-
trates an intervention approach focused on parents and
their contexts. The program seeks to improve (a) the
outcomes of pregnancy, ( b) quality of caregiving (and
related child health and developmental outcomes), and
(c) maternal life course development. Nurse home
visitors provide information on child development, par-
ticularly how to promote sensitive and responsive care-
giving (e.g., understanding and responding to infant
nonverbal cues, crying behavior, colic). They also at-
tempt to enhance parents informal social support net-
works and use of community services, including health
and human services that can reduce situational stressors
encountered by low-income families. First-time mothers
are recruited for the intervention during pregnancy and
encouraged to remain in the program through their
childs 2nd birthday. Pregnancy and the early years of a
childs life are targeted because it is a time when par-
ents are learning the parental role (Olds, Kitzman, Cole,
& Robinson, 1997).
The program views the relationship between the
nurse home visitor and the mother and other family
members beginning during pregnancy as a therapeutic
alliance that provides a model to mothers of care and
support. An assumption is that this alliance challenges
negative views a mother may have of herself as unde-
serving of attention and care. The intervention also
seeks to promote self-efficacy by helping participants
set small achievable goals for behavioral change that, if
accomplished, would strengthen confidence in dealing
with similar situations in the future. The program gives
particular attention to womens progressive mastery of
their roles as parents and as adults responsible for their
own health and economic self-sufficiency (Olds, Kitz-
man, et al., 1997, p. 12).
Effects. Evaluation of the 21 sites of the CCDP, in-
volving a sample of 4,410 families for 5 years, found no
statistically significant intervention effects on child
outcomes (cognitive, social-emotional, health) or parent
outcomes (parenting, family economic self-sufficiency,
maternal life course) compared to a control group. Ac-
cordingly, there was no empirical support for the two hy-
Approaches to Families in Early Intervention: Five Basic Program Designs 577
pothesized indirect pathways (parenting behavior and
family economic status) to improved child well-being.
Results do not support the hypothesized direct pathway
of participation in high-quality programs of early edu-
cation and care to improved child outcomes. Signifi-
cantly more CCDP children than control children were
enrolled in center-based programs, and program chil-
dren spent more hours than control children in center-
based programs, but overall, the amount of exposure was
modest (an average of 2 to 3 hours a day) and data are
not available on whether the center-based programs en-
rolling CCDP children were of higher quality than pro-
grams enrolling control group children (Goodson et al.,
2000; St. Pierre et al., 1997).
The NFP has been tested in three successive random-
ized trials. The original trial with predominantly Euro-
pean Americans conducted between 1978 and 1980 in
semirural Elmira, New York, found that the intervention
reduced rates of child abuse and neglect, maternal wel-
fare dependence, closely spaced successive pregnancies,
and maternal criminal behavior related to use of alcohol
and other drugs (Olds, Eckenrode, et al., 1997; Olds
et al., 1986). Positive intervention effects were concen-
trated on poor, unmarried adolescents, a subgroup at
greatest risk of inappropriate caregiving. Intervention
mothers in this high-risk subgroup were significantly
less likely to punish and restrict their children, and
provided their children with a larger number of appro-
priate play materials as measured by the Home Observa-
tion for Measurement of the Environment (HOME;
Caldwell & Bradley, 1984) scale than their counterparts
in the comparison group when children were 22 months
of age. There were trends when children were 12 and 24
months of age for intervention children to have higher
developmental quotients than babies of counterparts in
the comparison condition (Olds et al., 1986). A 15-year
follow-up of adolescents born to low-income women
who received the nurse home visits during pregnancy
and postnatally and who were unmarried found fewer in-
stances of running away, fewer arrests, fewer convic-
tions and violations of probation, fewer lifetime sex
partners, and fewer days having consumed alcohol in the
prior 6 months than youth in the comparison group. Par-
ents who participated in the intervention reported that
their children had fewer behavioral problems related to
use of alcohol and other drugs, but there were no pro-
gram effects on other behavioral problems (Olds, Hen-
derson, et al., 1998).
In a subsequent randomized trial conducted with
primarily African American women in Memphis, Ten-
nessee, in the early 1990s, nurse-visited mothers held
fewer child-rearing beliefs associated with child abuse
and neglect, including belief in physical punishment and
unrealistic expectations for infants, and had higher qual-
ity home environments as measured by the HOME
inventory than comparison group mothers when their
children were 24 months of age. There was no interven-
tion effect on maternal teaching behavior, childs use of
well-child care, immunization status, the childs mental
development, or parent report of child behavior prob-
lems. Children born to mothers with limited psychologi-
cal resources were observed to be more responsive to
their mother and to communicate their needs more
clearly than children of low-resource mothers in the
comparison group. At 24 months, nurse-visited mothers
reported having fewer second pregnancies and higher
levels of perceived mastery than mothers in the compar-
ison group (Kitzman, Cole, Yoos, & Olds, 1997). A 3-
year follow-up of the Memphis trial found that
intervention mothers had fewer subsequent pregnancies
and fewer months of welfare and food stamp use, but the
results were smaller in magnitude than those achieved in
the Elmira trial (Kitzman et al., 2000).
In the most recent trial, conducted in Denver, Col-
orado, in the mid-1990s, nurse-visited infants at 6
months of age were less likely to exhibit emotional vul-
nerability in response to fear stimuli. At 21 months,
nurse-visited children born to women with low psycho-
logical resources were less likely to exhibit language de-
lays, and at 24 months they exhibited superior mental
development compared to counterpart children in the
comparison group. There were no intervention effects
on womens educational achievement or use of welfare
or childrens behavior problems (Olds et al., 2002).
Child and Parent as Primary Participants
One of the typical responses to findings of modest or no
effects of parent-focused interventions is the argument
that early childhood intervention is more effective when
it entails direct, intensive work with both parent and
child than with the parent alone.
Research-based interventions that work directly with
the child and the parent and provide supports for a range
of family functions span nearly 4 decades. Initial ef-
forts, launched in the late 1960s and in 1970, include
Head Starts Parent-Child Center Program (Lazar et al.,
1970), the Parent-Child Development Center (Andrews
et al., 1982), the Yale Child Welfare Project (Provence,
Naylor, & Patterson, 1977), and the Syracuse Family
578 Families and Early Childhood Interventions
Development Research Program (Lally, Mangione, &
Honig, 1988). These early interventions, like their con-
temporary counterparts, differ on theoretical and pro-
grammatic dimensions (e.g., whether direct services to
parent and to child are offered concurrently or sequen-
tially), but they share a clear goal of improving a range
of parent outcomes, including maternal depression,
sense of mastery, problem-solving and life management
skills, and abilities related to economic self-sufficiency.
Research on the initial wave of interventions in this
area yielded positive, albeit modest, program effects on
parents and children and provided a basis for further de-
velopment and testing of program models. For example,
a three-site, experimental study of the Parent-Child De-
velopment Center (PCDC) Program found that children
achieved superior Stanford-Binet scores at the time of
program graduation (36 months of age), and program
mothers scored significantly higher than control group
mothers on dimensions of positive maternal behavior.
The PCDC children maintained their IQ gains 1 year
after leaving the program (Andrews et al., 1982) but not
beyond (Bridgeman, Blumenthal, & Andrews, 1981). A
10-year follow-up study of the Yale Child Welfare Proj-
ect, which provided families with pediatric care, social
work, child care, and psychological services in an indi-
vidualized manner by a four-person team of profession-
als, found positive program effects on intervention
childrens school attendance and boys use of special
school services, but no program effects on childrens IQ
scores. Program mothers were more likely to be self-
supporting, have more formal education, and have
smaller family size than mothers who had not been in
the program (Seitz, Rosenbaum, & Apfel, 1985). A later
follow-up study found positive program effects on inter-
vention childrens siblings school attendance and per-
formance (Seitz & Apfel, 1994). Reduced rates of
juvenile delinquency, better school performance, and
more positive child and parental attitudes toward self
and the environment (i.e., problem-solving orientation)
were found for intervention girls but not boys in junior
high school in a 10-year follow-up study of the Syracuse
Family Development Research Program (Lally et al.,
1988). The positive effects of these interventions pro-
vided a basis for further development and testing of
other program models.
Interventions that seek to improve parent and family
functioning differ in the amount of emphasis on the par-
ents employment skills. The early set of interventions
in this area tended to provide referrals to programs pro-
viding adult literacy and job training on an as-needed or
as-requested basis. Partly in response to welfare reform,
more recent child and family interventions include
training directly related to economic self-sufficiency as
an integral part of service provisions. Illustrations of
these contrasting approaches and their effects are de-
scribed next.
Program Approaches
The Infant Health and Development Program (IHDP)
was an eight-site randomized study of a 3-year interven-
tion with low birthweight, premature infants that in-
cluded three components: home visits through age 3
years, weekly in the 1st year and biweekly in the 2nd
and 3rd years; child participation in child development
centers beginning at age 1 year through age 3 years for a
full day, 50 weeks a year; and parent group meetings
every other month during the 2nd and 3rd years. IHDP
was launched in 1985.
The home visits promoted knowledge and skill devel-
opment in child health and development, using the Part-
ners for Learning curriculum for age-appropriate games
and activities that foster cognitive, language, and social
development (Sparling & Lewis, 1995), and in problem-
solving skills, using the Parent Problem Solving Program
designed to help parents learn effective ways of coping
with stress related to parenting and other life events
(Wasik, Bryant, Lyons, et al., 1997). Activities from
the Partners for Learning curriculum also were used in
the child development center (Ramey, Sparling, Bryant,
& Wasik, 1997). Home visitor selection and training in-
cluded major attention to basic clinical skills (i.e., ob-
serving, listening, questioning, probing, prompting,
supporting) that would enable visitors to develop an em-
pathic, trusting relationship with parents and other fam-
ily members (Wasik, Bryant, Lyons, et al., 1997).
The problem-solving curriculum was based on the
assumption that daily situations encountered by par-
ents are often complex and demanding, and that prob-
lem-solving skills can enhance overall parental
well-being and increase the likelihood of positive par-
ent-child relationships. The curriculum views problem
solving as a cognitive-behavioral process that includes
both thinking and action components. Seven steps are
emphasized: problem definition, goal selection, gener-
ation of solutions, consideration of consequences, deci-
sion making, implementation, and evaluation. Home
visitors gave explicit attention to each of these steps in
guided discussions with parents and used a booklet and
three visual aids as reminders of key words in the prob-
lem-solving process: a Stop card that includes the
Approaches to Families in Early Intervention: Five Basic Program Designs 579
words Stop, Think, Act, and Check; and a Think
card that includes key questions corresponding to the
problem-solving steps (What is the problem? What do I
want? What can I do? What will happen if ? What is my
decision? Wasik, Bryant, Lyons, et al., 1997).
The Even Start Family Literacy Program is illustra-
tive of the trend to include job-related training in two-
generation interventions. It was described earlier in this
chapter in the case illustration.
Effects
In the IHDP study, 985 infants were randomly assigned
to either intervention ( home visitors, child development
center, parent group meetings) or follow-up conditions
in each of the eight research sites through a computer-
driven process that gave consideration to such key
factors as birthweight, gender, maternal education, ma-
ternal race, and primary language in the home. Both in-
tervention group and follow-up group infants received
medical, developmental, and social assessments, with
referral to pediatric care and other services as needed.
At 3 years of age, the end of the intervention, interven-
tion children had significantly higher intelligence test
scores and receptive vocabulary test scores and lower
scores on a parental measure of reported behavior prob-
lems than children in the follow-up group. Benefits
were more pronounced among heavier low-birthweight
than in lighter low-birthweight infants (IHDP, 1990).
Child outcomes were positively associated with fre-
quency of family participation in the intervention
(Ramey et al., 1992). When children were 5 years
of age, there were no significant overall differences in
IQ score, receptive vocabulary, or reported behavior
problems, but heavier low-birthweight children in the
intervention had higher IQ scores, verbal IQ scores,
and receptive vocabulary scores than their counterparts
in the follow-up group (Brooks-Gunn et al., 1994).
At 8 years of age, there were modest intervention ef-
fects on cognitive and academic skills of heavier low-
birthweight children (McCarton et al., 1997).
There were no intervention effects on the home envi-
ronment, as measured by the HOME inventory, at 12
months, but at 36 months the home environments of in-
tervention families were higher than follow-up families
in total HOME scores, suggesting that the impact of the
intervention may be cumulative. At 36 months, there
were intervention effects on the learning stimulation,
modeling, variety of experience, and acceptance sub-
scales, aspects of the home environment emphasized in
the Partners for Learning curriculum (Bradley et al.,
1994). The intervention effect on childrens IQ scores at
3 years of age was much greater for children from lower-
quality homes, as measured by the HOME inventory. As
noted earlier, there were no overall intervention effects
on child IQ at 5 and 8 years of age (control group chil-
dren caught up with treatment group children at age 8
years), and the IQ difference between children from
higher- and lower-quality home environments, as mea-
sured when children were 3 years of age, declined with
child age (Bradley, Burchinal, & Casey, 2001).
Analysis of videotaped mother-child interaction at
the childs 30-month clinic visit found small positive
effects of the intervention on maternal interactive
behavior but not on a rating summarizing maternal af-
fective behavior. A rating of dyadic quality of the
mother-child interactions showed that intervention
mothers and their children were more synchronous, ex-
hibiting greater cooperation and harmony, than follow-
up mother-child dyads, and intervention children were
rated as significantly more persistent and goal-directed
and more attentive, involved, and enthusiastic while
working on a challenging problem-solving task in the
presence of the childs mother (Spiker, Ferguson, &
Brooks-Gunn, 1993).
Intervention mothers scored higher than follow-up
group mothers on a self-report measure of problem-
solving skills, but there were no differences between in-
tervention and follow-up group mothers on a measure
of coping with health and daily living at 36 months
(Wasik, Bryant, Sparling, & Ramey, 1997) and on mea-
sures of knowledge or concepts of child development at
12, 24, or 36 months (Benasich, Brooks-Gunn, Spiker,
& Black, 1997).
The IHDP intervention reduced maternal distress
(depression and anxiety) when children were 1 and 3
years of age, especially for women with less than high
school education, but maternal distress did not moderate
or mediate intervention effects on child outcomes. IHDP
effects on maternal distress at 1 year were likely a result
of the home visits because child development center and
parent group meetings were not offered during the 1st
year. Life events moderated the influence of the inter-
vention on childrens test scores; the intervention was
more effective for children whose mother had fewer life
events (Klebanov, Brooks-Gunn, & McCormick, 2001).
Even Start has been evaluated in three national evalu-
ations beginning in 1989. The third and most recent eval-
uation, conducted from 1997/1998 through 2000/2001,
included an experimental design study to test program ef-
fectiveness in 18 sites involving about 460 families who
580 Families and Early Childhood Interventions
were randomly assigned to either Even Start or a control
group (St. Pierre et al., 2003). Results indicated that Even
Start Program children and parents did not gain more
than control group children and parents, about one-third
of whom received early childhood education or adult ed-
ucation through non-Even Start services. Even Start fam-
ilies participated in a small amount of program services
relative to their apparent needs and program goals. There
was some evaluation evidence to suggest that Even Start
early childhood classrooms, though of good quality over-
all, gave insufficient attention to language acquisition
and reasoning skills.
Preliminary Hypotheses about Program Design
Although it is impossible to move toward conclusions
about the design of family interventions from a review
of programs selected for illustrative purposes only, the
patterns of findings across these different approaches to
families point to some preliminary hypotheses about
central features of program design.
It appears unlikely that the child serves as a media-
tor of early childhood program effects on family inter-
actions when parents are assigned an adjunct role in an
intensive early childhood program. Because interven-
tions targeted to parents living in high-risk circum-
stances are complicated and difficult enterprises, there
is great appeal in the notion that direct work with the
child can trigger changes in patterns of interaction
within a family, thereby reducing the need to work with
parents to achieve positive change in parent-child inter-
actions. Years ago, Lazar (1983) proposed a pattern of
stimulation stimulating, wherein a child comes home
from preschool with skills and interests that place new
demands on family interactions (i.e., child requests to
be read to) and prompt parents to praise the childs ac-
complishments and to raise their achievement expecta-
tions and encouragement of the child to do well in
school. Although the Abecedarian findings suggest that
experimental group children presented different de-
mand characteristics when interacting with their
mother, there is no subsequent evidence to suggest that
these behaviors led to changes in family interactions.
This is not surprising theoretically. Family systems
theory indicates that homeostatic features of families
maintain the stability of their patterns of interaction
(Minuchin, 1985, 2002).
More generally, it seems that placement of parents in
an adjunct role in an intensive early childhood program
is unlikely to impact parents child-rearing competence.
This is an important hypothesis to investigate because
the provisions for program connections with parents in
the Abecedarian project mirror the widely used NAEYC
guidelines for appropriate practice in early childhood
programs.
Increasing the frequency of focused program ex-
changes with parentsrepresented in the program de-
sign where parents assume a supplementary role in an
early childhood programmay increase the likelihood
of program impact on parenting competence and child
outcomes if the content is focused on a single child-
rearing domain that is also a curriculum enhancement
in the early childhood program. Results of the dialogic
reading program (Whitehurst, Arnold, et al., 1994) and
the child conduct program (Webster-Stratton et al.,
2001) demonstrate the promise of a dual home-and-
school focus on well-defined content.
Programs that embrace a broad area of content have
greater opportunity than more narrowly focused pro-
grams to employ the social work principle Begin where
clients are. The flexibility and, one hopes, the re-
sourcefulness to focus on a range of issues do not neces-
sarily ensure that the program worker will eventually
engage parents in child-related topics once other matters
have been addressed. The ability to weave child and
parent content into a conversation dominated by a par-
ents legitimate concerns about other pressing personal
or family circumstances requires keen clinical skills
that may be more readily possessed by professionals
than paraprofessionals. A relationship with one staff
person also may help parents focus on parent and child
issues. For example, in the CCDP, the separation of
child development and parenting information (provided
by a bachelors-level staff person in most sites) from
case management work (carried out by a paraprofes-
sional) may have seemed artificial to parents and may
have suppressed in-depth discussion of child and parent-
ing concerns in the context of other family matters. One
striking difference between the CCDP and the NFP is
the focus on the nurse-mother-family relationships, par-
ent development, and connections with informal social
support networks in NFP and on referral to and broker-
ing with formal services in CCDP. In view of NFP ef-
fects on child and parent outcomes, particularly for
parents at greatest risk, a relationship-based approach to
intervention in the context of informal and formal sys-
tems of family support may be central to promoting
child and parent well-being.
Needed Directions in Approaches to Families in Early Childhood Interventions 581
Program assistance with parents job-related skills is
unlikely to have immediate positive effects on parenting
and child outcomes. Parental workplace experiences
may increase the value parents place on their childs ed-
ucation, and characteristics of parents jobs (e.g., auton-
omy, problem solving) have been found to be significant
predictors of child outcomes, such as reduced child
behavior problems (Cooksey, Menaghan, & Jekielek,
1997) and early reading ability (Parcel & Menaghan,
1994). Yet, the path to major change in education and
employment is slow and uncertain for educationally dis-
advantaged parents living in poverty (Wilson, Ellwood,
& Brooks-Gunn, 1995), and low-pay, low-complexity
work for mothers attempting to leave welfare may result
in negative child outcomes (Menaghan & Parcel, 1995).
Thus, it seems unrealistic to expect that associations
found between parenting practices and child outcomes
in substantively more complex employment will be real-
ized in a timely manner for low-income young children
typically targeted for early intervention.
NEEDED DIRECTIONS IN
APPROACHES TO FAMILIES IN EARLY
CHILDHOOD INTERVENTIONS
Needed directions in research and program development
are set forth below. In both areas, emphasis is given to
focusing on the components and processes of interven-
tions with families.
Research
Since the 1960s, the early intervention field has been
driven by research on program models that span a range
of assumptions about how to improve the outcomes of
children at risk. Current funding streams, policies, and
practices have been greatly influenced by the design and
evaluation results of prominent models. At the same
time, the early intervention field is composed mostly of
state- and locally developed efforts that may be inspired
by but seldom are full replications or adoptions of exist-
ing models (Ramey & Ramey, 1998). Moreover, there is
a history of model interventions being watered down in
the process of taking programs to scale as policymakers
trade quantity for quality in stretching program re-
sources (Schorr & Schorr, 1988). One proposed solution
to this problem is for developers of model programs to
emphasize essential elements of the model (Olds,
OBrien, Racine, Glazner, & Kitzman, 1998). A persua-
sive case for specific model components is difficult to
make when research on program models examines an in-
tervention package rather than individual program ele-
ments, as noted earlier in this chapter. Too, adaptation
to local circumstances is expected practice in the devel-
opment of new programs or adoption of an existing pro-
gram model (Yoshikawa et al., 2002). Research on
potentially critical elements of intervention programs,
then, holds promise of providing guidance to program
implementers, particularly when a set of studies can be
used to formulate indicators of program quality in work
with families.
Rigorous research methods, particularly experimental
designs, are essential to searches for critical elements of
effective interventions. Within-group comparison analy-
ses are the dominant design of existing research on poten-
tially critical elements of early interventions. An example
is the dosage-response relationship. The chief problem
with correlational methods is that causality cannot be es-
tablished. Strong positive correlations between indices of
program participation and program outcomes are diffi-
cult to interpret, for example, because preintervention
population differences may be related to participant-
outcome relationships. Needed, then, are experimental
studies that systematically vary a program element. Espe-
cially informative are between-group comparison studies
that entail an enhancement or adaptation of a particular
program, found to be effective in prior investigations, to
determine whether there are more effective program de-
signs. Movement in this direction requires resources as
well as maturity in research-based development of inter-
vention models that currently is limited to a relatively
small set of early childhood interventions. Examples in-
clude planned variation in the use of videotapes versus
in-person staff to demonstrate effective joint book read-
ing strategies with preschool children (Arnold et al.,
1994) and in the use of professional nurses versus para-
professionals to deliver a home visiting program (Olds
et al., 2002). Also illustrative of this approach is a feder-
ally funded Even Start study, known as the Classroom
Literacy Interventions and Outcomes study, initiated in
2003 to assess the relative effectiveness of different fam-
ily literacy curricula in promoting language and literacy
outcomes for children and their parents (St. Pierre, Ric-
ciuti, & Tao, 2004).
In addition to stronger research designs, the investi-
gation of family interventions needs sophisticated
measurement approaches and sufficient resources for
data collection with a population that often is difficult
582 Families and Early Childhood Interventions
to track and engage. The customary sample attrition
rates alone present multiple challenges for data col-
lection and analyses (McCall & Green, 2004) and in-
terpretation of results (Wagner et al., 2002). Observa-
tional methods need to be central to the measurement
of program outcomes (particularly among adults)
and program processes. Existing studies suggest that
the conceptualization and measurement of program
processes need to move beyond frequency of program
contact with participants (D. R. Powell et al., 2004).
Further, the status of program implementation re-
search needs to be elevated through use of rigorous
methods to assess treatment fidelity and through con-
tributions to our understanding of links between pro-
gram variables and participant outcomes.
Especially needed are theoretically driven research
designs for examining the mediator and moderator roles
of family factors in early intervention processes. Much
of the existing research has a post hoc, exploratory
quality and, though investigators are to be commended
for maximizing the yield of studies originally intended
to examine child outcomes with minimal attention to
process variables, the results are typically elusive. The
early intervention field would benefit from greater use
of an incremental, research-based approach to program
development. Gradual improvements in the design of
a program model based in part on results of repeated
experimental study have not been the norm of program
development in early intervention (Yoshikawa et al.,
2002), yet the more effective interventions have fol-
lowed this pattern. For example, the content and meth-
ods of the NFP were revised after each of three
consecutive randomized trials that, as noted earlier,
also produced important data on how well the model
worked with different populations and in semirural and
urban settings. Specifically, the interventions parent-
infant curricula were broadened to promote sensitive
and responsive caregiving through refinements and ex-
pansions that incorporated activities from other inter-
ventions (Olds, Kitzman, et al., 1997). This incremental
approach to program development is in contrast with the
early intervention fields modal pattern of taking pro-
grams to scale without a well-researched model pro-
gram to provide a solid base of guidance for program
design and implementation decisions. Head Start is a
classic example of the rapid launching of a program
(Zigler & Muenchow, 1992). The quick program roll-
out pattern has continued with, for example, the 23-site
Comprehensive Child Development Program, based
partly on the Beethoven Project in Chicago, which had a
history of program implementation problems, and with
the Even Start Family Literacy Program, initially im-
plemented in 76 sites and based loosely on a program
model (the Parent and Child Education Program in Ken-
tucky; Heberle, 1992) that has not been subjected to a
credible experimental study.
A potential limitation of an incremental approach to
program development is that the societal context initially
giving shape to a program model may shift while the pro-
gram is in development, rendering the program model
incompatible with contemporary circumstances. An ex-
ample is the Parent-Child Development Center Program.
The PCDC research and program development plan was
experimental, rigorous, and long term with replications,
but some of the interventions basic assumptions about
the target population (e.g., stay-at-home mothers avail-
able for frequent, daytime participation at a program
center) proved to be problematic while the program was
undergoing a randomized outcome study and contributed
to premature termination of the larger project. The pro-
gram was conceived prior to serious national economic
troubles, including inflation, and the growth of the
womens movement in the 1970s. The PCDC emphasized
motherhood and child-rearing skills, but program partic-
ipants increasingly were interested in other roles, includ-
ing potential wage earner, and not solely interested in
their role as an agent for enhancing their childs develop-
ment. Many program participants entered or reentered
the labor force for personal as well as financial reasons
(Andrews et al., 1982).
Program Development
A challenge facing any social intervention is respon-
siveness to the daily realities of the target population.
Interventions aimed at families living in poverty and
high-risk conditions have long struggled with this task
(e.g., Chilman, 1973). Today, most parents living in
poverty are engaged in school, job training, or employ-
ment. In the broader population, families with young
children increasingly face difficult decisions about use
of time for family and work, with employment patterns
suggesting, for example, that employed mothers of
preschoolers in dual-earner families work about 9 more
hours a week than they would prefer and fathers work
hours increasing as the number of children rises (Ja-
cobs & Gerson, 2004). Parent employment is negatively
correlated with level of parent participation in Head
Start (e.g., Castro, Bryant, Peisner-Feinberg, & Skin-
ner, 2004), and growing numbers of parents are un-
Needed Directions in Approaches to Families in Early Childhood Interventions 583
available for participation in time-intensive interven-
tion programs crafted in an earlier era.
The limited availability of many parents for program
participation provides a pragmatic basis for dismissing
the idea of working with parents and primary care-
givers. However, early interventions that programmati-
cally disconnect children from their families reduce the
potential of enhancing childrens well-being by ignoring
a major context of early development. Nonfamilial child
care does not reduce the influence of parents on chil-
drens behavior and development (e.g., National Insti-
tute of Child Health and Human Development Early
Child Care Research Network, 1998), and family fac-
tors continue to be among the predictors of young chil-
drens outcomes when children participate in intensive
classroom-based early interventions (Burchinal, Camp-
bell, Bryant, Wasik, & Ramey, 1997).
Contemporary family conditions heighten interest in
family program designs that work with parents in con-
junction with an early childhood program. A common
configuration is for parents to assume an adjunct role in
relation to their childs center-based program. A poten-
tially significant limitation of the adjunct role is that it
does not appear to lead to improvements in parents child-
rearing competence, as noted in the previous section.
Of greater promise is the program design character-
ized by a supplementary role for parents, particularly
when well-defined program content is shared with par-
ents in a concentrated time period and also emphasized
in the early childhood curriculum. The examples in the
previous section were curriculum enhancements of ex-
isting preschool programs that involved both parent and
teacher in focused training aimed at improving chil-
drens early reading skills (Whitehurst, Arnold, et al.,
1994) and behavior conduct (Webster-Stratton et al.,
2001). Efficiency is one of many appeals of these ap-
proaches. Work with parents was frequent but within a
relatively brief time frame and presumably focused on
content of keen interest to parents. Because some studies
of early childhood programs have found weak or no ef-
fects of an add-on educational component for parents
(e.g., Boyce, White, & Kerr, 1993), an important future
direction is to identify characteristics of effective ap-
proaches. Also needed is follow-up research on the sus-
tainability of short-term effects achieved by these
content-specific approaches as well as on the extent to
which parents (and teachers) continue to engage in prac-
tices promoted by the intervention.
Family interventions aimed at helping parents im-
prove their educational and vocational aspirations while
also providing an early childhood programthe parent
and child as primary participants design described in
the previous sectionappear on the surface to be re-
sponsive to the needs of many low-income families, but
considerable program development work is needed to re-
fine the potential of this approach. It is not clear that the
current organization of most two-generation programs
address in sufficient detail the range of problems experi-
enced by program participants living in poverty. Indi-
vidual program components may be of insufficient
intensity (St. Pierre et al., 1998). One task is to achieve
balanced, high-quality attention to both parent and child
in two-generation interventions. Anecdotal information
from the Even Start Program suggests there is a ten-
dency for some programs to focus on one set of out-
comes at the exclusion of others, for example, viewing
the preschool component as a custodial arrangement
staffed by minimally trained individuals and aimed at
freeing parents for participation in parenting or job
training classes. The mission of the sponsoring agency
(i.e., early childhood or adult education) and the out-
comes by which programs are assessed (i.e., childrens
school readiness or adult GED completion rates) may
contribute to imbalances. A related task is to provide
quality services in each of the components. For example,
most adult education programs are replications of poor
high school settings in which most Even Start partici-
pants initially failed (St. Pierre et al., 1998).
Important program development work needs to be
carried out with program content. The previous section
on intervention design suggests that program goals and
content are linked to participant outcomes. Intervention
programs have a valuable role to play in testing hypothe-
ses offered in developmental literatures (see section on
Elements of Programmatic Support to Families). Fa-
ther contributions to family functioning are an example
of an area in pressing need of further development. Sys-
tematic refinement and assessment of program goals and
content require some boundaries. The family functions
that interventions seek to support or changethat is, the
goals and content of a programrepresent many differ-
ent variables that expand in number and diversity as
interventions broaden their reach. The substantive
offerings of an intervention also need to be thoughtfully
calibrated with target population interests and circum-
stances. For example, Farran (2000) has speculated that
the problem-solving skills curriculum used with parents
in the Infant Health and Development Project may have
been more frustrating than helpful to parents attempting
to cope with poverty-related problems that often are
584 Families and Early Childhood Interventions
fairly intractable (e.g., inadequate housing, poor health,
lack of transportation, little money).
Intervention methods also need thoughtful program
development attention. For example, Gomby and col-
leagues (1999, p. 17) have suggested that home visiting
program attrition rates may reflect family views of a
most unusual approach to service delivery. There are
very few occasions in America in which a nonfamily
member regularly visits the home to persuade someone
to change his or her behavior. As suggested in previous
sections of this chapter, interventions have a long way to
go in applying family systems theory to practices with
participants (i.e., working with relationship systems,
not individuals per se) and in examining the effects of
different pedagogical approaches, particularly strate-
gies that encourage active participant engagement.
The long-neglected area of program implementation
needs to be a high priority of program designers. The ex-
tant literature contains potent hints of some serious prob-
lems in carrying out program plans. Because staffing
arrangements appear to be a linchpin in intervention pro-
grams, the early intervention field would benefit from
future work that refines and transcends the paraprofes-
sional versus professional debate to examine specific
skills and background characteristics of effective inter-
vention staff as well as approaches to staff supervision.
Family interventions operate at the intersection of
profound sociopolitical changes affecting families,
growing societal concern about childrens outcomes, a
limited base of pertinent empirical science, and often
unrealistic expectations of what programs can accom-
plish. It is difficult to overstate the complexities of re-
search and practice in this terrain. It is equally difficult
to overemphasize the opportunities to contribute to an
understanding of how the hopes and actions of families
can be marshaled on behalf of their childrens futures.
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592
CHAPTER 15
School-Based Social and Emotional
Learning Programs
JEFFREY S. KRESS and MAURICE J. ELIAS
THE COMPLEX, LONGITUDINAL NATURE OF
SCHOOL-BASED SOCIAL-EMOTIONAL
LEARNING INTERVENTIONS 595
DEVELOPMENTAL ARENAS IN SOCIAL-
EMOTIONAL LEARNING PROGRAM
IMPLEMENTATION 597
Developmental Arena 1: Program Implementation 597
Developmental Arena 2: The ProgramImplementers 600
Developmental Arena 3: The Social-Emotional
Learning Intervention 601
Developmental Arena 4: The Consultant 602
Developmental Arena 5: The Child 605
INTEGRATION: THE GRADIENT OF
DEVELOPMENTAL RELEVANCE 609
DEVELOPMENTAL SNAPSHOTS 610
Developmental Snapshot 1: Resistant
Clinical Constituents 612
Snapshot 2: Integrating Interventions 614
CONCLUSIONS 616
REFERENCES 616
From the late 1990s schools have been inundated with
well-intentioned prevention and promotion programs
that address such diverse issues as bullying, HIV/AIDS,
alcohol, careers, character, civics, conflict resolution,
delinquency, dropout, family life, health, morals, multi-
culturalism, pregnancy, service learning, truancy, and
violence.
At the same time, the year 2002 marked the passage of
the No Child Left Behind (NCLB) legislation, which
placed a strong emphasis on test scores as the most im-
portant and tangible outcome of educational achieve-
ment. School funding was tied to progress in test
performance, and educators quickly found themselves
faced with a dilemma. The needs that had generated the
proliferation of prevention-related programs had not
abated. However, their accountability structure changed
in ways that seemed incompatible with the continuation
of those programs.
Signs of this dilemma were evident over a decade ago
(Elias, 1995, pp.1213):
The continuing undercurrent of emphasis on basic aca-
demic skills is probably driven more by economic and
workplace forcesboth domestic and internationalthan
by a genuine concern with the well-being of our nations
children and youth. For if the latter were the case, com-
pelling statements about the inextricable bond linking per-
sonal, social, affective, and cognitive development would
be more in the forefront. Arguments have been made that
Placing an overlay of strong academic demands on the
current educational climate is likely to result in few in-
creases in learning and instead exacerbate current stress-
related problems and lead to further alienation among our
student population. (Elias, 1989, pp. 393394)
What was previously described as an undercurrent has
now become a riptide, and the stress-related sequelae of
trying to meet the academic and psychological demands
of students in the schools are drowning both students and
teachers alike. Efforts to redress these problems by re-
turning attention to the bond across developmental areas
have not been absent during this time, but they have un-
dergone both conceptual and practical reformulations.
Concomitantly, our understanding of what is required to
implement these effortsmost specifically, what is
being demanded of those who are expert consultants to
implement interventions in schoolshas become more
sophisticated.
How have schools attempted to respond to growing
demands to implement effective educational approaches
School-Based Social and Emotional Learning Programs 593
that promote academic success, enhance health, and pre-
vent problem behaviors? Unfortunately, many child ad-
vocates, educational policymakers, and researchers,
despite their good intentions, have proposed fragmented
initiatives to address problems without an adequate un-
derstanding of the mission, priorities, and culture of
schools (Sarason, 1996).
For a number of reasons, these uncoordinated efforts
often fail to live up to their potential. Typically, they are
introduced as a series of short-term, fragmented pro-
gram initiatives. They are not sufficiently linked to the
central mission of schools or to the issues for which
teachers and other school personnel are held account-
able, which is primarily academic performance. Rarely
is there adequate staff development and support for pro-
gram implementation. Programs that are insufficiently
coordinated, monitored, evaluated, and improved over
time have reduced impact on student behavior.
Even before the crisis precipitated by the NCLB leg-
islation, concern for the disappointing performance of
many prevention and health promotion efforts spurred a
1994 meeting hosted by the Fetzer Institute. Attendees
included school-based prevention researchers, educators,
and child advocates who were involved in diverse educa-
tional efforts to enhance childrens positive develop-
ment, including social competence promotion, emotional
intelligence, drug education, violence prevention, sex ed-
ucation, health promotion, character education, service
learning, civic education, school reform, and school-
family-community partnerships. The Fetzer group first
introduced the term social and emotional learning (SEL)
as a conceptual framework to address both the needs
of young people and the fragmentation that typically
characterizes the response of schools to those needs
(Elias et al., 1997). They believed that, unlike the many
categorical prevention programs that targeted specific
problems, SEL programming could address underlying
causes of problem behavior while supporting academic
achievement. A new organization, the Collaborative for
Academic, Social, and Emotional Learning (CASEL),
also emerged from this meeting with the goal of estab-
lishing high-quality, evidence-based SEL as an essential
part of preschool through high school education (see
www.CASEL.org).
Social and emotional learning skills have had several
competing conceptualizations, including those of Bar-
On (Bar-On & Parker, 2000), Mayer and Salovey
(1993), Goleman (1995), and CASEL (Elias, 2003). Of
these, CASELs has been most focused on children and
has served as the guide for virtually all school-based
SEL interventions. Hence, we will concern ourselves
with CASELs view of SEL skills. (See Ciarrochi, For-
gas, & Mayer, 2001, for an overview of theoretical per-
spectives.)
The skills of social-emotional learning are pre-
sented in Table 15.1. CASEL (2003) posits five inter-
related skill areas: self-awareness, social awareness,
self-management and organization, responsible prob-
lem solving, and relationship management. Within
each area, there are specific competencies supported
by research and practice as essential for effective so-
cial-emotional functioning. The list does not purport
to be comprehensive; rather, it is drawn from research
and practice and is intended to guide intervention.
Further, the conceptualization of the skills is that they
are important at all developmental levels; what
changes is the level of cognitive-emotional complexity
with which they are applied, as well as the situations
in which they will be used. Hence, Table 15.1 provides
a framework for looking at the skills from the perspec-
tive of childhood and beyond. (See Elias et al., 1997,
for versions appropriate to other stages of child devel-
opment.)
The fact that SEL has been part of the popular litera-
ture is significant. People reading about it from all walks
of life, from various professions, as psychologists, edu-
cators, members of the business community, and parents,
can share this term (Goleman, 1995). Similarly, SEL
and emotional intelligence found their way into psychol-
ogy, education, business, and other professional journals
and in over 30 languages. This has created a base of in-
terest and involvement that far eclipsed prior work in so-
cial competence promotion, even though the long history
of research and conceptualization in that area clearly
provided the foundation from which SEL and emotional
intelligence could spring (Consortium on the School-
Based Promotion of Social Competence, 1994).
However, SEL also had value added as a concept.
First, it placed a strong emphasis on such dimensions as
emotion and spirituality (Kessler, 2000). Second, it was
based in advances in brain research (Brandt, 2003).
Third, SEL became tied to factors that were being stud-
ied in education and related fields as mediators of aca-
demic performance, that is, the emotional state of
children, their cognitive capacity to learn, and their
style of learning. Just as the education field seemed to
be focusing on back to basics in terms of both skills
and learning approaches, the SEL field was uncovering
594 School-Based Social and Emotional Learning Programs
TABLE 15.1 Social-Emotional Learning Skills
Self-Awareness
Recognizing and naming ones emotions
Understanding the reasons and circumstances for feeling as one does
Recognizing and naming others emotions
Recognizing strengths in, and mobilizing positive feelings about ,
self, school, family, and support networks
Knowing ones needs and values
Perceiving oneself accurately
Believing in personal efficacy
Having a sense of spirituality
Social Awareness
Appreciating diversity
Showing respect to others
Listening carefully and accurately
Increasing empathy and sensitivity to others feelings
Understanding others perspectives, points of view, and feelings
Self-Management and Organization
Verbalizing and coping with anxiety, anger, and depression
Controlling impulses, aggression, and self-destructive, antisocial
behavior
Managing personal and interpersonal stress
Focusing on tasks at hand
Setting short- and long-term goals
Planning thoughtfully and thoroughly
Modifying performance in light of feedback
Mobilizing positive motivation
Activating hope and optimism
Working toward optimal performance states
Responsible Decision Making
Analyzing situations perceptively and identifying problems clearly
Exercising social decision-making and problem-solving skills
Responding constructively and in a problem-solving manner to
interpersonal obstacles
Engaging in self-evaluation and ref lection
Conducting oneself with personal, moral, and ethical responsibility
Relationship Management
Managing emotions in relationships, harmonizing diverse feelings
and viewpoints
Showing sensitivity to social-emotional cues
Expressing emotions effectively
Communicating clearly
Engaging others in social situations
Building relationships
Working cooperatively
Exercising assertiveness, leadership, and persuasion
Managing conf lict , negotiation, refusal
Providing, seeking help
reasons why genuine learning required attention to other
factors (Zins, Weissberg, Wang, & Walberg, 2004).
Yet another trend was operating in the late 1990s and
early 2000s that is relevant to understanding SEL, its
emergence, and why action research in that field has
generated such unique insights. Both in the therapeutic
field and in education, there was a push for evidence-
based interventions. Those who were funding services
(managed care companies and federal and state govern-
ment for the former; federal, state, and local government
for the latter) were concerned about accountability. Were
children receiving services that were cost-effective?
Could they be delivered in prescriptive ways, to ensure
fidelity and maximize efficiency? Thus came the push
for manualized therapeutic interventions and scripted
school reform plans and related interventions. And with
these circumscribed interventions came the need for ac-
countability and the gold standard of research: random-
ized clinical trials.
Randomized clinical trials work best for discrete,
time-limited, low-complexity interventions (Elias,
1997). This led to an ascendance of the short-term, fo-
cused program as the unit of intervention and study,
along with the illusion/deception that programs were
simple to implement in a controlled, replicable, and con-
sistent manner. Outcomes research focused on the effi-
cacy of such programs as implemented in model sites.
For example, the American Psychological Associations
14 Ounces of Prevention (Price, Cowen, Lorion, &
Ramos-McKay, 1988) and the 1997 publication Primary
Prevention Works (Albee & Gullotta, 1997) contain pro-
gram descriptions and outcome data for SEL programs
that address a range of populations across the life span.
In the chapter in the latter volume on the Social Deci-
sion Making/Social Problem Solving program, which
is the focus of this chapter, data were reviewed showing
the efficacy of the program in terms of (a) improving
teachers abilities in facilitating students social deci-
sion making and problem solving and ( b) improving
the social decision-making and problem-solving skills
of students. Positive outcomes such as these further
boosted interest in the field.
As the field matured, it became evident that there
were significant issues to consider in terms not only of
the structure of a program, but also of the process by
which a program is implemented in a setting. Gager and
Elias (1997) showed clearly that so-called model pro-
grams were variable in their success, and that their out-
comes were related most strongly to implementation
The Complex, Longitudinal Nature of School-Based Social-Emotional Learning Interventions 595
considerations. That is, a model program could be car-
ried out successfully and unsuccessfully in almost equal
measure. (It should be noted that an essentially asym-
metric relationship is suggested by the research, in that
sound program design is a necessary but not sufficient
condition for positive outcomes, whereas poor program
design is highly unlikely to lead to positive outcomes, re-
gardless of implementation.) This was not a reflection
on the programs, but showed that the implementation
process could no longer be neglected from a research, in-
tervention, or conceptualization point of view. Social-
emotional factors in the environment of the program,
including its ecological context, had a strong influence
on the effectiveness and impact of the program.
THE COMPLEX, LONGITUDINAL NATURE
OF SCHOOL-BASED SOCIAL-EMOTIONAL
LEARNING INTERVENTIONS
It is beneficial to provide a developmentally appropriate
combination of formal, curriculum-based instruction with
ongoing informal and infused opportunities to develop so-
cial and emotional skills from preschool through high
school. (Elias et al., 1997, p. 33)
It has become widely accepted among researchers
and those deeply involved with the SEL field that learn-
ing social and emotional skills is similar to learning
other academic skills. That is, the effect of initial learn-
ing is enhanced over time to address the increasingly
complex situations children face regarding academics,
social relationships, citizenship, and health. This out-
come is best accomplished through effective classroom
instruction; student engagement in positive activities in
and out of the classroom; and broad student, parent,
and community involvement in program planning, imple-
mentation, and evaluation (CASEL, 2003; Weissberg &
Greenberg, 1998). Ideally, planned, ongoing, system-
atic, and coordinated SEL instruction should begin in
preschool and continue through high school.
Social and emotional learning programs also take
many forms, but several generalities can be drawn about
them. To begin with, a definition of SEL is provided by
CASEL (2003, p. 8):
Social and emotional learning (SEL) is the process of de-
veloping fundamental social and emotional competencies
in children. SEL programming is based on the understand-
ing that (1) the best learning emerges from supportive and
challenging relationships, and (2) many different kinds of
factors are caused by the same risk factors.
The specifics of how these relationships are formed
and how the risk factors are addressed will vary from
program to program. Recent years have seen the prolif-
eration of SEL-enhancing programs and efforts. In an
effort to help educators navigate among and decide be-
tween various programs and to effectively incorporate
these into their practice, reviews of effectiveness re-
search (e.g., CASEL, 2003) have been conducted and
guidelines established for what constitutes effective
programming (e.g., Elias et al., 1997). For example,
Elias et al. delineate the scope of SEL programmatic ef-
forts in the first of their 39 Guidelines for Educators:
Educators at all levels need explicit plans to help students
become knowledgeable, responsible, and caring. Efforts
are needed to build and reinforce skills in four major do-
mains of SEL:
1. Life skills and social competencies.
2. Health promotion and problem prevention skills.
3. Coping skills and social support for transitions and
crises.
4. Positive, contributory service. (pp. 2122)
Successful programmatic approaches include a com-
bination of direct instruction in social and emotional
skills as well as opportunities to practice these skills in
a variety of situations. Direct instruction involves intro-
ducing students to the basic components of complex so-
cial and emotional skills. Students practice the use of
these skills, and receive guided feedback from the
teacher. Teachers may establish prompts for use as cues
by students to put the behaviors to use. A basic example
can be drawn from the Social Decision Making/Social
Problem Solving Program (SDM/SPS; Elias & Bruene-
Butler, 2005a, 2005b, 2005c) that is discussed in depth
later in this chapter. This curriculum includes instruc-
tion in communication skills. In this unit, students learn
the prompt Listening Position, which includes the fol-
lowing behavioral components: (a) Sit or stand straight,
( b) face the speaker, (c) look at the speaker. These three
components are modeled by the teacher and practiced by
the students as the teacher provides feedback on their
efforts. The teacher may use a practice activity, such as
asking the students to use Listening Position during a
game that involves paying auditory attention (e.g., Clap
your hands when you hear me say a certain word).
Again, the teacher provides feedback.
596 School-Based Social and Emotional Learning Programs
In addition to this type of direct instruction, SEL
skills are best taught when infused throughout the school
day and in all aspects of a students experience. To con-
tinue with the earlier example, teachers can find opportu-
nities for students to role-play listening skills as part of a
discussion about literature or history. A science teacher
may reinforce listening skills as part of a lesson on the
five senses. A principal, in calling an assembly to order,
may use the same Listening Position prompt that stu-
dents learned in their classrooms. Finally, efforts can be
made to engage parents in the process by orienting them
to the skills and prompts and helping them understand
how best to coach their children.
As suggested by these examples, a comprehensively
implemented approach to SEL transcends work by indi-
vidual teachers in individual classes. In addition to
the type of curriculum-based work described earlier,
J. Cohen (1999, p. 13) points out that SEL can be ad-
dressed in less formal, noncurriculum-based ways in
which educators discover ways of being further attuned
to SEL and how best to incorporate it into all they do at
school, thereby integrating a set of principles and prac-
tices with work that is taking place in the classroom.
Further, Cohen points out that there are SEL initiatives
targeting students at risk. Further, Cohen discusses a di-
mension of SEL specifically focusing on the educators
themselves and the SEL competencies and experiences of
those working in the school. Building on Cohens rubric,
we suggest two further related areas in which SEL can be
manifested in a school. First, we can think about systemic
SEL, or SEL initiatives that transcend the classroom and
have to do with school policies (such as discipline) and
governance (e.g., how students can have meaningful input
into the functioning of the school community). Second,
we see the importance of administrative SEL, or the abil-
ity of the administrator to draw on the principles of SEL
in his or her interactions with staff and students and in
bringing new programs or initiatives to the school.
Numerous successful, multiyear, multicomponent,
school-based interventions promote positive academic,
social, emotional, and health behavior. Examples in-
clude the following:
Creating coordinated, caring communities of learners
and enhancement of school and classroom climate
through a combination of class meetings, peer leader-
ship, family involvement, and whole-school commu-
nity building activities (Battistich, Schaps, Watson, &
Solomon, 1996; Solomon, Battistich, Watson, Schaps,
& Lewis, 2000). This takes place by having an entire
school staff come together to discuss the potential pro-
gram and agree that they support the values and proce-
dures that are encompassed by the program and are
prepared to implement it over time.
Strengthening teacher instructional practices and
increasing family involvement (Hawkins, Catalano,
Kosterman, Abbott, & Hill, 1999). Teachers are taught
how to create opportunities for children to bond with
one another and participate in and support the creation
of school norms; parents are similarly engaged in sup-
porting school norms and in learning skills of nonvio-
lent conflict resolution and anger management with
their children.
Establishing smaller units within schools and build-
ing trust among school staff, families, and students,
thereby increasing student access, guidance, and
support from school staff and other students (Felner
et al., 1997). Specifically, students entering middle
and high school do so in their own wings of buildings
and share classes mostly with students in their own
grade to increase camaraderie and mutual support;
advisories also provide all students with regular
problem-solving opportunities.
Developing effective classroom-based SEL instruc-
tional programs that extend into all facets of
the school environments, as well as family and/or
community, to enhance students social-emotional
competence and health (Conduct Problems Preven-
tion Research Group, 1999; Elias, Gara, Schuyler,
Branden-Muller, & Sayette, 1991; Errecart et al.,
1991; Greenberg & Kusch, 1998; Perry, 1999; Shure
& Spivack, 1988). The skills imparted in such pro-
grams are reinforced by being explicitly used in phys-
ical education classes, in hallways, on the school bus,
as part of service learning experiences, and for fam-
ily problem solving. Invoking the skills outside the
curriculum and instructional context serves to rein-
force and generalize the use of those skills.
Despite the availability of evidence-based programs
of varying degrees of complexity, many schools still do
not use them (Ennett et al., 2003; Gottfredson & Got-
tfredson, 2001; Hallfors & Godette, 2002). For exam-
ple, Ennett et al. surveyed educators from a national
sample of public and private schools and found that
only 14% use interactive teaching strategies and effec-
tive content in delivering substance use prevention
programming. Hallfors and Godettes survey results
from 81 Safe and Drug-Free School district coordina-
Developmental Arenas in Social-Emotional Learning Program Implementation 597
tors across 11 states indicated that 59% had selected a
research-based curriculum for implementation, but
only 19% reported that their schools were implement-
ing these programs with fidelity. This issue is of equal
if not greater importance than generating new and
more accurate curricula; the level of practice would be
enhanced greatly if even current knowledge was imple-
mented to a greater degree.
The history and trajectory of development of the
field of SEL provides insights into what we believe is
one of the deep, structural issues maintaining the gap
between knowledge and practice. Since the emergence
of the SEL field, there has been a reconceptualization
of what is needed to be an effective action researcher
and practitioner. The field first moved from an empha-
sis on short-term, discrete programs, to a realization
that multicomponent, multilevel, multiyear interven-
tions, linked to the goals and fabric of the organiza-
tions for which they are intended, are essential for
successful, enduring outcomes (Weissberg & Elias,
1993). Accompanying this view is an evolving under-
standing of the skills needed to implement such efforts
effectively (Elias, 1997). Social and emotional learn-
ing, character education, service learning, prevention,
and related school-based programs and activities are
highly operator-dependent. That is, their success is not
linked to some automated technology, but rather to ac-
tions carried out by human beings interacting with
multiple others across situations over time. Even when
such interactions are scripted, there is great potential
variation, and the moment-to-moment decisions made
by the human operators of an intervention, in ecologi-
cal relationship to all those around them, greatly influ-
ence the ultimate outcomes.
For schools to successfully bring in comprehensive
approaches to SEL in enduring and effective ways, they
will need consultants who can negotiate a complex, inter-
active, ecological-developmental process. The remainder
of the chapter focuses on a pragmatic-theoretical guide
for consultants and researchers working to implement
SEL in a variety of contexts.
DEVELOPMENTAL ARENAS IN
SOCIAL-EMOTIONAL LEARNING
PROGRAM IMPLEMENTATION
As our contribution to the greater likelihood that
interactive, ecological-developmental processes will
be well-handled, we want to elucidate the develop-
mental nexus within which effective SEL takes place.
The centerpiece of our ecological considerations
is the consultant and the path that he or she takes to
being able to master, or at least address, the evolving
complexity of interventions. An additional level of
analysis is a set of developmental processes in the host
settings that must ultimately be in alignment if SEL is
to take root in a school and be a positive influence
on children.
Developmental Arena 1:
Program Implementation
Finding trends in the changing trajectories of individu-
als is a difficult endeavor due to the large number of
variables that may influence the pathways. Examining
the change trajectory of an organization, itself made up
of multiple individuals undergoing their own processes
of change within the ecology of the setting, yields a lit-
erature that is diverse and often unwieldy (Commins
& Elias, 1991, p. 207). Efforts to summarize the process
of program implementation within an organization are
necessarily summative generalizations of the efforts of
multiple individuals within the organization. A tempo-
ral cross section of the setting at a given point in time
may reveal individuals whose level of implementation
does not correspond to the overall level of implementa-
tion within the organization. New teachers come on
board and need to be brought up to speed. Veteran
teachers differ in terms of their own motivation to im-
plement the program. Individual differences in creativ-
ity or drive for innovation will impact the degree to
which one adheres to or makes changes to the program
being implemented.
However, even with the multitude of factors impact-
ing the process (many of which are discussed later in
this chapter), there are trends that emerge as implemen-
tation of a new program unfolds in a setting. Novick,
Kress, and Elias (2002), basing their work on Hord et al.
(1987), summarize these trends by looking at the gen-
eral levels of use of interventions by individuals within a
setting (Table 15.2).
The earliest stage, though technically one of nonuse, is
important in forming the foundation of future implemen-
tation efforts. All implementation efforts have a prehis-
tory (Sarason, 1972) of past experiences with innovation
in a setting, of beliefs, values, and experiences held by in-
dividuals within a setting, and of the culture of the school
598 School-Based Social and Emotional Learning Programs
TABLE 15.2 Levels of Use and Concern
Level of Use Staff Members at This Level
Level of
Concern Staff Members at This Level
Adult Learners at
This Level Need
Nonuse Have little or no knowledge, no
involvement , and no actions to
help them become involved.
Awareness May be concerned about the
consequences of SEL deficits,
but not about SEL programming
or implementation.
To gain an understanding of the
program rationale, the contextual
supports/incentive supports for
implementation, and skills
needed for implementation.
Orientation Are acquiring information about
SEL and its value orientation
and what it will require to carry
out the innovation.
Informational Would like to know more about
SEL and how to promote it.
Introductory information about
specific program goals,
requirements, and time lines.
Preparation Are preparing to use a new SEL
idea or process.
Personal Are considering using (or not
using) SEL and are grappling
with the impact that this
decision will have on their work
and on themselves.
Concrete information on what the
innovation will look like, what
materials they will use, and how
to prepare themselves to take the
first steps in getting started.
Mechanical use Focus on short-term, day-to-day
use, mastering the specific
tasks and techniques they must
carry out.
Management Are concerned about their
ability to handle the logistics of
the program implementation.
Support and troubleshooting for
implementation (e.g., observing
other teachers, additional
consultation/supervision, e-mail
contact with experts, peer-group
meetings to share and learn).
Routine Have established use of the
innovation; regular patterns of
implementation predominate
and few changes are made in
ongoing use.
Consequences
(I )
Wonder about the impact that
their efforts are having on their
students.
Praise and recognition for what
they are doing; assistance in
making implementation easier or
better and assessing outcomes.
Refinement Fine-tune SEL efforts based on
feedback from consumers/clients
and from their own experience.
Consequences
(II )
Consider how to maximize
program effectiveness and
improve delivery.
Support and reinforcement for
innovation while maintaining the
core aspects of the plan.
Integration Begin to step back and look at
the big picture of the SEL work
they are doing; they focus on
how to combine their own
efforts with those of colleagues.
Collaboration Recognize that impact can be
maximized by coordinating
efforts with others and
continuity over time.
Support for naturally occurring
interactions and collaborations;
planned contexts in which
cooperation can occur.
Renewal Reevaluate practice in light of
factors such as changes in
population, student needs,
staffing patterns, freshness/
relevance of materials.
Refocusing Begin to supplement and
enhance the intervention based
on their own experience.
Opportunities for staff to share
and discuss desirable,
coordinated changes in the
schools SEL efforts.
Source: Based on Taking Charge of Change, by S. M. Hord, W. L. Rutherford, L. Huling-Austin, and G. E. Hall, 1987, Alexandria, VA: Associa-
tion for Supervision and Curriculum Development; and Building Learning Communities with Character: How to Integrate Academic, Social and
Emotional Learning, by B. Novick, J. S. Kress, and M. J. Elias, 2002, Alexandria, VA: Association for Supervision and Curriculum Development.
1
The prehistory also involves the process by which the inno-
vation was brought to the setting. Who initiated the effort:
was it top-down from the principal, grassroots from the
teachers, or some combination of the two? What program op-
tions were explored? These factors are important, but be-
cause they precede the onset of programming, they will not be
a focus of this chapter.
in terms of such areas as staff collaboration and morale.
1
Does the school have a history of revolving-door innova-
tions that might impact how seriously staff regard yet
another new program? Do staff tend to work together
proactively to address concerns in the school, or does in-
dividual griping predominate? The answers to such ques-
tions will impact the trajectory of any programmatic
efforts in a setting.
Early use stages are introductions or initiations of a
new program into a setting, corresponding to the orien-
tation, preparation, and mechanical use levels in Table
15.2. The goals and rationale of a program are intro-
duced, and implementers are oriented to why such a pro-
gram is important to the life of the school. Initiation
progresses to include planning to take, and then actually
embarking on, the first steps in implementing the pro-
Developmental Arenas in Social-Emotional Learning Program Implementation 599
gram. For SEL programming, introduction and initiation
is a time when implementers consider the importance of
SEL skills, the difficulties with deficits in such skills,
and basic tenets of best practices for promoting SEL
skills. Further, they are learning the nuts and bolts of
implementing the specific program being brought to the
school (e.g., Are there lessons to learn? Materials to
use?) and planning how to incorporate new activities
into existing class structures (e.g., When will the les-
sons be delivered?).
Once a degree of implementation mastery is
achieved through repeated mechanical use, initiation
gives way to regularity of programming efforts within a
school. Such a routine level of use involves fairly consis-
tent patterns of programming with few changes being
made. As implementers gain increased fluency with the
program and begin to notice subtleties such as differen-
tial impact on various students (e.g., based on gender,
developmental level, special needs classification) and
their own implementation style (e.g., comfort or lack
thereof with various programmatic aspects), they may
attempt to refine their efforts in light of their experi-
ences and observations.
As staff members become regular users, the program
moves toward institutionalization within a setting. The
program becomes part of the standard operating proce-
dure of a setting. A visitor would be unable to distin-
guish the institutionalized program from any other
long-standing initiative. Many of the functions once
performed by an outside consultant are now owned by
the institution (Kress, Cimring, & Elias, 1997). New
roles might be created to maintain the program, and the
values and goals of the program may be reflected in the
rituals and ceremonies of the school.
The institutionalization phase, like the routine use
phase before it, is not static. Just as routine use is
marked by refinement, institutionalization is marked by
integration and renewal. The former term refers to the
growing realization by implementers that their individ-
ual efforts will be enhanced to the extent to which they
support one another and their efforts are carried through
over time. The focus of programmatic efforts shifts
from isolated classrooms to coordination among faculty
members at and across grade levels and/or disciplines.
As the overall quality and consistency of implementa-
tion continues to progress, implementers will be inter-
ested in renewing their efforts in light of contextually
based changes. Student populations change, staff
turnover occurs, new mandates are mandated, and new
materials materialize. Programmatic response to such
changes can be seen in a Piagetian light: Changes may
be assimilated into existing program structures, or the
program accommodates to new realities.
A curriculum-based and problem-solving oriented
program such as Interpersonal Cognitive Problem Solv-
ing (ICPS) (Shure & Spivack, 1988), Open Circle (Sei-
gle, 2001), and SDM/SPS (Elias & Bruene-Butler,
2005a, 2005b, 2005c) is typically introduced in a half-
day awareness workshop that shows staff the framework
of the program, the key skills, and the problem-solving
steps that are embodied in their lessons. Preparation in-
volves another level of training, for at least an entire day,
in which specific curriculum materials are presented to
staff. What follows next is mechanical use, whereby
teachers typically follow the curriculum lessons pretty
much as presented in the curriculum but are not overly
concerned if they miss an occasional lesson. There is not
much flexibility and little spontaneous use of the cur-
riculum in noninstructional time. Use is considered rou-
tine once there is an understanding of the importance of
regular use if the program is to have an impact on stu-
dents. Refinement is the next logical level; this is where
problem-solving procedures might be modified to make
them more clearly remembered or applied by particular
students, or whole-class activities are recast into small
groups (or vice versa) in an attempt to have a greater
impact on students who do not seem to be grasping the
skills based on standard presentation. Integration oc-
curs when problem-solving skills are applied not only
to social situations, but to academics, such as literature
and social studies, and to the discipline system in
the form of problem-solving worksheets to help students
think through rule infractions and plan better ways
to handle troubling situations when they occur in the
future. Finally, after perhaps 2 to 3 years, these pro-
grams can be at the renewal level of use as the need to
modify procedures and supplement materials is evalu-
ated in light of the impact of the curriculum. For exam-
ple, procedures from the Responsive Classroom program
(www.responsiveclassroom.org) that focus on morning
meetings, establishing rules, and building a positive
sense of community often provide a valuable adjunct to
Open Circle and SDM/SPS; self-control techniques
from Second Step (www.cfc.org) have been used to bol-
ster readiness skills for problem solving in ICPS. These
modifications then go through their own levels of use
process, albeit usually at a much quicker pace than
shown by the original curriculum.
These trends can be considered developmental in that
earlier stages of implementation are seen as enabling
600 School-Based Social and Emotional Learning Programs
later stages to occur. As in individual developmental the-
ories, not all stages are achieved at the same speed (nor by
all the implementers in any given setting at the same
time), nor will any given setting (or its individual imple-
menters) make their way fully to the last stage. Finally,
there is a cyclical nature to the process, as modifications
that are made during later phases might need to be initi-
ated in a process similar to introducing a new program.
Developmental Arena 2:
The Program Implementers
The stage-wise progress of implementing programmatic
change on a systemic level has parallels in terms of
learning, behavioral change, and innovation adaptation
on the part of the implementers of any SEL program.
This progression can be framed in terms of Prochaska
and DiClementes (1984) transtheoretical model of be-
havior change (cf. Edwards, Jumper-Thuman, Plested,
Oetting, & Swanson, 2000). In their model, individual
readiness is described as an underlying factor in moving
through stages of change, beginning with limited aware-
ness of the problem and lack of motivation to change,
and progressing through increases in both. With regard
to SEL programming, various adult learning needs may
emerge as implementers move from initial exposure to
the intervention to preliminary inroads in its use to
eventual regular usage.
Novick et al. (2002) have discussed a progression of
levels of concern, or adult learner-implementer needs,
based on Hord, Rutherford, Huling-Austin, and Hall
(1987), that emerge as implementers move through the
process of implementing an SEL program. As summa-
rized in Table 15.2, these concerns and needs corre-
spond to the levels of use discussed previously. In
summary, these levels begin at a limited awareness of
the issue of SEL and low motivation to implement SEL
programming. As staff become more aware of the im-
portance of SEL, and their own role in addressing SEL
skills, basic how to issues come to the fore. Once im-
plementers have achieved a degree of mastery of the
basics of implementation, needs begin to focus on im-
proving, supporting, and innovating practice.
These levels of concern point out the interplay be-
tween the progress of program implementation and im-
plementers needs to have certain concerns addressed.
A consultant must be aware of the particular concerns
at any given time and be ready to help see that they are
addressed. At some levels, for example, at the informa-
tion level, learners needs may be filled by a direct in-
tervention on the part of the consultant (in this case,
providing more information). Other levels, for example,
collaboration, may require a more systemic approach to
create the kind of learning communities that would
meet some implementers concerns.
Factors Impacting Initiation into
the Implementation Process
Embedded in this discussion is an understanding that the
developmental needs of the adult learner-implementers
are sensitive to social and emotional factors. At the early
levels of concern, for example, beliefs and attitudes
will be important in the progression toward initial steps
of implementation. Specifically, the beliefs and attitudes
held by the implementers regarding the origins of
social and emotional skills and the best way to build such
skills will impact the degree of motivation to implement
any SEL program. Incompatibility between the consul-
tants and implementers framing of a target problem can
result in the latter group rejecting the program being
promoted by the former (Everhart & Wandersman,
2000). Teachers who believe that social and emotional
skills are part of a students immutable genetic makeup
will be unlikely to show support for a program based
on a social learning model of social and emotional skill
development.
Perceptions regarding the importance of deficits in
SEL skills and ones responsibility for addressing them
may have an impact on implementation, as well. For ex-
ample, in a study of an antibullying program, degree of
implementation was predicted by perceptions held by
teachers regarding the extent of bullying behaviors in
their school and teachers assessment of the importance
of their role in stemming the problem (Kallestad &
Olweus, 2003). Thorsen-Spano (1996) found that ele-
mentary school teachers with a favorable attitude toward
conflict resolution report a higher level of implementa-
tion of a conflict resolution program in their class
than do those who report a less favorable attitude.
Teachers who do not see SEL skills as a problem (and
therefore, If it aint broke, dont fix it ), or who see
them as a concern but not their concern (SEL is for the
parents/school psychologist /and so on to deal with, not
me) will be unlikely to embrace an SEL program. A
consultant must work to gauge the attitudes and feelings
of the implementers both around the social-emotional
climate of the school and about the implementation as it
unfolds (Novick et al., 2002).
Developmental Arenas in Social-Emotional Learning Program Implementation 601
Factors Impacting Movement toward
Regular Use
Implementers must possess a sense of their own ability
to successfully carry out an SEL program. That is, a
teacher might believe in the premise of the SEL program
but have concerns about how he or she will handle
factors such as classroom management during program
sessions or finding time to implement an additional ini-
tiative (e.g., Ghaith & Yaghi, 1997). Such concerns can
derail the efforts of the implementer to progress toward
regular program use. Although teachers will enter the
implementation process with a level of implementation
self-efficacy, this factor will also be sensitive to iatro-
genic effects. The relative success or failure of initial
implementation efforts will have an impact on willing-
ness to regularize programming. As such, Elias et al.
(1997) have stressed the importance of small wins
early on in creating positive momentum.
Growth in skill development will be enhanced by the
extent to which individual efforts are given an opportu-
nity to intersect with the efforts of others who are also
involved in the process, thereby creating a community of
learner-implementers. Such efforts can enhance rela-
tionships, facilitate contextually relevant modifications,
and foster understanding of the role of school culture in
program implementation (Nastasi, 2002, p. 222).
Factors Important during Institutionalization
Finally, in considering the development of the imple-
menters qua implementers, it is important to keep in
mind parallel developmental processes. Program imple-
mentation may be related to an educators experience
level. For example, following a staff development pro-
gram on cooperative learning, experience was negatively
correlated with reported attitudes toward implementa-
tion (Ghaith & Yaghi, 1997). Also, as discussed by Ever-
hart and Wandersman (2000), adults in an Eriksonian
generativity stage may find it more exciting to modify
the existing program or to try something new than to
maintain implementation as is. Staff turnover ensures
that any ongoing implementation cohort includes both
those experienced with as well as new to any interven-
tion. As such, a consultant must be careful not to general-
ize regarding the implementation-developmental level of
any group of consultees. Newly hired teachers likely
being at a less advanced level of concern (after all, they
may enter the school with little or no familiarity with the
SEL program being used). Further, teachers new to a set-
ting have these concerns play out in a social and emo-
tional context different from that of the cohort with
whom the innovation was introduced (Elias, Zins, Green-
berg, Graczyk, & Weissberg, 2003). When first intro-
duced to a program, implementers often have a cohort of
colearners who are facing the same excitement, anxi-
eties, and so on related to the program, and can support
one another through the process. A new teacher, already
needing to gain entry to a new workplace, may be the
only one, or one of an isolated few, going through these
initial awkward baby steps.
Developmental Arena 3: The Social-Emotional
Learning Intervention
Another factor that operates in interplay with others in
developmental progression is the nature of the interven-
tion. At its inception, an intervention should be limited,
tangible, and scripted. This allows it to incorporate
complexity but not require full understanding on the
part of implementers to carry it out. As long as its prin-
ciples and procedures are clearly laid out in training and
follow-up materials in ways that allow emulation, the
implementer will be able to get a feel for what it is like
to carry it out. As in the sensorimotor period of infancy,
learning occurs without being accompanied by full un-
derstanding. Also, the intervention is not experienced as
a flow or systematic sequence, but as a set of discrete
events. Yet, operational knowledge sufficient to manage
in the world in a rudimentary way is present.
From Discrete Intervention to Establishing a Flow
Feedback during this initial period of use is followed by
the intervention being carried out for a full year or cycle
(e.g., some interventions are designed for a set period of
weeks or months, others go for a full academic year). It
is at this point that the flow of an intervention is estab-
lished and those implementing it can make realistic and
comprehensive preparations for carrying it out. Among
these plans are how to connect the intervention to other
programs and services in the school and other experi-
ences that the child has either in preparation or follow-
up to the intervention. For example, in SDM/SPS, a first
year of teaching students problem-solving skills led to a
decision to provide them with readiness skills in 1 to 2
prior years, and then application opportunities to allow
integration of problem-solving skills into academic sub-
ject areas in subsequent years.
602 School-Based Social and Emotional Learning Programs
Integration in the Culture and Climate of
Classrooms and Schools
These expansions also go through the process of devel-
opment, as noted earlier. In addition, within the class-
room, an SEL intervention becomes integrated with
classroom managementit becomes the umbrella under
which related efforts are organized. At this point, the
integration might not be clearly visible as such; it has
become part of the culture and climate of the class. In
Heinz Werners (1957) terminology, the process of dif-
ferentiation and integration takes a decisive turn toward
the latter.
Yet, the process is not over. Interventions that oper-
ate only at the classroom level are still limited in their
impact on the student body. The next part of the devel-
opment of an intervention involves its principles being
extracted and applied into building-wide SEL/SPS ef-
forts. This includes such important areas as the overall
school climate and the discipline and positive recogni-
tion systems used. Among the components one is likely
to see that denote this process are administrator train-
ing and the training of bus drivers and lunch aides in
intervention-linked techniques. Other indicators are an
SDM/SPS Lab, Keep Calm Force (a schoolwide, peer-
led self-control and problem-solving program), bulletin
boards denoting application of intervention principles
to everyday interactions and situations and academic
content areas, positive recognition systems, and em-
phases on positive citizenship in and out of the school.
In other words, the intervention tends to expand and be-
come more comprehensive.
A Spiraling Process of 3 to 5 Years
At the same time, it becomes a bit harder to bring new
people on board into this process because of turnover,
changes in the target populations, and changes in the de-
velopment of the adult learners. Sarason (1996) and oth-
ers (e.g., Elias, 1997) suggest that it takes 3 to 5 years to
proceed from the inception of a pilot intervention to its
spreading systematically within an entire school build-
ing. To understand this process most accurately, it is
best to think of it as a developmental trajectory that is
less linear and perhaps more like a spiral in nature.
Developmental Arena 4: The Consultant
There are two aspects of the development of consultants
that are of particular relevance. First, consultants gain
experience over time, and thus develop expertise and so-
phistication. However, there is a second aspect of devel-
opment. Over time, consultants are called on to handle
more and more advanced stages of the intervention pro-
cess. Schools call on consultants at different stages in
the process of bringing in programs. The stages are:
1. Awareness
2. Training to begin
3. Ongoing consultation/support
4. Leadership team/administrator training
5. Program evaluation (including implementation moni-
toring, consumer feedback)
6. Intervention development and expansion
7. Contextual integration
Each stage brings its own nuances and requires con-
sultants to have certain knowledge, skills, and perspec-
tives. What happens almost inevitably, especially to
effective consultants, is that they are called on to shep-
herd an SEL program through its various stages in a par-
ticular school or district over time. Ready or not, the
consultant will have to develop the understandings and
skills needed to deal with what is in essence a transfor-
mational process. Complexities abound, however, in that
consultants might be working at different stages of pro-
grams at the same time in different settings, and some-
times they are called in to work at different stages, rather
than following the developmental progression of stages
during a single consultation.
1. Awareness
At this stage, consultants have the task of introducing an
SEL program to potential adopters. This is best under-
stood as marketing the intervention. Typically, the con-
sultant has a limited time period, from 45 minutes to 3
hours, to introduce the intervention to a group that can
be homogeneous (from one grade level), heterogeneous
(from all elementary grades, or even K12), to a mix
(from the same school, but all different grade levels).
The recipients may well be informed about the interven-
tion, but it is more likely that they will not be, other than
knowing the title or topic of the presentation and per-
haps a synopsis. Rare indeed is the situation in which
staff members will read an article in advance of an
awareness training. Thus, the mind-set of the consultant
must be one of reducing complexity, eschewing compre-
hensiveness, and maximizing entertainment /engagement
as part of the workshop/presentation experience.
Developmental Arenas in Social-Emotional Learning Program Implementation 603
2. Training to Begin
If an awareness session goes well, the consultant may be
called on to conduct a training with staff to get them
started with the intervention. Several pragmatic factors
influence the specific nature of the training, such as
when during the school year it takes place (e.g., fall,
early in the calendar year, May/June, summer, just prior
to the start of school), the length of time (2 hours, a full
day), the number and nature of staff people attending,
and the extent to which the training is voluntary or
mandatory (no, it is not incongruous to refer to degrees
of mandatory, or even voluntary, attendance). Because
the agenda of the consultant is to encourage trainees to
begin and persist, whereas the main focus of the
trainees is simply to begin in a sound, comfortable, ef-
fective way, another concern is the plan and resource al-
location to follow up the training. One need not be a
veteran consultant to recognize the inherent difficulties
of conducting trainings in May/June or early or midsum-
mer. Again, the consultant must balance how much to
present the full year-long context of the program versus
focusing on a segment but going into it in sufficient
depth to allow trainees to begin to implement with con-
fidence. Even in a full-day training, unless the groups
are highly homogeneous and well prepared, it is difficult
for consultants to give trainees a good feel for how the
intervention looks and feels over the course of a school
year and also have time to impart the skills and practice
needed so that initial implementation goes well. A fur-
ther consideration is the definition of begin. How far
along in the program should the consultant focus the ini-
tial training? In preparing staff from a single grade level
from 10 elementary schools in an urban district for a 2-
hour workshop, one consultant decided to focus on the
generic structure of the lessons and then the first two
lessons (out of 22 planned for the school year). Given
how long it took staff from 10 buildings to arrive at a
single location, functional instructional time was closer
to 75 minutes. (Note that the decision about whether to
start on time but then have perhaps 50% of the trainees
come in while the training is in progress, versus waiting,
is a vexing one that beginning consultants often do not
anticipate.) Even in a generally positive and receptive
climate, completing the two-session focus was a chal-
lenge under these circumstances.
It is useful to point out some developmental consider-
ations here. The consultant is being asked to coordinate
cognition, emotion, and behavior between the groups of
trainees and the tasks for which they are being prepared.
The ability of the consultant to do this effectively in-
creases with experience, reflection, and supervision.
Some issues, such as how to address late arrivals, can be
thought through in advance with the proper guidance; so
can the issue of how to deal with absentees.
Werners (1957) principle of differentiation and inte-
gration is relevant here as well. To do an awareness
training, the amount of differentiation the consultant
deals with is minimal. Deciding on what to emphasize,
the consultant then must think of how to integrate these
disparate elements so that he or she can have an inte-
grated approach and the trainees can perceive their ex-
perience in an integrative, rather than scattered or
disconnected, way. During a training to begin (as would
occur at initial stages of implementation), the consultant
has more to differentiate, but still not the full context of
a year-long program. Integration usually needs to take
place around the concept of What do I do on Monday,
and then the next Monday? assuming that the cogni-
tions, emotions, and behavior of trainees must be coor-
dinated around these primary concerns.
3. Ongoing Consultation/Support
If there is an agreement to continue working with the
consultant after the initial training, the consultants at-
tention must turn to how to support staff in implement-
ing the program. Various studies converge to suggest
that this is a pivotal point in the process for both psycho-
logical and pragmatic reasons (Diebolt, Miller, Gen-
sheimer, Mondschein, & Ohmart, 2000; Gager & Elias,
1997; Greenberg & Kusch, 1988). The latter is self-
evident. People want to be successful and comfortable
taking on new tasks and would like to have questions an-
swered before and after the initial session and receive
feedback or support in preparation for the next one. The
former has to do with the question of the school admin-
istrations commitment to the program teachers are
being asked to carry out. Teachers want to know that
they are not being asked to invest their time in a fad, or
in a 1-year, short-lived, tangential intervention. No
amount of verbal assurance is a substitute for tangible
support. The consultant, then, needs skills in providing
supportive consultation and feedback (a skill set that is
more interactive and differentiated than doing a frontal
group training) and needs to have the ability and per-
spective to negotiate a system or framework for that
consultation to take place. Often, external consultants
are constrained in being able to have the time and flexi-
bility to observe and meet with teachers over the course
604 School-Based Social and Emotional Learning Programs
of a school year. Therefore, some procedure for develop-
ing local expertise must be developed. (Note that expe-
rienced consultants will often want to create initial
agreements that include not only the awareness and ini-
tial trainings, but also the work that the consultant will
do to help develop and sustain a system of ongoing con-
sultation, support, and training.) This brings the consul-
tant into the arena of administrative consultation and
requires an understanding of district goals and policies,
procedures and practices for staff development, staff
schedules, and supervisory practices and methods of
compensation.
4. Leadership Team/Administrator Training
It is one thing to have the administration agree to allow
some staff members to serve in supervisory/coaching
roles, and another for the administration to take owner-
ship of the direction and operation of the program. Setting
up an SEL or program-based leadership team is another
pivotal task for consultants. To do this effectively re-
quires consultants to understand well the roles of school
administrators, social workers, guidance counselors,
school psychologists, health educators, and character edu-
cation and substance abuse and violence/ bullying preven-
tion coordinators. Should there be student-family support
staff or any position with responsibility as a liaison to
parents and the community, that persons input is also im-
portant because one of the purviews of the leadership
team is funding. Consultants must know these roles be-
cause roles that might be assigned must be congruent with
existing duties and patterns of availability. Designing and
implementing a training for this group requires that the
consultant find a way to concisely convey the key ele-
ments of the program, its pedagogy, and the expected im-
plementation time line and structure. In addition,
attendees should be exposed to basic principles of sup-
portive, constructive supervisory feedback to teachers.
And there is yet another level of concern: The leadership
team will assume responsibility for program planning
and evaluation, and so training in this process and the
tasks involved must be provided. As before, the consultant
must deal with logistical constraints (such as number and
length of sessions and expectations about attendance
and absence) and the attitude of staff toward the program
and its implementation (Gager & Elias, 1997).
What begins to happen at this stage is that consul-
tants are being asked to switch cognitive, emotional, and
behavior gears in an increasingly disparate context. It is
one thing to work with multiple schools or districts
within the same or adjacent stages; that provides great
variation and challenge for the consultant to keep
straight. But it is another to shift back and forth between
the awareness level, which eschews detail, and the ongo-
ing consultation and support levels, which require it.
Many consultants flounder as they experience difficulty
inadvertently increasing the complexity of their aware-
ness or initial trainings or, less often, oversimplifying
their ongoing consultation and related work in the name
of getting easy acceptance. Commins and Elias (1991)
showed that such simplification is associated with re-
duced program longevity in schools, whereas presenting
programs at an appropriate and realistic ( but not exces-
sive) level of complexity is associated with longer pro-
gram endurance.
5. and 6. Program Evaluation (Including
Implementation Monitoring, Consumer Feedback)
and Intervention Development and Expansion
Whereas some level of accountability is a constant con-
cern at every stage of consultancy (including the process
by which the consultant monitors and evaluates his or
her own efforts), systematic program evaluation efforts
usually emerge once a leadership team, social develop-
ment committee, or similar structure is established
(Elias et al., 1997). Program evaluation is deceptively
complicated, and consultants who are not trained in this
area will find themselves needing to build their expertise
or bring on consultative assistance. The first challenge is
to find ways of monitoring what is actually happening
with the program: who is carrying out lessons, with what
frequency, and with what degree of fidelity. Without
knowing how the program is implemented, it is impossi-
ble to make any inferences about the relationship of the
program to any observed outcomes. Consumer feedback
is also important, because a program that teachers and
other school professionals do not like to implement and
that students do not enjoy receiving is unlikely to be car-
ried out in an effective and enduring way. This is not to
say that consumer satisfaction is a primary criterion, but
it is a necessary, though not sufficient, condition for
long-term program success.
Intervention development is the process of refining a
program based on feedback. Where something is not
working for a subgroup of students, modifications must
be made. This is not a simple process. Staff members
need to be involved for maximum buy-in, and those
modifying the program must know its key elements and
make changes that do not change the character of the
program (especially if it is an evidence-based program).
However, programs tend not to be static, and the most
Developmental Arenas in Social-Emotional Learning Program Implementation 605
recent view about program effectiveness is that pro-
grams must be multiyear in nature. True skill gain in
children is cumulative in nature, and so programs must
be carried out over multiple years (Weissberg & Green-
berg, 1998). If a given program has been created to op-
erate over multiple grade levels, then at least the
materials and structure are available for the consultant
to work with. Sometimes, however, a program exists
only through grade 3, or grade 5, and a school wants to
expand it to the next grade level. This will require a new
skill set for consultants and will take them into collabo-
rative relationships with teachers and perhaps program
developers. Thus, the consultant must develop new skills
related to curriculum/program content and be prepared
to serve not purely as a consultant but as a collaborator
in program development and expansion efforts.
7. Contextual Integration
Another recent insight about SEL programs is that they
need to be integrated into the structure, climate, and
organization of the classroom if they are to succeed
(CASEL, 2003). And if programs are to have an impact
on the school, they also must be integrated into the over-
all structure and climate of the school. Social and emo-
tional learning must become salient outside the classroom
and influence what happens in the hallways, lunchrooms,
bus rides, discipline procedures, and how everyone in the
school interacts with one another. Further, students bene-
fit most when SEL is continuous across schools.
None of this should be surprising because the points
are the same for academic skill acquisition. If reading
were to be limited to classroom lessons, not continued at
all grade levels, not carried out from school to school,
and, particularly important, not done with any consis-
tent approach across settings, children would be quite
impaired in their literacy development. If children do
not receive SEL across grade levels in a coherent and
high-quality manner, they may be at risk with regard to
developing the skills they need to maximally carry out
their responsibilities as adults. Consultants develop
from being focused on the delivery of a particular pro-
gram in one classroom to providing the array of supports
necessary to ensure that children develop substantial
SEL skills. An extended example of such development is
provided in the accompanying vignette.
Developmental Arena 5: The Child
The development of social and emotional competencies
has been extensively researched. The scope of the topic
and the various subcomponents of many of these compe-
tencies contribute to the amount of research done. For
example, emotional skills can be broken down into sub-
units, including identification of emotions in oneself
and others, the regulation of emotion, and the communi-
cationboth verbal and nonverbalof emotions. It is
not our intention to review this literature in its entirety.
Rather, we trace the trends in the social and emotional
expectations that can be held for students as they de-
velop and that can become curricular foci for school-
based intervention of the type described in this chapter.
A helpful rubric for organizing this complex literature
is provided by Elias et al. (1997), who trace trends in so-
cial and emotional development through different age
groups (early elementary, elementary/intermediate, mid-
dle school, high school) within various developmental
contexts (personal, peer/social, family, and school- and
community-related). This clustering of age groups not
only simplifies understanding of the developmental
trends, but also underscores the nondeterministic nature
of a childs specific age. Although trends exist, great
variability can be expected within any group of same-age
children. As readers encounter this review, they might
find themselves thinking, This doesnt describe the 8-,
or 10-, or 12-year-olds I know! This response is antici-
pated by the authors and is a by-product of the variability
within ages mentioned earlier. The approach we take here
is one of reviewing what students at this age generally
can do, especially with proper support from adults,
rather than what might be seen in any given interaction
or social situation. We take such an approach because the
focus of this chapter is on how developmental issues can
inform school-based programming. Such programming
strives to help students achieve the types of competen-
cies we describe here as reasonable expectations.
Early Elementary
In terms of the personal arena, early elementary stu-
dents are generally developing the ability to express and
manage basic emotions (such as fear, anger, excitement),
can differentiate between negative and positive emo-
tions, and can use increasingly complex language to ex-
press emotion. They are increasingly able to tolerate
frustration and delay gratification and to manage turn
taking, although these skills will be demonstrated
inconsistently. Although the preschooler begins to
use language to facilitate self-control and begins to en-
gage in cognitive planning in the service of frustration
tolerance, the ability to effectively and automatically
use these processes transpires primarily during the
606
One Consultants Developmental Journey
One of the authors (MJE) worked with an urban school district over a 7-year period, allowing for a journey through all
seven of the stages of consultant activity. This example is instructive because it also involves SDM/SPS. However, in the
focal school district, an urban, high-risk setting in central New Jersey with poor test score performance, SDM/SPS had
to be modified to be sensitive to the predominantly African American population and also the strong literacy needs of the
students. Thus, at the 2-hour awareness workshop, attended by teachers from grades 2 and 3 across 10 elementary
schools, an attempt was made to introduce SEL, introduce a specific curriculum program, Talking with TJ (Dilworth,
Mokrue, & Elias, 2002), show its appropriateness with regard to culture and literacy, and provide teachers with a practice
opportunity that would allow them to carry out an initial lesson. There was no additional opportunity to provide training
to begin. Teachers were expected to begin, and I, along with an African American graduate student assistant, provided
follow-up to teachers in all 10 schools. We did this by meeting with them during available slots between 2:35 and 3:05.
In the course of providing ongoing consultation and support, we became aware of how few teachers had a good feel for
the program and recognized that this would have to be accomplished without formal training. We recruited Rutgers under-
graduates, trained them in the curriculum, and sent them into many classrooms so that they could provide direct feedback
and assistance to teachers and help to convey their feel of the program. This helped make our ongoing consultation efforts
more useful. However, we also recognized the limitations of this approach over the long term. Thus, I turned my attention to
working with the superintendent of schools and a special assistant assigned to provide administrative support to the SEL ef-
fort to develop a leadership team and support structure. My consultation involved a level different from working with and
supporting teachers, which was continued by graduate and undergraduate students who had familiarity with the program
but not with working with administrators. The key need was to provide channels of communication from the teachers to the
Rutgers Social-Emotional Learning Lab team that was supporting the program, and also local building-based leadership in
bringing SEL across grade levels and into the school climate beyond its presence in curriculum lessons. Opportunities to ad-
dress the administrative cabinet were used to help principals understand the theory and pedagogy behind the program and
to appreciate the specific actions they needed to take to support teachers in their work (e.g., ask them to submit lesson plans
showing when they would implement the program, assist them in finding the time and context if they were having difficulty,
and provide feedback based on the lesson plans and direct observation when possible). Administrators also selected TJ
captains in each building; these were teachers who had the role of speaking with other teachers carrying out the program
and raising concerns proactively with members of the Rutgers team. So the consultation task shifted from working with all
teachers to working primarily with the TJ captains and occasionally working with teachers who needed special help.
Another consultation task was working with the building-based SEL coordinators. This involved helping them to see
ways to extend SEL to schoolwide efforts, such as positive recognition of students and creating school citizenship and
service activities, bulletin boards, plays focused on SEL themes, and literacy activities such as the Principals Book of
the Month. They also needed help communicating about SEL within their buildings, across buildings, and to parents.
There were other nuances of consultation not mentioned; for example, another diverse area was evaluation. Here, the
primary consultee was the school superintendent. He wanted ways to monitor the implementation of the program and its
outcome. Consultation required knowledge of formative and summative evaluation procedures, as well as how to convey
them in a practical manner and deal with the logistics of carrying out this assessment in an environment already saturated
by standardized tests. Consumer satisfaction surveys were put into place and completed by teachers and students. Teach-
ers also completed an assessment related to levels of use. Teachers rated students behavior on a standardized teacher rat-
ing scale, which was shortened and modified for use with urban, low-income minority populations (at the request of
teachers), and students completed measures of SEL skills, self-concept, social support, and school violence and victim-
ization. Clearly, this requires a very different kind of activity by a consultant than any previous stage.
As data from the program indicated positive receptivity and successful outcomes (Dilworth et al., 2002), there was a
desire on the part of the school district to develop and expand the intervention. The development included adding a char-
acter education component, the Laws of Life essay, to the skills-based Talking with TJ curriculum. The expansion was
creating a curriculum for grades 45 and then K1. These changes required work by the consultant to integrate Laws of
Life and Talking with TJ into the literacy curriculum. At the same time, the building-based SEL coordinators increased
their efforts to better connect the program with other elements of the school day to increase the impact on school climate.
For this to take place, the consultant needed to coordinate more with school principals and to grasp the big picture of how
SEL could unfold within the culture of each of the schools. Managing this diversity across 10 schools is challenging, as is
the need to continue the consultative cycle as each new component to the curriculum was added on.
Other skills that were required over the course of the 7 years included writing school board policy around SEL, deal-
ing with high staff turnover, and following up the program into the two middle schools and high school. In each case, new
areas of expertise were required, and sources of support and information had to be tapped for the consultant to effectively
meet these needs.
Developmental Arenas in Social-Emotional Learning Program Implementation 607
elementary school years (Greenberg & Snell, 1997,
p. 106). However, they still often employ behavioral,
rather than cognitive, strategies to deal with stressors
(Brenner & Salovey, 1997). Students at this level are be-
ginning to be able to consider the feelings and intentions
of others in a reflective, role-taking capacity, even
showing early signs of differentiating the feelings of dif-
ferent people in different contexts. They are becoming
able to generate alternative possibilities for action in in-
terpersonal situations.
Students at this age are learning basic skills that will
remain vital to peer functioning. They are developing
competencies in areas such as listening, sharing, coop-
erating, negotiating, and compromising. These students
understand similarities and differences between self
and others. They are able to demonstrate empathy to-
ward their peers and become distressed at the suffering
of others, and often respond by helping a child in need.
They are also learning about themselves, can express
themselves through artistic and dramatic representa-
tions, can express their likes and dislikes, and are learn-
ing about their own strengths. The ICPS, Second Step,
and Responsive Classroom Programs are especially
strong at this age level.
Middle Elementary
Students at a middle elementary level are moving ahead
in many of those competencies initially begun earlier.
Their repertoire of labels for emotions is expanding, and
they can generally be expected to exercise more control
over their anger. They can calm themselves down when
upset and verbalize how they are feeling and describe
what happened. They can learn strategies to cope with
strong emotional situations. They are developing more
positive ways to express their feelings. When they do
lose their temper or become upset, they can generally
calm themselves down, increasingly tending to use cog-
nitive as opposed to behavioral strategies to deal with
stressors, and they are forgiving regarding the situation.
From this age into the next cohort, students are develop-
ing repertoires of coping skills and learning to match
different strategies to different types of situations
(Brenner & Salovey, 1997).
Students at this grade level are making advances in
sociocognitive skills as well. They are increasingly able
to set goals and to continue to work toward these even in
the face of obstacles. Abilities to anticipate outcomes
and consequences of actions are improving. Students at
this level are becoming increasingly self-aware, particu-
larly regarding their own strengths and weaknesses and
those of others. They are learning not to be derailed by
failures. Skills in perspective taking continue to grow.
Social interactions at this level are more complex,
with cooperative planning and joint problem solving tak-
ing place. They are grappling with a set of social skills
such as making new friends and entering new and ex-
panded peer groups. They are accepting of diversity and
difference. They call on improved skills in being able to
manage a reciprocal conversation and judge and antici-
pate the thoughts, feelings, and actions of others. They
can modify their interactionsverbal and nonverbalto
suit different audiences (e.g., peers, teachers). With the
increased peer interactions come an increased awareness
of peer norms and sensitivity to pressures for conformity.
Also, students at this age are developing skills in as-
sertiveness, boundary setting, and dealing with rejection.
In school, students at this age are increasingly able to
work on teams and to see projects through to completion
and experience pride in a job well done. The skills em-
phasis of Providing Alternative Thinking Strategies
(PATHS; Greenberg & Kusch, 1998), SDM/SPS, and
Open Circle are especially well matched to this age level.
Middle School and Beyond
As we turn our attention to middle school, we find stu-
dents who are entering adolescence, with its attendant
social and behavioral changes. In terms of social and
emotional development, there are several trends that can
be traced. Students at this stage are increasingly self-
aware and, often, self-critical. Their sociocognitive
skills are making great strides. They are able to under-
stand multiple sides of arguments and disagreements.
They are sensitive to perceived social norms and often
judge their own abilities and self-worth by others reac-
tions to them. They can identify their own self-talk and
acknowledge its importance. Although they are increas-
ingly able to articulate goals, both long and short term,
it is often difficult for them to modify actions to come
into line with achieving these goals. As with those that
precede it, there is often a great disparity at this age
level between what one can do under structured condi-
tions and what one will do in actual situations.
Peer interactions are undertaken with a great sensi-
tivity to popular trends, but at the same time with in-
creasing introspective thoughtfulness and ability to
distinguish between good and bad friends. Belonging
becomes an important issue to students at this age, and
friends strive to develop ways to deal with conflict and
608 School-Based Social and Emotional Learning Programs
solve problems while maintaining friendships. Through-
out adolescence, students are gaining skills in peer
leadership.
As students progress into high school, perhaps the
most important theme is that of increasing integration
among the various developing social and emotional
skills under the broad umbrella of developing a stable
sense of identity and set of long-range goals.
During adolescence emotions noticeably become the basis
of identity and ideals. What adolescents care about is usu-
ally what they feel strongly aboutnot only feel intensely
but also feel variably. . . . Adolescents become aware of
feeling everything, and this transforms their values and
their understanding. (Haviland-Jones, Gebelt, and Stapely,
1997, p. 244245)
Adolescents become more interested in questions of
personal meaning, transcendence, and goals for per-
sonal accomplishment. Ones own decisions and behav-
iors, including those regarding friendships and peer
relations, school functioning, balancing independence
and interdependence within ones family, all become
crucial pieces in an ongoing process of self-definition.
Effective programs at the secondary level include
Lions-Quest, and especially their Skills for Action ser-
vice learning program (www.lions-quest.org), the Gi-
raffe Heroes Program (www.giraffe.org; Graham,
1999), Facing History and Ourselves (www.facing.org),
and the Resolving Conflict Creatively Program
(www.esrnational.org; DeJong, 1994).
Special Populations
This section began with a caveat that variability is the
norm in the development of social and emotional skills.
However, consultants must be aware that students with
clinical diagnoses or special educational classifications
will often show particular patterns of deficit in the
development of such skills. In fact, social and emotional
skills deficits are in many cases pathognomonic of clin-
ical diagnosis and a part of the defining feature of
educational classifications. For example, interpersonal
interactions marked by hostility, bullying, and cruelty
are among the diagnostic criteria of Conduct Disorder
(American Psychiatric Association, 2000). Anxiety and
depressive disorders clearly have affective symptoma-
tology as primary features.
Further, as we have discussed elsewhere, Children
with mild disabilities tend not to be accepted by their
peers, and they display shortcomings in the way they in-
teract with parents and peers (Elias, Blum, Gager,
Hunter, & Kress, 1998, p. 220). Children classified as
learning disabled face an array of social and emotional
challenges. For example, as reviewed by LaGreca (1981),
these students have more negative peer relations than
their nondisabled peers, receive more negative responses
from their peers, and are less adept at initiating help-
giving behaviors. The specific nature of a childs learn-
ing disability may impact the social and emotional
manifestations: For example, students with more severe
cognitive impairments may lack age-appropriate social
understanding of complex interactions. Language im-
paired students may have appropriate understanding of
social situations but may have difficulty communicating
effectively to others (Elias & Tobias, 1996, p. 124). As
reviewed by Elias et al. (1997, p. 65), children with a
variety of classifications, including learning disabled,
language disordered, with mild mental delays, neurologi-
cally disordered, and with hearing loss, often have
related difficulties in the areas of social and communica-
tive competence. They are more likely to show difficul-
ties in effectively reading social cues from others and
managing frustration and other high intensity emotions.
Students classified as emotionally disturbed could be
differentiated fromtheir nonclassified peers on the basis
of deficits in interpersonal problem solving (Elias, Gara,
Rothbaum, Reese, & Ubriaco, 1987). For emotionally
disturbed (ED) populations, the distinction between
skill deficits (i.e., mastery of social skills) and perfor-
mance deficits (i.e., lack of motivators to use skills that
are possessed) becomes particularly salient. In addition,
many ED students have incorporated previous negative
outcomes in social situations into a set of expectations
for continued difficulty and a negative self-image based
on such expectations (Elias & Tobias, 1996). Students
with a variety of classifications (including LD and ED)
show deficits in nonverbal aspects of emotional interac-
tions (see Kress & Elias, 1993, for a review).
Trends in the use of social and emotional skills have
been studied in various clinical child populations. For
example, depressed children and early adolescents were
found to be less likely than nondepressed peers to use
cognitive strategies for coping with negative mood
states and more likely to use negative behaviors to cope
in such situations (Brenner & Salovey, 1997). Research
suggests that children with conduct and aggression prob-
lems may misread ambiguous nonverbal cues and make
hostile attributions for the behaviors of others (Dodge,
Integration: The Gradient of Developmental Relevance 609
1980). Surprisingly, few programs have been developed
for special populations. Project OZ and the SDM/SPS
program (Elias & Bruene-Butler, 2005a, 2005b, 2005c)
are among those that have shown effectiveness in these
contexts. Work done by the authors with the SDM/SPS
program with a special needs population is highlighted
in the discussion later in this chapter.
In conclusion, a consultants attention to the area of
childrens development of social and emotional compe-
tence must be informed by both possibility and reality.
As discussed in this section, there are trends in what can
be expected from most students as they move through
the school years. However, there is considerable vari-
ability in any group and some more systematic deficits
found when dealing with clinical or classified subpopu-
lations. As programs are targeted to student needs, ef-
forts must build on strengths of, and address needs in,
individual students to move them ahead in their social
and emotional functioning. If this process is seen as a
social and emotional skill analogue to the Vygotskian
(1978) idea of the zone of proximal development, then
the consultant is left with the question of how an indi-
viduals environment (in this case, primarily but not
limited to the school environment) can facilitate skill
development and use.
INTEGRATION: THE GRADIENT OF
DEVELOPMENTAL RELEVANCE
The previous sections outlined several arenas that ex-
hibit developmental change over the course of implemen-
tation. Although these arenas are reviewed individually
and separately, it is our strong belief, grounded in our
experience as consultants, that these arenas can be better
understood as intersecting and existing in dynamic rela-
tionship. At any given point in the life of a programmatic
effort, a cross-sectional freeze-frame can be taken of
each of these arenas, but once the scene is allowed to
progress, changes in one arena will bring changes in oth-
ers. The dynamic nature of these interactions often
makes it difficult to state where an evolution of these
arenas begins, which is the cause and which is the effect.
As a matter of practice, the beginning of a consulta-
tion/intervention program defines the starting point
along all of the dimensions, though the starting point is
not necessarily at the beginning of the dimension. As an
example, in the 2nd year of an intervention, the original
group of students typically will be in the next grade
level. The faculty who implemented in the 1st year will
now have a year of experience under their belts and
will face a new group of students. However, new faculty
will not be at that same point. Thus, the experience of
the faculty, their need for consultation, and the experi-
ence of the students (as well as the impact of the pro-
gram) will be different. If we look ahead to the
following year, teachers in the next grade will find stu-
dents coming in with greater variability than they expe-
rienced after the 1st year of the intervention. This is
something for which they need to be prepared and for
which consultation will have to take place. The situation
is further complicated if the intervention is followed up
in the next grade level. To what extent will the consul-
tant be prepared to deal with these issues? They will re-
quire considerable flexibility, as well as deep knowledge
of the intervention to allow for changes to be made that
optimize what particular teachers can do. These new
needs and the new perception of needs may necessitate a
change in the original programmatic focus. To support
this, a consultant may need to plan for increased training
and support for a program that had been running with
less oversight.
The picture is beyond one of intersecting lines, and
more of interdependent forces. That is, although it is the
case that any temporal cross section will reveal various
points in each of the developmental trajectories, paths of
any one arena will influence all the others. The scenario
depends on where one starts the story, but in reality the
arenas exist in dynamic interrelationship. As the pro-
gram moves along, staff concerns will change, the needs
of the students will change ( based on natural factors and
on the impact of the program), and the staff s percep-
tions of the students and their actions and needs might
change. To make appropriate consultative decisions, a
consultant must be able to judge options against where
each arena is in its development. We use the term gra-
dient of developmental relevance to refer to the condi-
tions created by the interacting developmental needs of
the various arenas. New information, decisions, proce-
dures, and so on can be evaluated against the gradient of
developmental relevance to assess where they fit within
this ever-evolving system.
An apt analogy might be to the leader of an improvi-
sational jazz band.
2
Each developmental arena can be
seen as a band member, playing a particular improvised
2
We are honored to continue Jim Kellys line of jazz analo-
gies applied to community psychology concepts!
610 School-Based Social and Emotional Learning Programs
line of music. Just as a bandleader might go in with a
certain set of parameters in minda particular tempo
or keythe consultant may be guided by research on ef-
fective practice (e.g., Elias et al., 1997). The consultant
(who, in most cases, embodies all of the band members
and has to serve as the conductor) has to work in a dy-
namic way, without a script, often by feel, to keep the
instrumentation moving forward in a harmonious way.
There is a framework for guiding the leaders decisions,
but there is not note-for-note scripting. It remains up to
the consultant to make it all come together. A consultant
with an understanding of trends in each of the develop-
mental spheres has the same advantage as a leader of a
well-rehearsed (rather than a newly formed) jazz group.
Although each member works on his or her own, the
leader has come to know about the style and tendencies
of each and can anticipate possible next moves (though
there is always room for surprise). Likewise, knowing
developmental trends allows the consultant to apply ad-
ditional structure to decision making, while still re-
maining flexible enough to handle what is essentially a
constantly shifting set of contextual realities.
DEVELOPMENTAL SNAPSHOTS
Our developmental snapshots are pulled from work at
The Childrens Institute (TCI ), a private, nonprofit,
out-of-district school for students ranging in age from 3
to 16. The school was founded in 1963 and is divided
into preschool, elementary, and middle school levels.
The school receives out-of-district placements from a
broad area throughout northern and central New Jersey,
with over 40 different districts represented. As such, the
school population is quite diverse in terms of both so-
cioeconomic status and ethnicity, although male stu-
dents constitute a majority (90%) of the enrollment.
Students are referred to TCI with one of three classifi-
cations: preschool handicapped, emotionally disturbed,
and autistic.
Students at TCI receive instruction in all academic
areas and, in addition, receive therapeutic services.
These services are provided by two specialty areas. Cri-
sis workers provide a frontline intervention for students
exhibiting an acute behavior that can no longer be ac-
commodated in the classroom. The model, at least early
on in the chronology of the program, was for crisis
workers to be called in an emergency and to remove the
indicated student from the classroom until the crisis de-
escalated. The second line of therapeutic intervention
was provided by social workers. In contrast to crisis
workers, social workers saw children on an ongoing,
scheduled basis. The social workers are the object of
our first snapshot, and more will be said about them in
the next section.
Although a school focusing on students with emo-
tional disorders can be seen as addressing social and
emotional needs on an ongoing basis, formal implemen-
tation of SEL programming began in 1989, with the im-
plementation of the SDM/SPS program. SDM/SPS was
created in 1979 through collaborative efforts among
psychologists and educators from Rutgers University,
the University of Medicine and Dentistry of New Jersey,
and school districts in New Jersey. Over the years, cur-
riculum guides have been developed for the elementary
and middle school grades (Elias & Bruene-Butler,
2005a, 2205b, 2005c; Elias & Tobias, 1996). Books
written specifically for parents helps carry-over of
school-based programming (Elias, Tobias, & Friedlan-
der, 2000, 2002). The program is implemented in the
classroom by teachers (or other staff ) who are trained to
deliver the program. The program has undergone exten-
sive research (Bruene-Butler, Hampson, Elias, Clabby,
& Schuyler, 1997) and has received commendation from
the National Education Goals Panel, the U.S. Depart-
ment of Educations Expert Panel on Safe and Drug Free
Schools, the Character Education Partnership, and the
Collaborative for Academic, Social, and Emotional
Learning (CASEL, 2003).
The general structure of the program is shown in
Table 15.3. SDM/SPS can be broken down into three
phases: readiness, instruction, and application. The
readiness skills cover the fundamental components of
self-control and social awareness/group participation.
This part of the curriculum got its name from the idea
that these skills are essential building blocks, or needed
tools, for proper decision making. Lacking self-control
and social awareness, we are unlikely to engage in pro-
ductive problem solving and are subject to emotional
hijacking (Goleman, 1995), which derails rational
thought during high-threat situations. Table 15.3 shows
the skills covered in the readiness phase. A major focus
of the readiness phase has to do with setting the stage
for effective conflict management and fostering self-
discipline and socially responsible behavior even in the
face of situations that might tax such positive outcomes.
To begin to address these issues, teachers introduce an
interconnected set of skills in conflict resolution and
Developmental Snapshots 611
TABLE 15.3 Basic Structure of the Social
Decision Making Approach
Readiness Skills
A. Self-control skills:
1. Listening carefully and accurately.
2. Following directions.
3. Calming oneself when upset or under stress.
4. Approaching and talking to others in a socially appropriate
manner.
B. Social awareness and group participation skills:
1. Recognizing and eliciting trust , help, and praise from others.
2. Understanding others perspectives.
3. Choosing friends wisely.
4. Participating appropriately in groups.
5. Giving and receiving help and criticism.
Skills for Decision Making and Problem Solving
1. Finding feelings for yourself and others.
2. Identifying issues or problems.
3. Generating goals to guide your decision.
4. Thinking of alternative solutions.
5. Envisioning possible consequences.
6. Selecting the best solution.
7. Planning and making a final check for obstacles.
8. Noticing what happened and using the information for future
decision making and problem solving.
anger management. In introducing this set of skills, a
teacher may lead a discussion of the importance of being
able to stay calm in stressful situations (e.g., by asking
the students to share experiences where they had diffi-
culty calming down and the consequences of that). The
teacher may have students discuss situations when it is
particularly difficult for them to stay calm (trigger
situations), and internal feelings fingerprints that
signal stress. Keeping calm is broken down into com-
ponent skills, which are demonstrated and practiced,
with feedback given to the students as they practice.
The teacher often has students role-play use of skills as
they are introduced. Particularly important, the phrase
Keep Calm is established as a prompt and cue for the
desired behavior. This behavioral shorthand can be used
by the teacher and other staff members throughout the
school to call for the skill when needed. Students may be
prompted to Keep Calm during difficult times such as
transitions or before exams. Teachers can model use of
Keep Calm during situations where they might be feel-
ing particularly stressed. As students become adept at
using Keep Calm, the teacher can ask students to share
situations in which they used Keep Calm in class or at
recess. Aides and other staff can prompt students to use
the skill as needed.
In the instructional phase of the curriculum, students
are introduced to eight skills of decision making, as
summarized in Table 15.3. The acronym FIG TESPN
can be used as a mnemonic to assist students in remem-
bering the process. Notably, the first step focuses on
feelings. Emotions are seen as important guides through
the problem-solving process. The eight decision-making
skills are taught directly and through the use of a guided
facilitative questioning technique to help students move
through the process.
Comprehensive programming involves infusion of
SEL skills into all aspects of the educational experi-
ence. Application activities provide opportunities to
practice new skills in academic and social situations.
Once introduced, SDM/SPS skills can be applied to con-
tent areas. A teacher may use the terminology of prob-
lem solving to analyze a situation in a story (What was
the character feeling? What was the problem?) or to
make a decision about how a student will present mate-
rial from a research project. Students can be prompted
to use SDM/SPS skills in real-life situations such as re-
cess and lunch, and then this experience can be
processed with them.
Implementation of SDM/SPS at TCI began with a
pilot group of six teachers and assistants and all of the
social workers, crisis workers, speech teachers, and spe-
cialists (e.g., physical education). Consultation for the
program was provided by graduate students (including
JSK) familiar with the program and working under the
supervision of one of the programs creators (MJE).
From the beginning, the vision of the school leadership
called for SEL programming that is integrated within
all aspects of the special educational setting throughout
the entire school day (M. Cohen, Ettinger, & ODon-
nell, 2003, p. 127). As such, as the programming pro-
gressed efforts were made to train all school personnel
and to orient any new staff to the SDM/SPS program.
Throughout, consultation was provided by graduate stu-
dents and their faculty supervisor at Rutgers University.
These descriptive snapshots are drawn from several
sources. Aside from the reflections of the authors, who
were each involved in a variety of consultative roles at
TCI, data are drawn from several written documents.
The primary source of documentation is a dissertation
written by the school director (Ettinger, 1995) that doc-
uments the systemwide changes and initiatives that oc-
curred during the period from approximately 1993 to
1995. Because SEL has such a central role in the school,
the documentation of this period provides rich descrip-
tions of the work done in this area. Also, the consulta-
tion team was able to publish two journal articles based
612 School-Based Social and Emotional Learning Programs
on their experiences (Kress et al., 1997; Robinson &
Elias, 1993), and these provide an additional perspective
on efforts at TCI. Finally, school leaders published a
chapter describing their efforts (M. Cohen et al., 2003).
Developmental Snapshot 1: Resistant
Clinical Constituents
Our first snapshot concerns a difficulty encountered in
achieving the outcome of schoolwide implementation.
As indicated in a previous section (cf. Novick et al.,
2002), successful implementation of any SDM/SPS pro-
gram depends on mutual acceptance of program goals,
methods, and responsibilities on the part of those called
on to implement the program. Looking at the develop-
mental trajectory of the TCI implementers, it was clear
that not all constituents achieved this, at least not within
the same time frame. Within approximately 3 years
of initial implementation, use among classroom teachers
could be described as moving toward stabilization
of programming. Supports were set up for new teacher-
implementers, meetings were initiated in which imple-
menters were able to share accomplishments and discuss
obstacles, and a committee was formed to address
SPS/SDM programming (Robinson & Elias, 1993).
However, at the same time, it was noted that the school
social workers were not actively participating in imple-
mentation efforts.
The participation of social workers emerged as a con-
cern as early as 1993, when results from interviews con-
ducted by the school principal led him to set social
worker-teacher collaboration as a goal for enhancing
SEL efforts. Further, the nonparticipation of the social
workers was a source of dissatisfaction by the classroom
teachers, who felt that their own efforts were not ex-
tending beyond the classroom.
The roots of the differential readiness of social
workers (as opposed to classroom teachers) to imple-
ment the program can be speculated on. One cause
might have to do with the educational background and
subsequent theoretical perspective of the social work-
ers. According to the school principal, Clinical staff
members had extensive training and education in psy-
chodynamic interventions and understanding chil-
drens psychopathologies. However, they had minimal
course work in education of the emotionally disturbed
child (Ettinger, 1995, p. 15), and in particular, very
little with regard to the type of cognitive-behavioral
approach that underlies the SDM/SPS program.
The reaction of the social workers to SDM/SPS im-
plementation is best summarized from a segment from
the administrators dissertation tracing program imple-
mentation during the period at approximately the 4th
year of implementation:
The social workers graduate studies had prepared them to
work in a traditional mental health setting using a psycho-
dynamic approach emphasizing insight therapy with pullout
mental health services. They were committed to treating
children in a private confidential manner in settings sepa-
rate and apart from the students daily routines in school,
the classroom, and in the community. They perceived their
role with staff members as that of the professional consul-
tant, providing recommendations and advisement. . . . Due
to the clinical paradigm the social workers were clinging
to, they were resistant and threatened by the psycho-
educational model this staff development project promoted.
Social workers had expressed concerns that implementing
the behavior management program, participating in leading
SPS sessions, and conducting social skills training would
result in their losing their identities as therapists. (Ettinger,
1995, pp. 3637)
It is possible to look at this snapshot through the lens
of the developmental arenas described previously. The
increased emphasis on the role of the social workers,
and the concern at their resistance to assuming this role,
can be seen as emerging from the developmental needs
of the students in the setting. The students at TCI, by
virtue of the presenting classification for their referral
to the school, exhibit pronounced deficits in social com-
petence, particularly in the areas of self-control. Efforts
to remediate these deficits are complicated by the fact
that many of these students exhibit learning problems
that confound skill development. TCI students are in-
volved with multiple educational and psychotherapeutic
personnel throughout every school day.
Combined, these factors point out the need for inten-
sive, coordinated efforts to address SEL outcomes in
these students. For one constituency to fail to support
this effort raises the concern that efforts will not be
enough to overcome the challenges faced by the stu-
dents. To address this, the intervention model itself
began to develop as well. Individual teacher implementa-
tion efforts were augmented by ever-widening spheres of
schoolwide implementation. In addition to featuring
specific expectations placed on the social workers, the
period of this snapshot was also characterized by in-
creases in the number and variety of specialists and
Developmental Snapshots 613
other school personnel trained. Along with this came in-
creased efforts at developing communication structures
so that all implementers would target a similar set of
skills with particular students.
This snapshot illustrates the potential for different
cohorts of school-based personnel to be at varying de-
velopmental stages of both their usage and their concern
with regard to an intervention. The concerns expressed
by classroom teachers regarding the lack of carry-over
by the social workers can generally be thought of as rep-
resentative of those who have had experience working
with an intervention and are looking for ways to maxi-
mize impact, particularly by finding others to support
their efforts. From a development of implementation
standpoint, the teachers were implementing and refining
(Table 15.2). However, their efforts to move ahead to the
next level of implementation, that of integrating their ef-
forts with those of others, had been complicated by the
social workers resistance. In terms of the teachers de-
velopment as adult learners, a similar situation existed.
Teachers were interested in the consequences of their
work and in improving their efforts. However, movement
to collaboration, a common next stage, was hindered.
The nature of the SEL intervention was itself in de-
velopmental flux, with increased attention being given
to applying specific behavioral techniques to a focused
effort on the readiness skills of self-control and social
awareness. At this point in the implementation, the
Rutgers-based SDM/SPS consultant was also working
at several developmental levels. Part of the consultants
focus was on helping to provide training and consulta-
tive support, both basic and advanced; the development
of institutional ownership (Kress et al., 1997) was a
major goal as well. Major SDM/SPS implementation
and leadership functions rested in the hands of a multi-
disciplinary team comprising school leadership and
representatives from various school constituencies
(teachers, assistants, clinical staff, specialists). The
consultant was a member of this team, but did not as-
sume a leadership role.
To summarize, this snapshot of resistance on the part
of one constituency occurs within a gradient of develop-
mental relevance understood as the convergence of de-
velopmental trajectories of the implementation process,
the intervention itself, the needs and concerns of the im-
plementers, the role of the consultant, and the needs of
the program recipients. As student needs became clearer
regarding collaborative efforts focused on social compe-
tence promotion, teachers became frustrated by per-
ceived impediments to the effectiveness of their efforts.
The consultant was playing a supportive, rather than a
leadership, role. Understanding this gradient not only
helps in terms of problem definitionunderstanding the
greater context in which the social workers resistance
took placebut also helps in conceptualizing the way
that solutions were implemented.
School leadership, functioning at a point of increasing
ownership of the SDM/SPS program, worked to redefine
the job description of the social workers to place more
emphasis on social workers serving as case managers
who coordinated in and out-of-school services and to in-
clude their role in sps [sic], social skill training, and par-
ent education (Ettinger, 1995, pp. 135136). Social
workers were expected to co-lead SDM/SPS social skills
groups along with the classroom teachers and to provide
carry-over for skill building in their individual clinical
work. Recognizing that the social workers were at a dif-
ferent developmental point in both implementation and
concern about the intervention, specific efforts were
made to provide training with regard to their role in the
skill-building endeavor. Leadership made efforts to make
its expectations clear, even going so far as to remove a so-
cial worker from a case due to unwillingness to support
the [behaviorally based] plan due to [the social workers]
psychoanalytic orientation (p. 169). Other structural
components were put in place to provide opportunities to
reinforce social worker efforts, as well as to increase ac-
countability. For example, social workers and teachers
were asked to present at staff meetings the joint social
skill lessons they developed and implemented.
To increase the degree to which such training was
consistent with the values and expectations of the social
workers, the social workers were provided with litera-
ture and data regarding the efficacy of social skills in-
terventions. In addition, further training and ongoing
consultation were provided by a practicing clinician,
who, although coming from a theoretical orientation dif-
ferent from the social workers, could more specifically
address the clinical issues they confront. This clinician
worked with social workers both on clinical case issues
and on their work with social skills groups in the class-
room, providing both professional modeling and links
among their work. The addition of another consultant
also had the benefit of allowing the Rutgers-based
SDM/SPS consultant to maintain the focus on transfer-
ring ownership and leadership to school personnel.
Close supervision and observation of a large cohort of
the school might have sent an unintended message about
614 School-Based Social and Emotional Learning Programs
the consultants interests in the school leadership being
empowered to guide implementation.
These efforts appear to have had an impact on the
role of the social workers in the school. Several years
after the more intensive work with the social workers,
M. Cohen et al. (2003, p. 137) updated the role of
the school clinical staff: The clinician combines a
cognitive-behavioral approach, classical behavioral prin-
ciples (TCIs Token Economy), and psychodynamic
techniques to promote social competence through social-
emotional skills training and social problem solving.
However, this should not give the impression that the
process was simple and linear. Social workers did not al-
ways report satisfaction with their new roles, and some-
times it took changes in staff before appropriate
implementation occurred.
Snapshot 2: Integrating Interventions
The second snapshot plays out over the same period of
time as the previous one. Feedback from various sources
suggested that efforts to promote the desired SEL out-
comes in the TCI population would be enhanced by the
use of a social skills curriculum that provides direct in-
struction and opportunities for practice, rehearsal, and
application (Ettinger, 1995, p. 7). The importance of a
structured behavioral approach for emotionally and be-
haviorally disordered children and adolescents was
stressed by program consultants and bolstered by the
school executives reading of research literature related
to specific social skills deficits in these populations.
The decision was made to integrate another social skills
curriculum, Skillstreaming (Goldstein, Sprafkin, Ger-
shaw, & Klein, 1980), into the schools SEL work.
It is notable that this desire for a structured be-
havioral curricular approach emerged from a setting
that was in the midst of implementing a program that
was based on a similar array of cognitive-behavioral
principles. The direct instruction . . . practice, re-
hearsal, and application mentioned earlier are all ele-
ments of recommended practice in the SDM/SPS
program. As mentioned previously, a major component
of the SDM/SPS curriculum involves building readiness
skills in the areas of self-control and social awareness.
For example, a lesson on listening skills introduces a set
of behaviors associated with Listening Position (sit
or stand up straight, look at the source of the sound,
etc.) and practice activities. Teachers are instructed to
give feedback to student efforts and to prompt and rein-
force proper use of Listening Position throughout the
school day.
It is worth exploring briefly the specific concerns
about the behavioral skill content of the SDM/SPS and
the perceived benefits of bringing in the Skillstreaming
program. In comparing the approaches of the two pro-
grams, the school director emphasized the differences
rather than the similarities: Social skills training is be-
havior specific in comparison to SPS, emphasis is on
teaching prosocial skills rather than cognitive strate-
gies (Ettinger, 1995, p. 57). Clearly, there is an element
of perception involved here. As shown by the example of
Listening Position in the SDM/SPS curriculum, there
is a behavioral skills focus to the SDM/SPS program.
Further, the Skillstreaming curriculum does contain a
section on Planning Skills, similar to the problem-
solving skills of SDM/SPS.
However, perceptions notwithstanding, there are some
significant differences between the two approaches. The
( behavioral skills-based) readiness section of the
SDM/SPS curriculum contains 16 skill areas (e.g.,
Learning to listen carefully and accurately, Giving
criticism). The Skillstreaming program contains 42 dis-
tinct behavioral skill areas, plus 8 more in the more cog-
nitively oriented Planning Skills section. These 42
skill areas are broken down into a small number (gener-
ally 4 to 6) of performance steps. It is likely that this ap-
proach was seen as more consistent with the educational
approach generally taken with students at TCI. Further,
the discrete skill-based approach of Skillstreaming gen-
erally lends itself to a more structured approach to teach-
ing the skills.
It is important to note that the approach taken at TCI
was not one of replacing one curriculum with another.
Rather, the two curricular approaches were integrated
into a unique SEL approach. The work of integrating the
curricula was guided by the schools interdisciplinary
Social Problem Solving Committee, which, as curricular
integration progressed, was renamed the Social Devel-
opment Committee. This new name reflected the grow-
ing role of the committee in guiding SEL efforts,
expanding beyond the implementation of a specific pro-
gram. The committees guiding vision was summarized
by the school director: The SPS curriculum would be
followed, which provided the structure, developmental
guidelines, and strategies for social skills instruction.
The social Skillstreaming curriculum provided more de-
tailed, specific skills to be integrated into the SPS
curriculum and additional instructional strategies (Et-
Developmental Snapshots 615
tinger, 1995, p. 98). As such, the committee kept the se-
quence and developmental structure of SDM/SPS while
adding a more fine-grained breakdown of skills and
extra behavioral rehearsal and practice that character-
izes the Skillstreaming approach.
Curricular integration was supported by the consult-
ing psychologist, who understood how to make the ap-
proaches work in a complementary way. A constructivist
approach was used to bring the teachers along in their
understanding of how the new structure might work. A
half-day staff training workshop was held on the topic,
and teachers developed and presented a lesson illustrat-
ing the integration. The implementation model called for
classroom teachers and social workers to collaborate in
developing and delivering SPS/Skillstreaming lessons.
The Social Development Committee would collate the
lessons into a unique site-based curriculum guide and
spent 3 days during the summer break formalizing and
organizing lessons into a Social Development Curricu-
lum Guide. The guide, and training in using it, was pre-
sented to all staff when they returned for the following
school year. Sharing of new social development lessons
became a regular part of staff meetings.
This initial combination of SPS and Skillstreaming
can be seen as the beginning of a cycle of curricular in-
tegration and adaptation that resulted in what has been
referred to as the TCI Model (M. Cohen et al., 2003).
The model is summarized as follows:
TCI uses a cognitive-behavioral approach with all stu-
dents. . . . This involves a step-by-step process to teach stu-
dents what they need to do to develop socially appropriate
replacement behaviors. On a regular basis, students also
participate in practice and rehearsal of skills specific to
the needs of the individual child. It is through this tech-
nique that students learn to replace inappropriate actions
with appropriate ones with a specific situation. This
method is based on the extensive works of Dr. Maurice
Elias (Elias & Tobias, 1996), Dr. Arnold Goldsteins Skill-
streaming curriculum (McGinnis & Goldstein, 1984), and
Dr. Frank Greshams Social Skills Intervention Guide
(Elliott & Gresham, 1992). These woks focus on the social
and emotional learning of all children: using the cycle of
design, implementation, and feedback for more than a
decade, TCI staff members revisedand continue to re-
vise todaythe works to reflect the unique needs of our
students. We then added lessons promoting self-esteem
and other social-emotional skills. This evolved into TCIs
Social Development Curriculum.
The TCI model incorporates the common vocabulary
found in Elias and Clabbys (1989) approach. . . . The use
of this shared language created far greater continuity in
care for the students than had previously been in evidence.
(M. Cohen et al., 2003, pp. 128129)
The SDM/SPS provides the structure and language
into which a number of other curricular pieces are inte-
grated. The result is a unique product that speaks di-
rectly to the needs of the site in which it was created. As
with any snapshot taken of a setting, the integration of
Skillstreaming and SDM/SPS represents a convergence
of the developmental arenas described previously. Per-
haps the main motivator was concern for the develop-
mental trajectory of the students and an increasing
understanding of how best to address these concerns.
Specific behavioral skill deficits, frequently found in
populations such as TCIs, seemed to indicate that a
more focused skill-building approach was warranted.
As summarized in the previous snapshot, implemen-
tation at this point was inconsistent among the various
school constituents. Classroom teachers were regularly
implementing SDM/SPS lessons, but the clinical staff
was generally resistant to refocusing their primarily
psychodynamic approach. Teachers were ready to refine
their work based on their experiences and the results of
initial implementation, which gave rise to a desire for a
behavioral skills-based focus. The consultant, as noted
previously, was working with a goal of transferring
major program SEL ownership to the setting, rather
than outside support personnel. Finally, it is evident that
this snapshot marks a major developmental change in the
intervention itself, moving from the use of a specific
program to the creation of an integrative new approach.
The gradient created by this convergence of devel-
opmental arenas can help in the understanding of how
these events unfolded. In particular, this snapshot is
notable for what did not happen. In the face of newly
understood programmatic needs, school leadership re-
fused to take the commonly trod path of revolving-
door programming. That is, the SDM/SPS program was
not replaced by Skillstreaming, and a new cycle of im-
plementation was not begun. The decision of the
schools director and the Social Development Commit-
tee to adapt rather than adopt may be attributable to
the already existing level of comfort and competence
with the SDM/SPS program on the part of the frontline
implementers. Further, school personnel had long-
lasting positive relationships with consultants from the
SDM/SPS program. This relationship had evolved to
the point where the SDM/SPS consultant, rather than
616 School-Based Social and Emotional Learning Programs
supervising or overseeing implementation, was in-
volved as a member of the Social Development Com-
mittee, attending meetings and voicing opinions on
a par with all other members of this group. This
might have helped the consultant, and the program he
represented, to move with the committee, rather than
setting up an either/or situation between SDM/SPS
and Skillstreaming. Finally, school SEL leadership had
an appreciation of the unique nature of their student
population and recognized the opportunity to do some-
thing new in a way that would contribute to the field.
For example, from the early stages of SEL curricular
integration, the Social Development Committee and
school leadership developed a proposal to present their
approach at a statewide conference.
CONCLUSIONS
Although we acknowledge the centrality of the five de-
velopmental arenas reviewed here, there may be other
developmentally linked areas of change that can impact
implementation efforts. For example, factors involved in
the school leadership might be of relevance. Is the prin-
cipal new to the setting, or a veteran? What is the prin-
cipals history of working with (or failing to work with)
various constituents in the school? How much does lead-
ership know about and care about the intervention in
question? A second additional area is the life span of
the setting itself. How long has the setting been in exis-
tence? What other interventions, in SEL and beyond, are
currently being implemented, or have been implemented
in the past? A school still recovering from a difficult or
controversy-filled implementation process of, say, a new
block-scheduling approach may present unique chal-
lenges to efforts to again initiate something new.
For interventions to succeed, a convergence of a large
number of what are essentially developmental influ-
ences must take place. Consultants, as well as school
leaders, who attempt to implement innovations can
hardly keep all of the possible areas clearly in mind and
coordinate the affect, cognition, and behavior necessary
to do so. Yet, some interventions, like SDM/SPS in TCI,
succeed. We hypothesize that for this to happen, a criti-
cal mass of those involved in the implementation process
must have a generalized, developmental understanding
that pervades their work. It may take the form of a gen-
eralized expectancy (Rotter, 1954), a superordinate
schema, or some other higher-order transactional orga-
nizing structure. This is a matter for future research.
What is clear, however, is that our understanding of the
implementation process (and consultation process) can
be enhanced by adding the perspective of a gradient of
developmental relevance and applying it to the context of
interventions, as a complement to a developmental per-
spective on the student recipients and their match to de-
velopmental content of the intervention itself.
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619
CHAPTER 16
Children and War Trauma
AVIGDOR KLINGMAN
THE WAR CONTEXT AND IMPACT
ON CHILDREN 620
War-Related Psychological Responses and
Intervention Challenges 622
Resilience and Coping 626
COMMUNITY AS A CONTEXT OF
HEALING: THE SHIFT FROM CLINIC- TO
COMMUNITY-BASED INTERVENTIONS 627
Prewar Generic Anticipatory Interventions 630
War and Postwar Community-Based
Generic Interventions 631
Enhancement of Coping and Resiliency in
Generic Terms 636
INDICATEDINDIVIDUAL ANDSMALL-GROUP
SYMPTOM-FOCUSEDINTERVENTIONS FOR
POSTTRAUMATIC STRESS DIISORDER 640
OPEN QUESTIONS AND
CONCLUDING REMARKS 645
REFERENCES 648
This chapter addresses childrens war-triggered stress
responses and the related mental health intervention op-
tions. Unlike most disasters, war does not comprise a
short, single, violent event but rather a large-scale,
protracted, complex, constantly changing, novel, and
often unpredictable emergency that encompasses life-
threatening exposure, targets an entire society, and cre-
ates shared mental suffering. War is a case of extreme
societal violence that unsettles entire populations at the
personal, familial, and broader social levels (e.g., com-
munity, ethnic group, state, or national), while damag-
ing physical property and infrastructures. As a result,
civilians total life experience is disrupted, sometimes
even replaced by a state of surreal existence; the vic-
tims pain and suffering often seem devoid of rational
explanation, a condition that contradicts the human need
for a predictable environment and equilibrium (Kahana,
Kahana, Harel, & Rosner, 1998; Williams-Gray, 1999).
Wars may take various forms of deliberate, intentionally
inflicted violent activities that especially target civilian
populations. One such form of contemporary war uses
long-range high-technology weapons with biological and
chemical warhead capability to surgically remove a
civilian target, devastating civilians and their environ-
ments. Such were the missile attacks by Iraq against
populated cities of Israel during the 1991 Gulf War. An-
other instance constitutes ethnic strife, as evinced par-
ticularly in the former Soviet republics, as well as in
conflicts in the developing world and in the civil wars in
the former Yugoslavia (in which harming women and
children was often a war strategy). Ethnic fighting fre-
quently results in forced evacuations or flight to refugee
camps in neighboring countries. A third example is the
new form of war targeting innocent civilians, repre-
sented by the recent large-scale terrorist attacks of Sep-
tember 11, 2001, on the United States and the massive
attacks by suicide bombers during the second Palestin-
ian uprising in Israel, and lately in Iraq. The threat of
political terrorism as an act of war has recently suc-
ceeded in overturning the enduring sense of national se-
curity enjoyed by even the most politically stable,
peaceful, and affluent democracies of the world.
As is inevitable in war, many children experience high
levels of war-related stress. In this cumulative condition,
children who are exposed to the stressors of war and/or
political violence/terrorism exhibit complex biopsy-
chobehavioral disruptions. These may involve significant
alternations in cognitive, emotional, moral, behavioral,
and psychosocial functioning. This condition incorpo-
rates cultural dynamics and an existential response
to sociopolitical upheaval (Parson, 1996). To date, a
substantial body of literature has accumulated on the
620 Children and War Trauma
psychological consequences of war for adults, but less is
known about the longer-term effects of war on children
(Cairns & Dawes, 1996; Dybdahl, 2001; Dyregrov,
Gupta, Gjestad, & Mukanoheli, 2000). Literature on
psychological interventions with children in the midst of
war is almost nonexistent, and so the literature on the
effects of therapeutic interventions with children follow-
ing war remains relatively scarce. Despite the desirabil-
ity and value of empirical research data in the area of
childrens responses to and recovery from war, conduct-
ing well-designed research is problematic because of the
scope, complexity, and uniqueness of war and the various
operational pressures involved. Often, neither field con-
ditions nor funds are available for conducting a well-
controlled, detailed study during or immediately after
war (Klingman & Cohen, 2004; Klingman, Sagi, &
Raviv, 1993). In part, the available empirical findings
conflict due to methodological diversity and flawed evi-
dence collection (e.g., absence of proper controls, non-
random selection of participants, use of dissimilar tools).
In most cases, reported field experiences and projects
and their in-house evaluation provide the best informa-
tion on the subject of intervention in wartime or in war-
affected regions.
This chapter therefore draws on theory and research
but also leans heavily on reported field experiences,
which are examined in light of theory and research find-
ings. Furthermore, most empirical studies concerning
psychological intervention in war have focused intently
on Posttraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) or the risk for
PTSD and on treatment of PTSD-related symptoms.
However, this chapter aims to reach beyond a classifica-
tory psychopathological approach to also focus on the
overall quality of the childs needs for the adaptation
process (American Academy of Child and Adolescent
Psychiatry, 1998); the need to intervene with childrens
war stress reactions, not only with disorders; and the role
of positive coping, resiliency, and trauma-induced
growth in the recovery process. Many of the intervention
cases discussed in this chapter illustrate a preventive re-
sponse to a wide variety of childrens war-related stress
reactions and propose the adoption of a wider develop-
mental psychopathology perspective in clinical interven-
tion for PTSD-related symptomatology. Because intense
war experiences are shared by children and the signifi-
cant others in their lives, the multisystemic intervention
approach seems especially relevant as the method of
choice for war situations. Accordingly, this chapter con-
textualizes, examines, and treats the impact of war on
children at three levels (Ager, 1996; Klingman & Cohen,
2004): the direct personal, the family-mediated, and the
broader social-mediated levels.
The purpose of this chapter is thus threefold. One aim
is to present the unique war-related issues faced by chil-
dren and their implications for intervention. The second
is to present war-related multimodal psychological inter-
ventions with children in the context of a preventive, mul-
tisystemic, generic, society-focused (e.g., school-based,
school-linked, and community-initiated) approach that
emphasizes positive psychology. The third aim is to re-
view specific war-related therapeutic interventions for
individuals and small groups, focusing on those for which
PTSD-related symptomatology is considered a useful ref-
erence point and which are complementary to and con-
gruent with the two preceding aims.
THE WAR CONTEXT AND IMPACT
ON CHILDREN
This section of the chapter presents the major factors
constituting the magnitude and breadth of wars psy-
chological effects on children. Interventionists aware-
ness of the prevalence and especially the combination of
these factors will enable the identification of popula-
tions, groups, and individuals with special needs and
with a high likelihood of developing disorders.
Children in war zones grow up in an atmosphere of
constant fear for life and limb. In UNICEFs 1996 State
of the Worlds Children report, it was estimated that
wars in the preceding decade killed 2 million children
and left another 4 to 5 million children disabled. Addi-
tional life-threatening conditions may result from diffi-
culties in access to transportation, adequate food,
medications, and immunizations (which may sometimes
be intentionally denied). Loss of significant others con-
stitutes another major threat, whose impact varies
across the childs development. The greatest threat to an
infant is likely to be loss of or separation from the pri-
mary caregiver(s) or serious injury to the functioning
caregiver(s); adolescents have the potential to experi-
ence greater losses of friends and acquaintances outside
the family (Wright, Masten, & Hubbard, 1997). In cer-
tain types of wars, children may also witness repeated
violent acts against their significant others (e.g., tor-
ture, sexual violence, public display of executed per-
sons). War may also involve large-scale extensive
The War Context and Impact on Children 621
violations of childrens basic rights: Children may be
forced to separate from their parents, be confined in
concentration camps, and denied access to education or
health services; in some wars, they are even raped or
prostituted. In various conflict zones, children are ex-
ploited for ideological propaganda or enlisted into civil
strife activities. The availability of very lightweight
weapons enables younger children to become directly
involved; in certain cases, they are recruited forcibly or
coaxed into military service (child combatants); others
are driven into war and war-related activities by
poverty, alienation, discrimination, and/or the desire
for revenge (see Silva, Hobbs, & Hanks, 2001). Expo-
sure to the sustained stress of war and violence, com-
bined with dwindling hopes for the future, may result in
desensitization to dangers, whereby children begin tak-
ing further life risks in an effort to establish a sense of
control (Garbarino, Dubrow, & Kostelny, 1991). Some
children and youth engage in self-engineered patterns of
reexposure to traumatic sensory repetition, seeking out
situations of affective intensity, excitement, and danger
such as child-soldier status (Parson, 2000). Children
who live surrounded by land mines and dormant (clus-
ter) bombs may become desensitized to them or at-
tracted to their colors, or may think it is brave to be seen
handling explosives; this may continue for some time
after the war is over (Klingman, 2002c).
During war, basic infrastructures such as the econ-
omy, public health, medicine, education, social welfare,
and psychological services may become overloaded,
drastically restricted, seriously impaired, or incapaci-
tated for lengthy periods, or may even collapse. Depend-
ing on the severity of the damage, a very long period
may be required to reestablish infrastructures even after
the war is over. This situation holds direct as well as in-
direct implications for children, specifically through
closure of schools, restrictions on social /recreational
activities, and unavailability (at least temporarily) of
psychological and welfare services. Prolonged destruc-
tion at a societal level may cause adolescents (struggling
to define themselves in a changed world) to question the
value of schooling or work in a war-torn country or in a
nation whose economy has been decimated (Wright
et al., 1997).
Another major problem typifying many war-ravaged
regions is forced evacuation and the resulting large
number of refugee or displaced children, sometimes
called the forgotten victims of war. An estimated 12
million children became homeless due to armed con-
flicts between 1988 and 1998 (Southall & Abbasi,
1998). The refugee process advances through three
phases: preflight, flight, and resettlement (Gonsalves,
1992). Before evacuation or flight begins, many chil-
dren may be overwhelmed by war atrocities or undergo
a lengthy process of traumatization typically experi-
enced as a psychic trauma. The relocation or flight is in
itself socially, culturally, and psychologically complex
and can impede the normal process of child develop-
ment, particularly if children are alone in their migra-
tion. In attempting to resettle, children may experience
the distress of refugee camp life: malnutrition, which
increases the incidence of childhood illnesses (Goldson,
1993); exposure to pervasive discrimination and bias
due to their cultural background, skin color, racial
origin, or religion; and childrens often fundamental ig-
norance of the host culture (Parson, 2000; Reichman,
1993; van der Veer, 1992). They may have to conceal
the actions they took while fleeing and may be suspi-
cious of all authority figures (including psychologists),
at least until they are certain about their future legal
status. Moreover, refugee parents may instruct their
children never to disclose anything to outsiders, which
may hinder the process of helping children come to
terms with their experiences (van der Veer, 1992; Yule,
2002).
The impact of mass terror attacks constitutes a war
situation that deserves specific attention, particularly
when such attacks become a chronic condition without
discrete beginning and end points. A terrorist attack oc-
curs without warning and selects symbolic targets that
will not only weaken symbols of power but will also con-
vey the idea that no one is safe (see Gidron, 2002; Kling-
man & Cohen, 2004). Civilians do not know how to
prepare for or respond effectively to such an unfamiliar
event and predominantly feel that neither they nor the
authorities (police, army, government) can prevent such
attacks. People find it hard, if not impossible, to make
sense of or find meaning in such deliberate and indis-
criminate malicious, violent, inhuman acts.
The specific threat of unconventional chemical, bio-
logical, or radiological weapons in international as well
as domestic terrorism necessitates consideration of spe-
cific, direct health effects, and also the resulting pri-
mary and secondary psychological effects. Presumably,
children will suffer more extreme effects from the re-
lease of chemical or biological weapons than will adults.
For example, childrens higher number of respirations
per minute may result in exposure to a relatively greater
622 Children and War Trauma
dosage of aerosolized agents such as sarin and anthrax.
Children who witness the weapons effect also risk de-
veloping psychological injuries from the experience.
Moreover, the invisibility of biological and chemical
agents may lead to false-alarm reactions that may result
in mass episodes of sociogenic illness and associated
anxiety (see discussion on such effects on children in
Klingman & Cohen, 2004). Also, children may become
confined indoors or to sealed (gas-proofed) rooms for
most of the day due to the threat of unconventional war-
head missile attacks. They may experience relative iso-
lation, protracted boredom, and a lack of sustaining
structure, as among Israeli children during the 1991
Gulf War (Solomon, 1995).
The previous outline mainly explored the magnitude
and duration of war as they affect children. In the next
two subsections, first the psychological risk mecha-
nisms involved are detailed, and then the resilient re-
sponses. These constitute a complex range of factors
present before, during, and after war.
War-Related Psychological Responses and
Intervention Challenges
All mass disasters present problems that challenge
the coping resources of victims and community ser-
vices alike; the nature and consequences of war,
however, present numerous unique challenges. The psy-
chological effects of war involve contextual, personal,
and recovery-environment factors and encompass a wide
spectrum of emotional, cognitive, and behavioral out-
comes. The practitioners awareness of the prevalence
and combination of these factors will facilitate the iden-
tification of populations, groups, and individuals who
have a relatively high likelihood of developing distress,
adjustment difficulties, and (consequently) disorders.
Such awareness will also serve for planning relevant (es-
pecially preventive) interventions.
Warfare affects the childs mental map, or cognitive
and emotional schemata, as life becomes inconsistent
with prewar norms. Children of war are exposed to a
continuous series of adverse experiences that are poten-
tially traumatic in that they involve multisensory experi-
ences of sights, sounds, and smells that a child may be
incapable of comprehending or assimilating within the
existing cognitive-emotional schema (Ager, 1996). War-
fare forces children to process information that may
challenge core beliefs and assumptions that people are
trustworthy, that the world is a meaningful, predictable,
and secure environment, and that the self is worthy
(Janoff-Bulman, 1992). In general, maps that previ-
ously guided the child through the world suddenly prove
inaccurate, and life becomes unpredictable and untrust-
worthy. Fearing that the traumatic experiences may re-
turn, children may develop catastrophic beliefs. When
no opportunities exist to engage in a search for meaning,
children and especially adolescents are left with per-
ceived unsolvable contradictions that may lead to
greater distress. They may experience an inability to
predict or project a meaningful future for themselves.
Children may lose trust in others, especially if they wit-
ness violent acts by people or groups with whom they
maintained a friendly, or at least a stable, prewar rela-
tionship (e.g., in Croatia; Williams-Gray, 1999). They
may also face contradictions between the values and be-
haviors inculcated in them in the past (prewar) and those
underlying apparently successful adaptations in the vio-
lent present. Those clinging to the past may be less pre-
pared for the stresses of war, whereas children who
discard prewar sensibilities for a self well-adjusted to
the present war (especially child combatants assimilat-
ing the virtues of destruction of the enemy) may experi-
ence great difficulties with the advent of a peaceful
future (Ager, 1996).
The complex childhood environment in war imposes
unique demands with regard to childrens developmental
tasks, such as learning to live with constant fear, strug-
gling with identity formation and moral reasoning, cre-
ating intimate relationships, and planning for the future.
These may result in interference with normative develop-
mental tasks, or with the smooth transition to the next
developmental stage, such as emotional regulation in
toddler years, controlling aggressive behavior in middle
childhood, and forming intimate bonds in adolescence.
War is likely to have wide-ranging influences on devel-
opmental tasks connected with the formation of suc-
cessful peer relationships and adaptation to school.
Furthermore, children are at risk of losing previously ac-
quired developmental skills or regressing to a less ma-
ture behavioral mode. Serious risk also exists for
growing up too fast and losing childhood too early, for
example by being forced to resolve serious moral and
emotional conflicts before full maturation (Punamaeki,
2002). Legitimate concerns about child safety in an un-
predictable war environment may result in caretakers
overprotection and discouragement of increased inde-
The War Context and Impact on Children 623
pendence; conversely, parents attempting to cope with
the wars hardships and stresses may expect their chil-
dren to mature more quickly, thereby easing the de-
mands on their parenting.
A prolonged period of warfare may cause disruptions
in the childs experience of social relationships. These
may stem, for instance, from curfews or restrictions on
out-of-home movement, forced evacuation resulting in
separation of family members and/or loss of parent(s),
peers, or adult significant other(s), and the closure of
schools. War-zone children may have problems in gaug-
ing interpersonal distance, experiencing attachments
that are too close or too distant or vacillating between
detachment and enmeshment (Parson, 2000).
Children in war may find themselves with fewer so-
cial outlets and supportive resources to deal with their
adverse experiences. This occurs because war inevitably
impinges (directly or indirectly) on both the childs nat-
ural (i.e., peer, family, and significant others) and for-
mal (i.e., community psychological and social welfare
services) support systems. War may also have indirect
consequences, for example, when long-lasting economic
damage affects parents ability to take care of their chil-
dren. Moreover, parents face the double challenge of
processing their own subjective traumatic experience
and managing their own individual reactions, while con-
currently relating to the childrens needs and often also
those of other family members (e.g., elderly relatives).
In addition, increased functional demands occur in the
family, such as those related to a spouses absence due
to deployment or hospitalization or the adjustment diffi-
culties of a homecoming war veteran. The numerous
types of family stress may result in parenting change: a
more authoritarian parenting style, less supervision of
children, or less positive emotional interaction. More-
over, when a parent directly experiences a traumatic
event, preoccupation with his or her own symptomatol-
ogy may reach the point where it is impossible for that
parent to appropriately monitor and effectively respond
to the young childs needs. Furthermore, in wartime,
children and parents often experience traumatization by
the same event or different events, but the effects of
each victims symptomatology exacerbate the others
(Scheeringa & Zeanah, 2001). Psychological unavail-
ability of the attachment figure as a secure base may
lead to long-term psychological impairment (Cicchetti,
Toth, & Lynch, 1997). Parental support is an important
factor in explaining both childrens resilience and in-
crease in problems (Dybdahl, 2001). Interventionists
should strongly consider psychosocial interventions for
parents with respect to parenting during wartime (for a
detailed discussion, see Klingman & Cohen, 2004).
War necessitates the adaptation of existing coping
strategies and techniques as well as the development of
new coping modes. Effective coping with a prolonged
traumatic situation requires the ability to shift and ma-
nipulate mental experiences, seek help, rely on soothing
and consoling memories, construct new metaphors, and
create comprehensive narratives to replace fragmented
horrific pictures (Punamaeki, 2002). The childs adap-
tive coping strategies and techniques may differ across
war-induced situations, and at different points in the
course of the war new situation-specific needs may
become central to the choice of strategy. For example, a
problem-focused coping style may not be practical for
a child in certain circumstances or points in time. Using
a problem-focused strategy may serve as a reminder of
the uncontrollability of the situation, whereas emotion-
focused coping, or even high defensiveness (e.g., denial,
avoidance), might offer the child time to assimilate the
trauma more readily. Some data indicate that children
who persisted in directly engaging in problem solving
and other activities to change an unchangeable situation
may have coped less effectively than those relying on
emotion-focused coping (Klingman et al., 1993). A wide
repertoire of coping modes and their situation-sensitive,
flexible, and adequate employment are likely conducive
to an enhanced recovery process. Coping modes effec-
tiveness must be considered in terms of personality dif-
ferences and goodness-of-fit with the challenges that
war situations pose for children. Thus, professionals and
parents should not strip children of their personal ways
of responding to trauma but rather should expose and
guide them toward the utilization or even creation of a
new and broader repertoire of strategies (Klingman &
Cohen, 2004; Punamaeki, 2002; Rutter, 2000).
War conditions may involve the intensification of pre-
existing anxieties. For example, Ronen (1996a, 1996b)
detailed the case history of ten 9- to 11-year-old Israeli
children who were referred for treatment a few weeks
after the 1991 Gulf War. Unlike the other members of
their families, these childrens war-related anxious be-
haviors did not decrease after the war. They all evi-
denced anxiety reactions, sleep disorders, and features
of separation anxiety as an outcome of the war. An accu-
rate review of each childs past history revealed previous
624 Children and War Trauma
anxieties beginning in early childhood. The war may
have affected their prewar anxieties in several ways
(Ronen, 1996b): by legitimizing expressions of fear,
thereby increasing childrens preoccupation with their
own fears; by parents ceasing to insist (as they had be-
fore, in peacetime) that their children invest as much in
overcoming their fears, thereby reinforcing and main-
taining new fears; by legitimizing avoidant behavior, in
contrast to peacetime, when the children had been
forced to expose themselves in one way or another to
anxiety-provoking situations (e.g., remaining in their
own beds); and by normalizing and thus reinforcing new
wartime life patterns in which the children experienced
staying at home and sleeping together with the family in
the sealed room. This togetherness actually released
these children from the need to cope with their anxiety
and conditioned them to the new situation of staying at
home with their family. Also, wartime may arouse the
negative effects of earlier trauma, thus sensitizing an
individual to subsequent stress and trauma and creating
vulnerability for PTSD (Cicchetti et al., 1997).
The combination of trauma and grief often seen in
war may lead to traumatic grief or bereavement, which
involves a complex overlay of symptoms that arise from
the difficulty inherent in moving on with grief work due
to ones preoccupation with the trauma. Without first
working through the traumatic experience and/or the
traumatic nature of a significant others death, this dif-
ficulty may impede the normal work of grief and resolu-
tion (Klingman & Cohen, 2004; Malkinson, Rubin, &
Witztum, 2000).
Evacuation may involve childrens separation from
family. Several studies have indicated that children sepa-
rated from their family during war proved more dis-
tressed by the separation than by exposure to bombings
or by witnessing destruction, injury, or death (Kling-
man, 2002a, 2002b). Those who experienced constant
bombing did not seem adversely affected, provided they
remained with their mother or mother substitute and
continued their familiar routines.
Discrete war-related effects may develop in children
with regard to the deployment of their loved ones. (Note
that this can have an effect on children even if the
conflict is raging in a distant country.) Children must
face the possibility that a parent could be wounded or
killed in action. Additional stressors may occur as a re-
sult of up-to-the-minute information and vivid, often live,
combat scenes transferred by way of conventional and
satellite-transmitted television, commercial radio, com-
puter modem, fax machine, and the Internet (Figley,
1993a, 1993b). Misinformation and rumors spread easily
via these means and cause harm. Reactions of children
who are separated from a deployed parent range from
sadness, jealousy of children whose parents are not de-
ployed, and increased levels of unruly behavior and anger,
to fears, separation anxiety, hostility toward the other
parent, and guilt (Costello, Phelps, & Wilczenski, 1994).
Some may experience depressive symptoms or (espe-
cially among younger children) exhibit acute acting-out
behavior. A fathers long absence may promote maternal
overprotection, indirectly contributing to sex-role devel-
opment difficulties (e.g., effeminacy, softness) and af-
fecting later father-child bonding. Children may be
burdened with extra tasks because of the parents ab-
sence, which requires them to forgo age-appropriate ac-
tivities and adopt adult-like responsibilities. As mostly
fathers are deployed, mothers play the key role in deter-
mining whether or not children cope well when faced
with their fathers prolonged absence (Hunter, 1988).
The parents return and reunion also deserves atten-
tion. A parents prolonged absence may deeply affect
children, who may respond with a mixture of relief and
anger (which their parents may not understand) at both
the prolonged absence and the reunion/reintegration
(Figley, 1993a; Hobfoll et al., 1991). The reunion may
cause considerable ambivalence, with relief and exhila-
ration. In addition to the psychosocial residue of com-
bat, the returning parents face changes in society and in
the family and may have to deal with new family con-
flicts related to their prolonged absence as well as the
old ones, if they existed. The family may enter power
struggles engendered by anxieties over parental role
changes and shifts in parent-child loyalties.
Exposure to their parents posttraumatic stress may
also affect children. The relationship between parents
war experience and subsequent stress disorder and their
childrens problems is considered a secondary traumati-
zation. Intense involvement of a child in the emotional
life of such a parent may cause high levels of anxiety,
guilt, and conscious and unconscious preoccupation
with specific events that were traumatic for the parent.
These children should receive help to disentangle their
experiences from those being relived by their parents
(Rosenheck & Nathan, 1985).
Silence and denial about previous traumatic experi-
ences may be common in families exposed to war-
produced violence; the basis for this is mutual protection
of parents and children. An intergenerational communi-
The War Context and Impact on Children 625
cation pattern referred to as the conspiracy of silence
has been found in families of survivors (Danieli, 1998).
This silence between the survivors and their children re-
garding the parents traumatic experience emanated not
only from the parents need to forget (e.g., We should
forget the past and look ahead), but also from their be-
lief that withholding information about the horrors of the
war was crucial to their childrens normal development
(e.g., Opening up old wounds can only cause more suf-
fering or harm to my child). Their children, in turn, be-
came sensitive to their parents need to keep silent
(Bar-On, 1995, 1996). As a result, both generations
often mutually supported a double wall of silence.
Studies of families of the Holocaust survivors (Auerhahn
& Laub, 1998; Felsen, 1998), Japanese American intern-
ment camps (Nagata, 1998), Dutch war sailors and resist-
ance veterans (Op den Velde, 1998), and Vietnam
veterans (Ancharoff, Munroe, & Fisher, 1998), taken to-
gether, suggest that the quality of parents (verbal and
nonverbal) communication about traumatic experiences
may have major consequences for the inner and interper-
sonal life of their children (Wiseman & Barber, 2004;
Wiseman et al., 2002).
Children often attempt to shield their parents from
knowing how much the childrens own trauma has af-
fected them. Such protectiveness (or even denial) may
be considered an adaptive strategy that supports the ca-
pacity of both parents and children to cope and survive
in dangerous wartime situations, and it also serves the
function of preserving the childs internal representa-
tions of his or her parents as a secure base. Yet, it may
become an obstacle if, as a result, the child is later (es-
pecially when the war is over) left with insufficient
parental support and must deal alone with the effects of
war trauma; clinicians need to take these family dynam-
ics into consideration (Almqvist & Broberg, 1997;
Wiseman & Barber, 2004).
War-relevant coping mechanisms may interfere with
postwar adjustment. A wartime environment may ren-
der childrens dissociative mechanisms, for instance, to
be not only normal but even necessary as an important
functional defensive maneuver (i.e., a survival strat-
egy) in adapting to danger, violent scenes, and evil.
Such defense mechanisms spare the child victim the
self-experiences of abject passivity, helplessness, un-
worthiness, and vulnerability to harm. In prolonged
trauma-inducing war events, children may develop
impulse-driven, aggressive self-defense responses that
can interfere with problem solving and lead to overag-
gressiveness toward peers and parents, difficulty in
modulating impulses, problems with social attachment
and attention, lack of participation in preparing for the
future, and the loss of trust, hope, a sense of agency,
and meaningful attachments (Witty, 2002). Also, chil-
dren in war-affected zones may adopt a revenge-
oriented ideology as a simplistic coping mechanism;
they may become intolerant and/or suspicious of peers
from a different (racial, ethnic, or religious) back-
ground or political ideology, or to peers who show non-
conforming behavior. In this sense, the role of society
or the community in providing a solution to moral con-
flicts should not be overlooked. When the war is over,
such conflicts may affect childrens adjustment; some,
for example, will not (at least immediately) connect
with regular school study projects or a peace dialogue.
Moreover, the experience of wartime/political conflict
and violence has shown links with aggressive and even
delinquent behavior (e.g., Shoham, 1994) due to low-
ered levels of child supervision, an increase in thrill
seeking resulting from excitement attached to the no-
tion of war, social modeling, and the normalization of
violence, as well as anxiety and loss of control experi-
enced by children during war and protracted war-like
situations (Cairns, 1996; Muldoon, 2000). Postwar
psychological intervention should thus examine the
need to focus on making these fixations movable again.
The observed incidence of PTSD symptomatology in
children as a result of exposure to war or war-like events
is highly variable. For instance, rates ranged from 6%
who met all three symptom criteria (e.g., Dawes, Tre-
doux, & Feinstein, 1989; Klingman, 2001) to 32% in
Cambodian children some 10 years after they witnessed
the execution of family members (Clarke, Sack, & Goff,
1993). This variability in prevalence rates may be re-
lated to the number, the type, and the intensity of war
traumas experienced. Based on a study of Lebanese
children, Macksoud and Aber (1996) concluded that in
situations of chronic armed conflict, where there is no
respite from the traumas of war, children are at risk of
developing continuous PTSD. Nevertheless, PTSD
should not be the only criterion for launching an inter-
vention; the long-term effect of traumatic experiences
emerged, for example, in the case of Israeli adolescents
taken hostage during a school outing. Most survivors
who were investigated reported some forms of trauma-
related symptoms even 17 years after their face-to-face
encounter with the terrorists (Desivilya, Gal, & Ayalon,
1996a, 1996b). Experts agree that up to one-third of the
626 Children and War Trauma
young people in a community may develop PTSD. How-
ever, to date, neither well-designed qualitative data nor
quantitative longitudinal data exist to allow conclusions
to be drawn on the duration and recurrence of traumatic
exposure in children and adolescents following war or on
their war-related mental health risks.
Resilience and Coping
These unique effects of war on children are related to
various negative impacts. Yet some children cope rea-
sonably well despite exposure to the extremely stressful
circumstances. Others cope better when they are of fered
a sensitive recovery environment, that is, when their
physical safety is ensured and social infrastructures are
created (or reestablished) to meet their basic physical
and emotional needs.
Successful coping with regard to war also entails an
attempt to make the adverse situation more tolerable
or to minimize the distress via distancing, denial, and
habituation strategies used by children to manage
the negative affect generated by a traumatic encounter
(Muldoon & Cairns, 1999). Habituation may provide
one explanation for findings showing that children ex-
hibit a high level of adaptation to war and warlike situa-
tions (Klingman et al., 1993; Muldoon & Cairns, 1999).
It is also important to acknowledge that children ac-
tively and creatively engage in their situation and adopt
constructive approaches to the management of risk, and
in some cases contribute to family maintenance, protec-
tion, and survival. For example, children often bear re-
sponsibilities within the family for incapacitated adults
or younger siblings.
Much of childrens resiliency may be attributed to
certain personality factors that are known to play a part
in responding to and coping with danger. Temperamen-
tal dimensions such as the threshold for pain and pleas-
ure, valence and intensity of fear, sadness, and anger,
emotional arousal and regulation, and novelty-seeking
behavior seem to be especially salient in the course of
posttraumatic distress.
The role of parents in enhancing their childrens re-
silience must be highlighted. Family members re-
sponses and behaviors may influence young childrens
coping behaviors. Attachment-related working models
explain how children interpret and evaluate danger and
how they adjust to stressful situations (Punamaeki,
2002). There is evidence that young childrens experi-
ences within the family, particularly with their primary
caregivers, are central to subsequent coping and adapta-
tion (Muldoon & Cairns, 1999). Plausibly, parents serve
as a coping model for their children; children model
family members behaviors (e.g., their calmness)
and are influenced by their balanced or positive inter-
pretations and outlook (e.g., optimism). The parents
actual behavior in wartime and/or its aftermath proba-
bly also significantly communicates to children con-
cerning safety and optimism, which contribute to their
resilience. Moreover, war conditions may create an op-
portunity for both families and children (especially ado-
lescents) to become involved in taking care of or helping
others, at the individual level or by joining in some kind
of shared proactive, prosocial community activity. In
this way, they engage in self-fulfilling activities and ex-
perience a sense of mastery and worth.
Furthermore, response to war can be mediated through
the initiation of preventive inoculation programs, such as
stress-inoculation programs. The extended warning or
anticipatory period that usually precedes war indicates
the need for anticipatory coping strategy interventions
(Caplan, 1964), which are usually school-based in the
case of children (Klingman & Cohen, 2004). Such inter-
vention constitutes preplanned efforts to manage
reduce, minimize, master, or toleratean impending
stressful transaction. Although this anticipatory period
is extremely stressful and may require crisis intervention
assistance in itself, professionals and educators can initi-
ate anticipatory guidance programs to help children, par-
ents, teachers, schools, and the relevant community/state
agencies to better prepare, however partially, in real time
for the impending war emergencies. Such an anticipatory
intervention conducted in Israel prior to the 1991 Gulf
War focused on childrens familiarity with gas masks
and other protective measures against chemical fallout as
well as the related anxieties. This intervention was re-
ported effective (Klingman, 2002a, 2002c; Klingman &
Cohen, 2004).
The study of children in war and in war-torn zones has
led to understanding that the successful conclusion of dif-
ficult experiences can strengthen people and better pre-
pare them for new difficult experiences that are to come.
Children may not only learn to cope better: For some,
their struggle with the war ordeal may even positively
change them in the long run. In planning interventions,
professionals should not underestimate the positive re-
sources of adaptive coping, resiliency, and growth.
Community as a Context of Healing: The Shift from Clinic- to Community-Based Interventions 627
Communality and a sense of community are notable
recovery factors in wartime. Individuals undergoing the
hardships of war pull together, join ranks, and experi-
ence a greater sense of community. Individuals thus re-
solve the suffering that arises in a social context shaped
by the meanings and understandings applied to it (Sum-
merfield, 1999). Social networks such as family mem-
bers, close friends, relatives, and familiar clergy can
greatly help people create a sense of safety and meaning
under these circumstances.
Also associated with a sense of community and war
are strong feelings of patriotism and ideological commit-
ment. Some research findings (Punamaeki, 1996) indi-
cate that ideology may contribute to adolescents
successful coping. Strong ideological commitment to a
political struggle and active engagement can be protec-
tive and increase resilience, on the condition that the
childrens exposure to hardship is not overwhelming.
Furthermore, childrens, especially adolescents, at-
tempts to make sense of the conflict (e.g., the cause of
the war) may affect their mental health. It is also plausi-
ble that the political meaning they give to their mental
suffering may lead them to interpret their symptoms as
nonproblematic.
In this regard, local as well as national leadership
such as clergy, local community leaders, and teachers
play an important role in communal trauma recovery. By
definition, wars affect entire communities, and there is
much that community and state leaders can do (e.g.,
people/children often look to them as meaning makers),
especially enhancing social morale. Although basically
strong, leaders may become overburdened (if not over-
whelmed) by the pressing needs of others in their com-
munity, so psychologists need to reach out to these
individuals and give them the message that leaders must
attend to their own needs as well (Hobfoll et al., 1991).
Considering the roles that communality, ideological
commitment, and leadership play in times of war and re-
covery, it can be argued, as in Israel during the 1991
Gulf War, that the nonwar traditional therapeutic ap-
proach, with its focus on pathology and its emphasis on
personal (as opposed to societal) recovery and well-
being and its professed neutrality of values, may be in-
appropriate, even damaging, in times of war (Solomon,
1995). Interventionists must consider the collective ca-
pacity of survivor populations to mourn, endure, and re-
build, as well as individuals capacity to cope and
engage in self-healing, that is, to manage their suffering,
adapt, recover, and in some cases even grow (Klingman
& Cohen, 2004; Summerfield, 1999). The therapists
role is thus not to first focus on or look for proofs of
pathological response but to consider the natural human
ability to self-recover, change, develop, and grow from
adversity. The best immediate intervention may have a
social focus (Farwell & Cole, 20012002; Wessely,
2003), centering on the empowerment of the recovery
environments (i.e., social healing) as well as of personal
resources (e.g., resiliency, strengths, benefit finding,
and growth), which should take precedence. This ap-
proach has implications for both the natural recovery
process and direct psychological interventions with war-
affected children.
Children of war, then, undergo a variety of experi-
ences, necessitating an array of carefully planned inter-
vention programs (in variable war settings) to meet
their diverse needs. Large-scale interventions should be
the method of choice, and such interventions must be
community-based, multifaceted, and generic in nature.
To implement this, clinical psychology and community
psychology should collaborate and complement one an-
other, focusing on the benefits of a multisystemic ap-
proach to trauma due to its greater psychological
impact, professional richness, and cost effectiveness.
COMMUNITY AS A CONTEXT OF
HEALING: THE SHIFT FROM CLINIC- TO
COMMUNITY-BASED INTERVENTIONS
Much of the current emphasis in the war-related trauma
intervention literature lies on targeting and reducing
PTSD. However, PTSD is not the only psychological con-
sequence of war for youth. Also in war, and often
in immediate postwar circumstances, any individual-
focused intervention is impractical because both thera-
pists and clients are preoccupied with safety and sur-
vival issues. In addition, although victims of war indeed
experience acute symptoms and become distressed,
these are not necessarily dysfunctional or indicative of a
clinical disorder. Most children experiencing difficulties
during war eventually adjust, given the availability of
certain personal factors, coping patterns, and recovery-
environment factors. Even for those whose basic ability
to function is blocked, so that clinical labels may indeed
be appropriate and helpful, it is possible that PTSD is
628 Children and War Trauma
substantially overdiagnosed. In certain cases, this clini-
cal concept has perhaps been stretched beyond any value
by confusing psychiatric disorder with acute but, under
the circumstances, normal distress (Wessely, 2003).
More important, clinical treatment of the individual may
not be required because the distress reactions relate to a
social situation affecting a whole population. Cultural
factors play an important role in individual or group ex-
pression of stress reactions, vulnerability to developing
PTSD, and treatment responsiveness. Regarding the lat-
ter, certain cultures may evidence strong resistance by
parents and children alike to mental health professionals
or even to the entire concept of mental health interven-
tion. Conversely, cultural routines, traditions, and rituals
embedded in a particular culture may better aid dis-
tressed and traumatized persons who belong to that cul-
ture by defining helpful societal, culture-dependent
pathways to recovery.
Accordingly, an expanded view of psychopathology
and posttraumatic adaptation (Klingman & Cohen,
2004) advocates the consideration of childrens current
and potential ability to adapt to the new situation, to in-
vest in age-appropriate activities, and to self-recover.
This more general emphasis on the implications of the
war considers not only aspects of the acute traumatic ex-
perience, but also a range of psychological and socioen-
vironmental risk and protective factors related to the
pretrauma, peritrauma, and posttrauma ecologies.
Multiple factors do influence childrens response to
war. Some involve aspects of the environment, which
may be more distal or more proximal to the individual
child, and others lie within the individual child. Cic-
chetti and colleagues (1997) suggested an ecological
transactional perspective for relating to intervention
with war-affected children. The models several co-
occurring levels in depicting the childs war-affected
environment is useful for understanding how the multi-
ple risk and resilience factors described in the earlier
sections can influence childrens responses to war. In
referring to the macrosystem, which includes the beliefs
and values of a people/culture, these authors asserted
that ideological commitment may be one important pro-
tective factor. For example, children with a strong ideo-
logical commitment who were exposed to war-related
hardships did not show an increase in symptoms of anxi-
ety, insecurity, and depression, whereas those who re-
vealed weak ideological commitment showed a nonlinear
increase in symptoms (Punamaeki, 1996). In referring
to aspects of the community in which families and indi-
viduals live, namely, the exosystem, Cicchetti et al.
noted that fragmentation of community resources may
place children at increased risk for psychological dis-
tress at times of war. Such are disrupted peer networks,
which may result in the absence of one important source
of social support for the children, and interrupted
schooling, which might result in alienating an important
base of continuity for many children. These authors then
referred to the microsystem, namely, the immediate set-
ting in which the child exists: the familys level of adap-
tation in general, the parents in particular, and how
they cope specifically with the stress of war. Parents
level of adaptation can become one critical factor in de-
termining how the individual child responds to the
trauma of war. As for the ontogenic developmental level,
namely, factors within the individual connected to his or
her own development and adaptation, Cicchetti et al.
pinpointed the role played by the childs affect regula-
tion, attachment patterns, self-management, peer rela-
tions, and other extrafamilial relationships (e.g., school
participation) in the childs adaptation process. This
ecological model provides the rationale for an ecologi-
cally informed, multisystemic intervention.
Multisystemic intervention refers to the active mutual
interdependence of an individual childs self system
(e.g., self-esteem, ego identity, affect regulation, tem-
perament) and its sustaining environment: the immedi-
ate nuclear family, the extended family, the community
(structures, organizations, and services), and the soci-
ety at large, including policies at the city, county, state,
and federal levels of government, especially those
underlying national and international psychological
trauma intervention programs (Klingman & Cohen,
2004; Parson, 1996; Summerfield, 1999). Thus, inter-
vention planners can direct their efforts at three levels.
One is the childs direct experience of the violent war
event, or series of events, or their results. The second
level relates to the link between family functioning and
childrens adaptation; it includes difficulties in family
members functioning (e.g., due to loss of home and/or
economic resources), their psychological availability for
support, and the meanings given by them to the violent
acts. The third, societal level concerns the wars impact
on fundamental routines, on community resources, and
on the mediating capacity of the broader social mecha-
nisms. For children, as described earlier, the societal
level of war may involve closure of schools, restrictions
on social and recreational activities, and temporary un-
availability of psychological and welfare services.
Community as a Context of Healing: The Shift from Clinic- to Community-Based Interventions 629
Conducted within the natural ecology of the youth
and family (e.g., home, school, and community), coordi-
nated interventions that are enacted simultaneously in
more than one system exert a much stronger impact on
recovery than does the cumulative impact of separate
interventions. They target key factors within and be-
tween the multiple systems in which the child is embed-
ded. The prime objective is to reactivate/mobilize the
resourcefulness of children, their parents, other care-
givers (e.g., teachers), and the community (including the
sociopolitical community as a significant context). Such
an approach does not view the impact of war as simply
impinging on children who are passive recipients of en-
vironmental factors; rather, childrens responses will
vary as a function of their personal resources, the avail-
ability and quality of their support system, and their ef-
forts at processing the war-related effects. Strong
emphasis is placed on preventive strategies and tech-
niques, adapted to massive use.
The multisystemic intervention may require a mental
health professional to assume several roles: as a consul-
tant to the community, as a coordinator of organizational
interventions focused on mental health, and often as a
supervisor to ensure that triage and risk screening are
well coordinated and conducted in line with the generic
approach. These roles may necessitate a temporary de-
parture from the intervention mode usually practiced.
Given the reality of war, the psychologist as a consultant
must often take a proactive-directive approach, such as
adopting a unilateral (rather than shared), coercive-
directive consultation approach (Gutkin, 1999), often re-
lying on his or her own judgment when recommending
steps to be taken or when choosing among intervention
strategy options.
Psychological intervention must thus be community-
based and informed politically, socially, and culturally.
This means initiating large-scale preventive measures,
relating to the common responses, and first and fore-
most working for an adaptive resolution of the crises of
the war and the postwar period. In other words, inter-
vention should adopt a generic approach.
A primary tenet of the generic approach is that certain
recognized patterns of response and recovery exist for all
(or most) people in crisis, such as process components of
grief and bereavement. A specific generic intervention
plan should be designed to be effective for all members of
the affected population, or a given group, rather than for
the particular attributes of one individual, and should aim
at an adaptive resolution of the trauma. In addition, such a
plan should emphasize positive psychology with a
minimum of clinical therapeutic interference. The
generic approach maintains that an individual-focused
approachunderscoring the childs unique, diverse in-
trapsychic and interpersonal processes, needs, and diffi-
cultiescan always be initiated later for individuals who
fail to respond to generic measures, thus complementing
the initial generic intervention. One noted advantage of
the generic approach is its feasibility: This mode of inter-
vention can be learned and implemented by paraprofes-
sionals and non-mental health professionals. In practice,
generic intervention focuses on supporting children as
they attempt to regain control by providing opportunities
for ventilation, offering age-appropriate information, and
training children in simple techniques of stress/symptom
reduction (e.g., relaxation exercises), preferably in the
childs natural setting of home, school, or community.
Also, caregivers receive assistance in setting limited re-
covery goals relevant to any situation and in tailoring
proactive, meaningful, age-related, solution-focused ac-
tivities for the children, as much as possible within the
specific circumstances.
The following are optimal generic intervention
principles:
Immediacy ensures that measures are taken as soon as
possible to prevent hiatuses that would deepen the
sense of disruption.
Proximity maintains children in a familiar setting
with their regular caretakers and prefers intervening
in the natural setting.
Simplicity advocates avoidance of sophisticated inter-
vention methods, establishment of limited and clear
goals, and employment of situation-specific, easy-to-
implement recovery activities such as ventilation, re-
laxation, and support.
Expectancy establishes confidence in personal as well
as communal ability to recover.
Sense of community enhances feelings of belongingness.
Purposeful action espouses being active to serve as a
powerful counterresponse to a sense of helplessness.
Finally, the continuity principle (Klingman & Cohen,
2004; Omer & Alon, 1994) is the unifying generic guid-
ing principle. To counteract the extreme disruptions in
everyday personal and community life triggered by war
(or any large-scale disaster), this principle holds that the
optimal intervention measures constitute preserving and
630 Children and War Trauma
restoring disrupted continuities at the individual, famil-
ial, and organizational /community levels of a personal
( historical), functional, and interpersonal nature.
Cognitive and emotional working-through restores per-
sonal continuity by exploring what has happened, ascrib-
ing meaning to it, reframing the present situation, and
setting modest, situation-specific, personal goals/tasks
for the near future. Situation-relevant external action
reestablishes functional continuity by starting to act,
even if on a very elementary level, and gradually broad-
ening the scope and complexity of functioning. Activat-
ing (or reinstituting) mutual support and reestablishing
trust in others aids in restoring interpersonal continuity.
Normally, progress in any one of these continuities fa-
cilitates progress in others by a ripple effect. The
generic approach serves best in cases of massive inter-
vention for survivors of war and political strife.
Organizational continuity and continuity of care can
both be added to the continuity principle. Organiza-
tional continuity entails the restoration of the connec-
tions between children and their natural community, in
which they can resume their prewar roles. Regarding
childrens needs, the restoration and reorganization of
school is the most important and highest priority (Kling-
man & Cohen, 2004). Identifying, reactivating, and em-
powering prewar societal institutions and especially
nonstigmatizing, school-based services may signifi-
cantly enhance a sense of control and expectation of a
return to normalcy. This favors the reverberation of the
process of recovery even further throughout all the cir-
cles of vulnerability.
Continuity of care ideally relates to the restoration of
prewar social welfare and mental health community ser-
vices. From a mental health frame of reference, continu-
ity of care also refers to the proactive provision of a
range of accessible multimodal preventive interventions.
Specifically, mental health professionals must systemat-
ically and continually assess the development of and the
reduction in reactions and symptoms in all war-affected
children at different points in time, thus also enabling
possible identification of delayed PTSD symptoms. Pro-
fessionals must ensure that the interventions applied are
provided as long as necessary and that new ones are of-
fered as needed based on periodical assessments.
Schools offer the optimal setting for implementation of
continuity of care. In schools, all children can be sys-
tematically observed and assessed at different points in
time as well as participate directly and indirectly in pre-
ventive and other nonstigmatizing recovery programs
and activities.
+
+
+ + +
+ + +
+
+ +
+ +
+
+ +
+
+
ing may help to acquaint children with the dominant
American culture, knowledge of which is instrumental
in American schools.
Our interpretation is that the inverse associations
represent both the selective media use of young persons
less likely to do well in school and some influence of tel-
evision on scholastic achievement. We would divide the
variance about equally, with slightly more allocated to
the former than to the latter. We constructed a mock
path analysis synthesizing the outcomes of many studies
(Figure 20.4).
There have been two analyses of data (Gaddy, 1986;
Gortmaker et al., 1990) that seemingly cast doubt on
these conclusions, in which a decidedly negative associ-
ation between amount of viewing and achievement ap-
pears to vanish when other variables are controlled. Yet,
in both cases, the dependent variable is so truncated in
the potential for an association with viewing that none
could be expected. In Gaddys case, it is the use of a
change in grades over the last 2 years of high school and
an earlier measure of viewing. In the case of Gortmaker
and colleagues, it is the use of measures of intelligence
and achievement that are so high in test-retest reliability
that they represent traits rather than a changeable state
of scholastic achievement.
Selective Media Use
Socioeconomic status and mental ability are both in-
versely associated with viewing and positively associ-
ated with scholastic performance (notice the rankings
by socioeconomic status in Figure 20.3). This leads to
the expectation that those who view greater amounts of
television will perform less well in school. Stressful cir-
cumstances and lack of mental and physical well-being
predict greater use of television, and these same factors
predict lower achievement in school. These patterns have
persisted for more than 5 decades, and their present-day
validity is attested to by the recent large-scale national
survey of Roberts and Foehr (2004), where television
viewing on the part of young people was inversely asso-
ciated with academic achievement and positively associ-
ated with psychological and social discontent.
830 Media and Popular Culture
Televisions Contribution
We conclude that there are three processes by which
viewing affects scholastic performance: interference,
displacement, and the nurturing of self-defeating tastes
and preferences.
Interference. The undertaking of homework, as-
signed reading, or reading for pleasure while monitoring
television programming may somewhat debase these ex-
periences. Several experiments document that homework-
like cognitive processing tasks are performed with lower
quality or at longer times to completion when there is an
operating television set in the background, and this
seems to be particularly so for television that presents an
interesting narrative (Armstrong, 1993; Armstrong, Bo-
jarsky, & Mares, 1991; Armstrong & Greenburg, 1990;
Pool, van der Voort, Beentjes, & Koolstra, 2000).
Fetler (1984), in a large CAP follow-up, found a small
negative association between homework regularly done in
front of an operating television set and scholastic
achievement: about one-fourth that for amount of viewing
(negative) and one-seventh that for amount of home-
work (positive). In a Dutch sample of more than 1,000
second and fourth graders, Koolstra and van der Voort
(1996) found that greater viewing resulted in lower
mental effort when reading, after statistically controlling
for mental ability (which could have offered an alterna-
tive explanation for both greater viewing and lower
effort). The tendency for viewing and reading to become
positively correlated as young people grow older
(CAP, 1980; Morgan, 1980) is thus actually somewhat
ominous, because it implies less concentration and less
demanding reading material. Finally, the sample of more
than 28,000 seniors examined by Keith et al. (1986) sug-
gests that for those who view for average amounts of
time, there is no serious conflict between the blocks of
time that could be allocated to homework and television
viewing. This is because only modest amounts of home-
work typically were assigned. Nevertheless, time spent on
homework was a predictor of scholastic performance, and
parental interest and involvement was a predictor of
greater time spent on homework (which may merely indi-
cate that those with discipline and motive do better in
school, with time spent on homework an outcome rather
than a cause).
The more wide-sweeping and damning allegation that
television viewing interferes not just at the moment that
homework is being done but in a more insidious and
long-term manner by generally reducing childrens abil-
ity to concentrate and focus their attention has received
less research support. One of the few studies to bring
data to bear on this frequent complaint was published
recently in Pediatrics and uses the National Longitudi-
nal Survey of Youth to examine hyperactivity and televi-
sion viewing (Christakis, Zimmerman, DiGiuseppe, &
McCarty, 2004). Hyperactivity was measured using a
subscale of the Behavioral Problems Index (covering
such indicators as difficulty concentrating, impulsivity,
obsessiveness, confusion, and restlessness) among 7-
year-olds in the data, and estimates of their television
exposure when they were toddlers (1 and 3 years of age)
were obtained from the reports of their mothers. Em-
ploying numerous covariates (including, but not limited
to, demographic characteristics, number of parents and
siblings in the home, measures of cognitive stimulation
such as reading and playing, and parental emotional sup-
port such as communication with parents), number of
hours of television viewing at ages 1 and 3 was a signifi-
cant predictor of attention problems at age 7. However,
the lack of additional research to join this investigation,
as well as limitations to the present study pointed out by
both its authors (Christakis et al., 2004) and others in
letters to the editor of Pediatrics (Bertholf & Goodison,
2004; Obel et al., 2004)including the classification of
those 1.2 standard deviations above the mean and higher
as having attentional difficulties, failure to account for
television content viewed, and the possibility of reverse
causationsuggest that advancing this claim with con-
viction is premature.
Displacement. The displacement hypothesis in its
more general version proposes that television may con-
sume time and attention that could be better spent on ac-
quiring the three basic skills of reading, writing, and
mathematics, although the most attention has been given
to the displacement of time that should have been spent
acquiring the rudimentary skills of reading between the
second and third grades (Chall, 1983; Comstock &
Scharrer, 1999; Williams, 1986). Reading achievement
is inversely associated with amount of time spent view-
ing (the downward sloping curve in the CAP data is a
good example). Both reading and viewing are sedentary,
so they compete for the same blocks of time (Heyns,
1976; Medrich, Roizen, Rubin, & Buckley, 1982), and
television would be an enticing alternative to the effort
required during the 2 years when reading is not for
pleasure (as it will become in the fourth grade) but the
Television Advertising 831
tiresome learning of a skill. The 4 or more hours spent
with television by 20% of young people (we use the CAP
data as an estimate) would place these children at high
risk. Similarly, the same argument would apply to writ-
ing and mathematics. In our view, the displacement
hypothesis should be expanded to a more general propo-
sition (Comstock & Scharrer, 1999, p. 259).
Television viewing is inversely related to achievement
when it displaces intellectually and experientially richer
stimuli. Viewing is positively related to achievement
when the stimuli it supplies are intellectually and expe-
rientially richer than the available alternatives.
We view displacement as having two distinct aspects.
The first is the usurpation of time that should be spent
acquiring the three basic skills, and will have lifelong
consequences for most. The second is the consumption
of time at any age that might be spent on activities that
are scholastically more productive, from reading to vis-
iting a museum (or, for that matter, going to a movie that
has aesthetic claims beyond the daily fare of television).
Tastes and Preferences. Television often has been
described as a teacher, but unhappily, primarily of the
ways of entertainment, news, sports, and commercials.
The evidence now goes quite a bit beyond this. Koolstra
and van der Voort (1996) collected data over a 2-year
period between the second and fourth grades from a
Dutch sample of more than 1,000 boys and girls. They
found that greater amounts of television viewing in the
earlier grade predicted greater reading of comic books
and attitudinal dispositions flagrantly and decidedly
hostile to the reading of books as dull and boring in
the later grade. In a similar 3-year undertaking in
the United States that ended with the students in high
school, Morgan (1980, p. 164) found that greater
amounts of viewing earlier predicted a greater liking for
television-like content, stories about love and families,
teenage stories, and true stories about stars. These two
sets of data make a strong claim on behalf of a causal
disruption of the use of print (and by extension, we
argue, other demanding media, such as computers and
the Internet) because the findings survive statistical
controls for numerous other variables, including mental
ability (crucial in this case because mental ability pre-
dicts greater viewing and lower reading ability and thus
would be the prime candidate as an alternative explana-
tion). Our conclusion is that television socializes young
people in regard to tastes and preferences in ways that
are self-defeating in regard to scholastic achievement.
Our model (Figure 20.4) assigns large roles to socioe-
conomic status, mental ability, and the household norms
about television use. We see greater amounts of televi-
sion use as having a negative effect on achievement by
reducing reading outside of assignments, by lowering the
quality of homework done in the company of an operat-
ing television set (while acknowledging that homework
with television is better than none at all), and by the so-
cialization of tastes and preferences that disdain books
that are perceived as challenging and favor the banal.
We see television viewing that is selectivethat is, in-
strumental viewingas having positive consequences
for achievement.
TELEVISION ADVERTISING
Television advertising directed at children and teenagers
is an excellent example of an area in which empirical re-
search was called on to help settle a policy issue. It has
the requisite properties to be representative in many
ways of what often transpires in the attempt to translate
science into action. These include a series of questions
on which there are disparate opinions, contentious de-
bate, and scant evidence (or even, in many cases, the cri-
teria by which to evaluate evidence); a government
agency committed to the possibility of regulatory action;
advocacy groups calling for reform confronting an in-
dustry defending the status quo; the clear enhancement
of knowledge by social research about the responses of
children and teenagers to commercials; a disconnect be-
tween the interest of the agency in formulating policy
based on research and its ability, in the existing political
context, to do so; and, finally, the emergence of some
real reforms despite the absence of new regulatory ini-
tiatives. This sequencedebate and contention, the
collecting of data, the political obfuscation of the appli-
cation of research, and some salutary changesis quite
typical of the oblique but important role of social and
behavioral science in the arena of practice.
Background
Television, introduced in the United States in the late
1940s, enjoyed its first 2 decades (during which house-
holds with television increased from essentially zero to
96%) with almost no attention given by parents, the pub-
lic, or regulatory agencies to television advertising di-
rected at children. Children, of course, have always been
832 Media and Popular Culture
a central element in various strategies for marketing tel-
evision. Very early, programming for children was con-
sidered to be an effective means of encouraging parents
to purchase sets; similar strategies are operating today,
with cable systems and premium channels offering pro-
gramming with special appeal to parents and children.
Children also were thought to be particularly influential
in what the family watched before their bedtime ( by
1960, only 12% of households had more than one set; by
the end of the decade, this figure had increased, almost
robustly, only to about 33%), and in the 1960s, ABC
used situation comedies with characters designed to be
appealing to teenagers to compete successfully with
CBS and NBC. Les Brown in his 1977 New York Times
Encyclopedia of Television (still quite useful for the pro-
grams, controversies, and personalities that marked the
mediums first 3 decades) tells the story:
Although children helped to build circulation for stations,
and good will for the new television medium, they were
not initially perceived as a major marketing group for
products. Television was considered too high-priced for
child-oriented products in the 50s and early 60s when the
single or dual sponsorship of programs was the rule. But a
number of factors converged around 1965 to make chil-
drens programs a major profit center of networks: first,
the proliferation of multiset households, which broke up
family viewing and loosened the childs control over the
program his or her parents would watch; second, the drift
to participation advertising as opposed to full sponsor-
ships, which encouraged more advertisers to use the
medium; and third, the discovery that a relatively pure
audience of children could be corralled on Saturday morn-
ings (and to a lesser extent on Sundays) where air time was
cheaper, advertising quotas were wide open and children
could be reached by the devices used years before by
comic books.
By the late 60s television programming aimed at chil-
dren was confined, with few exceptions, to Saturday
mornings in the form of animated cartoons. Moreover, the
animation studios developed a form of limited animation
for the undiscriminating youngsters, involving fewer
movements per second, which was cheaper than standard
animation. Recognizing that children enjoy the familiar,
the networks played each episode of a series six times
over 2 years, substantially reducing costs. And while
prime time programs, under the Television Code, permit-
ted 9.5 commercial minutes per hour, Saturday morning
childrens shows carried as many as 16 commercial min-
utes per hour. Citizens groups did not become aroused,
however, until the networks began to deal excessivelyin
their competitive zealwith monsters, grotesque super-
heroes and gratuitous violence to win the attention of
youngsters. Advertisers, by then, were making the
most of the gullibility of children by pitching sugar-
coated cereals, candy-coated vitamins and expensive toys.
(pp. 8283)
Commercials directed specifically at children . . . be-
came a highly controversial aspect of television, raising
questions of the morality of subjecting children to sophis-
ticated advertising techniques. In the 70s consumer
groups began protesting the differing commercial stan-
dards for children and adults, as well as other allegedly
abusive practices, among them promoting nutritionally
inadequate foods, using program hosts as salesmen,
tempting purchases by offering premiums, and advertis-
ing expensive toys in a deceptive manner. (pp. 8182)
The best known of the advocacy groups was Action
for Childrens Television, led by the indefatigable Peggy
Charren and headquartered in a suburb of Boston. ACT,
now disbanded ( but hardly yet forgotten), asserted that
advertising to children distorted and lowered the quality
of programming aimed at them by making audience at-
tractiveness to advertisers rather than child development
the foundation on which programs were designed; these
commercially attractive shows undeniably would seek
large audiences varying in age rather than the smaller
audiences that programs tailored to the narrower inter-
ests and needs of specific age groups would attract.
ACT also argued that young children could not under-
stand the self-interest behind commercials, making
them by definition deceptive. Press coverage, com-
plaints to broadcasters, and petitions to the FCC and the
Federal Trade Commission (FTC) created an atmo-
sphere favorable to some conciliatory response by broad-
casters and advertisers fearful of government regulation
or public hostility.
One of the effects of this activity was the nurturing
of a considerable amount of research on television ad-
vertising directed at children and teenagers. Another,
eventually, was a series of hearings by the FTC in con-
junction with the FCC on the possibility of rule making.
Three Topics
It is no accident that the voluminous citations of re-
search articles bear dates almost wholly subsequent
to the public emergence of the controversy. This is an
instance in which research on questions of child devel-
opment sought to answer questions of public policy
and industry practice. Although many issues were pur-
Television Advertising 833
sued, most of the research addressed three broad topics
(Comstock, 1991a):
1. Recognizing and understanding commercials
2. Degree of persuasion achieved by commercials
3. Exchanges between parents and offspring
In effect, the issues were deception, influence, and the
disruption of parental authority or, at least, comfort.
Recognition and understanding present a clear pic-
ture. Several studies document that very young children,
as young as 3 years of age, usually can recognize that a
commercial is different from or at least not a seamless
part of the accompanying program (Butter, Popovich,
Stackhouse, & Garner, 1981; Levin, Petros, & Petrella,
1982; P. Zuckerman & Gianinno, 1981), although it is
probably not until about age 5 that most children can
make this distinction without some confusion, such as
correctly applying the term commercial but thinking
of the commercial as a part of the program (Kunkel,
2001). Performance is similar on another measure of
recognition in these same studies: matching characters
from commercials with the products they advertise. For
example, P. Zuckerman and Gianinno showed 64 4-, 7-,
and 10-year-olds photos of animated characters from
either commercials or programs. Most at all ages could
identify those associated with products and match the
characters with the products they represented. However,
understanding is a very different matter.
Under the age of 8, a majority do not fully under-
stand the motivated purpose of a commercial as a self-
interested vehicle intended to benefit the advertiser by
gaining the compliance, eventually if not immediately,
of a consumer. Blosser and Roberts (1985) present the
definitive evidence. They showed 90 children varying in
age from preschool to fourth grade five different kinds
of televised messages: commercials aimed at children
and at adults, news, educational programming, and pub-
lic service announcements. The researchers then ap-
plied three measures of understanding: comprehending
the content, labeling the message correctly, and articu-
lating accurately the messages purpose and character.
When the criterion for commercials was the recognition
that they presented items that could be purchased, more
than half under the age of 7 understood what a com-
mercial was. When the criterion was articulating self-
interested persuasive intent, it was not until age 8 that a
majority could be said to understand commercials.
News was correctly described earliest across all mea-
sures; this makes the important point that it is not a
matter of exposure, which would be greater for commer-
cials, but the cognitive concept of self-interested per-
suasion that is the problem.
The brilliant experiment by Gentner (1975) provides
insight into why this is the case. She inventively asked
children varying in age from 3.5 to 8.5 to dramatize a
series of verbs using two puppets from Sesame Street:
have, give, take, sell, buy, and spend. Give and take
were largely understood by even the youngest, but these
same youngest did not comprehend buy and sell.
Comprehension of buy and sell of course increased
with age, and for those between 7.5 and 8.5 reached 95%
for buy and 65% for sell. Gentners interpretation,
with which we concur, is that selling is too complicated,
with its many steps culminating in an exchange of
goods, for early comprehension, whereas buying is
something children typically see their parents engage in
often (and often enjoy the benefits of ), and giving and
taking are experienced quite early, in both cases with
toys and food.
The evidence on persuasiveness is equally clear.
Commercials are quite effective in directing childrens
choices of products within a category but less effective
in switching preferences from one genre to another.
Product choices have been shown to be influenced by
endorsements by liked or respected figures quite apart
from any other aspect of a commercial (Ross et al.,
1984). The heavy toy and game advertising leading up
to Christmas by the end of the shopping season was
found to shift choices toward the advertised products,
in effect eroding defenses against persuasion (decreas-
ing critical attitudes toward advertising) and prefer-
ences for other items among 290 first-, third-, and
fifth-grade children (Rossiter & Robertson, 1974). A
dissertation (R. S. Rubin, 1972) even queried 72 first-,
third-, and sixth-grade children about their recall for
products and premiums and found that at all ages the
premium was better recalled than the product name and
vied quite successfully with the product in being per-
ceived as what the viewer was supposed to want. Later,
Shimp, Dyer, and Divita (1976) would report a modest
but positive correlation between brand choice and lik-
ing for a premium, and Atkin (1975a, 1975b, 1978)
reported that a large majority (about three-fourths) of
a sample of mothers of children from preschool to
fifth grade said that premiums had been specifically
mentioned by their children in asking for cereals.
One out of 10 childrens product requests recorded
834 Media and Popular Culture
surreptitiously in supermarket aisles included specific
mention of a premium.
Food selections have repeatedly been demonstrated
to be influenced by exposure to commercials at all ages
(Galst & White, 1976; Goldberg, Gorn, & Gibson, 1978;
Gorn & Goldberg, 1982; Meringoff, 1980; Stoneman &
Brody, 1981; Story & French, 2004). Between half and
two-thirds of commercials directed at children are for
food-related products (Kotz & Story, 1994; Taras &
Gage, 1995). An effect on selection holds primarily for
selections within a genre, exemplified by the selection
of one brand or option rather than another. For example,
Gorn and Goldberg found among 288 children ranging in
age from 5 to 8, exposure over a 2-week period to com-
mercials for orange juice or candy could shift choices
away from Kool-aid or fruit, but Galst (1980) found
among 3- to 6-year-olds that commercials for nutritional
foods did not shift choices unless followed by advice
from a live adult. Thus, children can be persuaded to
change the means by which they satisfy a preference but
not the preference.
The data on parent-child interaction are not quite so
clear. There are two reasons. The data focus on three
topics: childrens requests for products, parental yield-
ing, and intemperate responses from the child when
yielding does not occur. These do not lend themselves
to straightforward measurement, as do recognizing or
understanding commercials and the shift of product
choices toward an advertised item, and we are largely
left with proportions of children or parents saying re-
quests, yielding, or displays of temper occur often,
sometimes, or seldom, so that precise estimates are not
available. Furthermore, for none of these three measures
is there a recognized criterion or threshold that signals
trouble or pathology other than that most would agree
that repeated tantrums by the same child probably de-
serves some attention. Yet, these very concerns are at
the heart of any interest in parent-child interaction in re-
gard to television commercialsthat they disrupt the or-
derly process of parenting and make it less effective ( by
widening childrens options while limiting those of par-
ents) or tranquil ( by contributing to the dissatisfaction
of children and disputes between parents and children).
However, the data do permit some conclusions. Chil-
dren certainly do regularly ask for products as a conse-
quence of seeing them advertised on television. Atkin
(1975b) reported that among 440 children ranging from
preschool to fifth grade, those who were classified as
heavy viewers said they asked for products a lot,
whereas the figure for light viewers was about half the
frequency of requests. Isler, Popper, and Ward (1987)
found that one-sixth of the purchase requests of children
between 3 and 11 were attributed to television advertis-
ing by a sample of 260 mothers, although the requests
declined decidedly as children grew older. Yielding also
is highly frequent. Parental reports of yielding to cereal
requests ranged from 87% to 62% in different samples
(Atkin, 1975b; Ward & Wackman, 1972; W. D. Wells &
LoScuito, 1966) and decline as the purchase from the
genre becomes less obligatory or of less direct interest to
the child. For example, Ward and Wackman found that
yielding declined steadily as a function of those two
variables: from cereal (87%), snack foods (63%), games
and toys (54%), candy (42%), toothpaste (39%), sham-
poo (16%), to a mere 7% for dog food. This descending
order represents childrens interest in the product and
the recognition by parents of the legitimacy of that in-
terest. Both would increase with greater efforts to mar-
ket products to children, so we would expect toothpastes
and shampoos to rank higher today, with their packaging
emblazoned with television characters popular with
children. We think the best data on yielding are those of
Atkins (1978) supermarket aisle study of 516 sets of
parents and children ages 3 to 12 because they trace the
process from purchase initiatives by both children and
parents (Figure 20.5). The child initiated interactions
two-thirds of the time, and more than two-thirds of
these were classified as demands. About two-thirds of
the time a parent yielded to a demand or request; the fig-
ure for rejecting was less than half that.
Disputes between parents and children and the anger
of children at the refusal of a request are plagued by the
same problems of measurement and interpretation. Nev-
ertheless, we can say that such occurrences are not rare.
For example, Atkin (1975a, 1975b) found in one sample
of children that one out of five said they became angry
a lot when toy requests were denied, and one out of
six said they argued a lot in response to such denials.
In his observational study of parents and children in su-
permarket aisles, Atkin recorded that two-thirds of de-
nials (occurring at a rate of 18%) evoked anger, and
one-half induced disappointment.
Enter the National Science Foundation and the
Federal Trade Commission
In the late 1970s, the National Science Foundation
(NSF) took the extraordinary step of commissioning a
review of this burgeoning literature to serve as the evi-
dentiary foundation for possible rule making by the FCC
Television Advertising 835
Figure 20.5 Parent-child supermarket aisle interaction over breakfast cereal. Source: Adapted from Observations of Parent-
Child Interaction in Supermarket Decisionmaking, by C. K. Atkin, 1978, Journal of Marketing, 42, pp. 4145. Reprinted with
permission.
Child Parent
Agrees
(19%)
Agrees
(7%)
Selects
(21%)
Declines
(2%)
Denies
(2%)
Rejects
outright
(12%)
Suggests
alternative
(2%)
Agrees
(1%)
Denies
(1%)
Directs
selection
(11%)
Invites
selection
(23%)
Parent
initiates
(34%)
Parent
Agrees
(12%)
Denies outright
(6%)
Suggests alternative
(2%)
Yields
(30%)
Rejects outright
(12%)
Suggests alternative
(4%)
Request
(20%)
Demand
(46%)
Child
initiates
(66%)
and the FTC. This was a brave attempt to resolve the
conjunction of new issues and new science. This
painstaking effort, under the direction of Richard P.
Adler, stands as a landmark in the literature on televi-
sion advertising and children and eventually was pub-
lished commercially in 1980 as The Ef fect of Television
Advertising on Children (Adler et al., 1980), although an
earlier version first appeared from the U.S. Government
Printing Office in 1977. Its major conclusions matched
those we have reported:
Children at a very early age can recognize that a com-
mercial is different from the program accompanying
it, but it is not until much later that they can articu-
lateand, in our view, be said to understandthe na-
ture of commercials.
836 Media and Popular Culture
The techniques employed by commercials are very
successful in persuading children to desire advertised
products, and this is particularly so for foods.
Purchase requests are common, yielding is typical,
and dissatisfied children and parent-child disputes
are not rare.
In response to the report, in 1978 the FTC proposed
to ban or limit advertising to children. This raised some
interesting questions. Would childrens entertainment
disappear from the air if it were not supported by adver-
tising? Would the FCC be willing to require such pro-
gramming without supportive advertising, in effect
placing a childrens tax on broadcasters (as ACT ad-
vocated)? If limits rather than a ban were imposed,
what would be the parameters (in the sense of what
would qualify as a consumer product or slice of the
broadcast schedule for targeting)? Extensive hearings
followed, but economic power and political influence
eliminated the need to address these issues. Kunkel
(2001, pp. 387388) tells the story succinctly:
The painstaking level of detail the FTC pursued in mar-
shaling its supporting evidence contrasted sharply with a
serious miscalculation about the extent of the political op-
position to its proposal (Kunkel & Watkins, 1987). The
broadcasting and advertising industries were joined by
many of Americas largest corporate conglomerates in op-
posing the ban. These businesses owned subsidiaries pro-
ducing toys, sugared cereals, and numerous other types of
child-oriented merchandise. Fearing adverse impacts on
their profits, these industries initiated campaigns to influ-
ence the public to oppose the ban. A key element of their
strategy was the claim of First Amendment protection
for the right to provide information about products to
Americas budding consumers.
The FTCs formal rule-making process for implement-
ing the proposed ban moved forward. Open hearings were
held. Elaborate briefs assessing the research evidence re-
garding childrens comprehension of advertising were
submitted by all sides. On this front, the forces seeking
regulation fared reasonably well. Although some inevitable
qualifications were lodged, a consensus emerged among
researchers that young children were indeed uniquely vul-
nerable to televisions commercial claims and appeals.
At the same time, however, a much different outcome
was occurring on other fronts of the political battle. Using
their influence with elected officials, the FTCs corporate
opponents succeeded in derailing the agencys proposal,
employing an innovative strategy. Responding to corporate
pressure, Congress rescinded the agencys authority to re-
strict advertising deemed unfair by enacting legislation
ironically titled the FTC Improvements Act of 1980. Be-
sides removing this aspect of the FTCs jurisdiction, the
act specifically prohibited any further action to adopt the
proposed childrens advertising rules. The agency soon is-
sued a final ruling on the case formally implementing the
congressional mandate (FTC, 1981), and since then there
has been no further effort to resurrect this initiative.
Reforms and Subsequent Research
The consequences of these eventspublic displeasure,
the rise of advocacy groups, new research in child devel-
opment, the NSF review, the FTC rule-making hear-
ingswere a series of significant reforms (Comstock,
1991a). The discrepancy between amount of nonpro-
gram material on childrens and primetime television
was eliminated (and more recently was set by the Chil-
drens Television Act of 1990 at no more per hour than
10.5 minutes on weekends and 12 minutes on week-
days). Advertising of vitamins branded and packaged to
appeal to children as if they were breakfast cereals was
ended. Restraints were placed on the use of television
storyline characters in advertising (although only half-
heartedly; so-called host-selling was barred accompany-
ing the program in which the character appeared but
permitted in commercials accompanying other pro-
grams; hosts only had to take a hike). Industry codes
were strengthened. Bumpers or separators before and
after commercials were adopted to aid identification, al-
though research indicates these have been largely inef-
fective (Comstock, 1991a; Kunkel, 2001).
Subsequent research has turned away from these is-
sues of possible harm toward a topic that also was pur-
sued earlier: the cognitive processing of commercials,
and in particular, the characteristics of commercials that
lead to a favorable response from a child (Greer, Potts,
Wright, & Huston, 1982; John, 1999; Macklin, 1988;
Wartella & Ettema, 1974; Wartella & Hunter, 1983).
John neatly summarizes the cognitive changes that take
place in young people as they mature (Table 20.1), using
a Piagetian schema (we have substituted adjacent years
for the overlapping ones in the original but have retained
the somewhat earlier transition to a more advanced
stage because we agree that advertising, while certainly
involving many subtleties in its messages, does not im-
pose as severe demands on formal reasoning as occurs
in many other topics where cognitive stages predict
and constrainsuccess at a task). Examples include the
shift from approval to skepticism without much in the
837
TABLE 20.1 Responses to Advertising by Cognitive Stage
Topic Perceptual Stage, 37 Years Analytical Stage, 811 Years Ref lective Stage, 1216 Years
Advertising knowledge Can distinguish ads from
programs based on perceptual
features
Believe ads are truthful, funny,
and interesting
Positive attitudes toward ads
Can distinguish ads from
programs based on persuasive
intent
Believe ads lie and contain bias
and deceptionbut do not use
these cognitive defenses
Negative attitudes toward ads
Understand persuasive intent of
ads as well as specific ad tactics
and appeals
Believe ads lie and know how to
spot specific instances of bias or
deception in ads
Skeptical attitudes toward ads
Transaction knowledge:
Product and brand
knowledge
Can recognize brand names and
beginning to associate them with
product categories
Perceptual cues used to identify
product categories
Beginning to understand symbolic
aspects of consumption based on
perceptual features
Egocentric view of retail stores as
a source of desired items
Increasing brand awareness,
especially for child-relevant
product categories
Underlying or functional cues
used to define product categories
Increased understanding of
symbolic aspects of consumption
Understand retail stores are
owned to sell goods and make a
profit
Substantial brand awareness for
adult-oriented as well as child-
relevant product categories
Underlying or functional cues
used to define product categories
Sophisticated understanding of
consumption symbolism for
product categories and brand
names
Understanding and enthusiasm for
retail stores
Shopping knowledge and
skills
Understand sequence of events in
the basic shopping script
Value of products and prices based
on perceptual features
Shopping scripts more complex,
abstract , and with contingencies
Prices based on theories of value
Complex and contingent shopping
scripts
Prices based on abstract
reasoning, such as input variations
and buyer preferences
Decision-making skills
and abilities:
Information search
Limited awareness of information
sources
Focus on perceptual attributes
Emerging ability to adapt to cost-
benefit trade-offs
Increased awareness of personal
and mass media sources
Gather information on functional
as well as perceptual attributes
Able to adapt to cost-benefit
trade-offs
Contingent use of different
information sources depending on
product or situation
Gather information on functional,
perceptual, and social aspects
Able to adapt to cost-benefit
trade-offs
Product evaluation Use of perceptually salient
attribute information
Use of single attributes
Focus on important attribute
informationfunctional and
perceptual attributes
Use two or more attributes
Focus on important attribute
informationfunctional,
perceptual, and social aspects
Use multiple attributes
Consumption motives and
values: Materialism
Value of possessions based on
surface features, such as having
more of something
Emerging understanding of value
based on social meaning and
significance
Fully developed understanding of
value based on social meaning,
significance, and scarcity
Purchase inf luence and
negotiation strategies
Use direct requests and emotional
appeals
Limited ability to adapt strategy
to person or situation
Expanded repertoire of strategies,
with bargaining and persuasion
emerging
Developing abilities to adapt
strategy to persons and situations
Full repertoire of strategies, with
bargaining and persuasion as
favorites
Capable of adapting strategies
based on perceived effectiveness
for persons or situations
Decision strategies Limited repertoire of strategies
Emerging ability to adapt
strategies to tasksusually need
cues to adapt
Increased repertoire of strategies,
especially noncompensatory ones
Capable of adapting strategies to
tasks
Full repertoire of strategies
Capable of adapting strategies to
tasks in adult-like manner
Source: Adapted from Consumer Socialization of Children: A Retrospective Look at Twenty-Five Years of Research, by D. R. John, 1999,
Journal of Consumer Research, 26, pp. 183213. Reprinted with permission.
838 Media and Popular Culture
way of effective defenses against appeals (top), the
adoption of a stance of sophisticated (if hooked) con-
sumption (middle), and the eventual awareness of the
symbolic role of products and brands ( bottom).
Children certainly are exposed to a large quantity of
commercials (Comstock & Scharrer, 1999). The average
child ages 2 to 11 sees almost 40,000 commercials a
year. Discounting for no interest in many product cate-
gories, we estimate these children would see at least
12,500 commercials for products in which they might
take an interest, with about 90% appearing outside of
childrens programming. Cereals and candies top the list
for childrens programming, followed by toys and fast
foods; in general audience programming, these are
joined by soft drinks, shoes, and clothing. Toys are the
crown princes of pre-Christmas advertising, accounting
for at least half of the commercials in childrens pro-
gramming. Teenagers 12 to 17 watch less television but
would find more products of interest (comparable fig-
ures are 27,000 commercials with an estimated 16,000
of possible interest). Thus, advertising likely will re-
main a fertile area for research, although at a slower
pace than during the heated 1970s.
VIOLENT ENTERTAINMENT
Entertainment is the type of television content most
often attended to by children and teenagers. Unambigu-
ously, the topic that has received the most attention in
child development research in regard to entertainment
(with the exception, of course, of the continuing and re-
peated measurement of audience demographics to sat-
isfy the informational needs of those who buy and sell
time slots for commercials, which unavoidably produces
data of some interest in regard to child development but
is motivated by and designed to serve the needs of mar-
keting) is violent entertainment and its effects on ag-
gressive and antisocial behavior.
Although the investigation of the influence of audio-
visual entertainment media on antisocial behavior traces
to the Payne Fund movie studies of the early 1930s
(Charters, 1933), the contemporary inquiry into this
issue dates from the early 1960s. We have constructed a
timeline displaying significant events in the empirical
examination of the possible influence of violent televi-
sion and film entertainment on aggressive and antisocial
behavior (Figure 20.6). In 1963, two pioneering experi-
ments were published in the Journal of Abnormal and
Social Psychology. In one, Bandura, Ross, and Ross
(1963a) demonstrated that nursery school children
would imitate the aggressive antics of those observed on
a television screen, including a young adult female
clothed in a cat costume intended as a faux representa-
tion of a character that might appear in childrens enter-
tainment. In the other, Berkowitz and Rawlings (1963)
demonstrated that college students would increase their
aggressiveness after exposure to an example of justified
aggression observed on a television screen. These two
investigations began an experimental literature now
numbering more than 100 exploring the various factors
on which an effect of violent television or film portray-
als on behavior are contingent. For example, Bandura,
Ross, and Ross (1963b) quickly enlarged the range of
variables in their studies of nursery school children to
include positive reinforcement or punishment of the por-
trayed behavior, with positive reinforcement on screen
increasing the likelihood of imitation. Berkowitz and
colleagues later found in their studies of college students
that cues in a portrayal matching real-life circumstances
(Berkowitz & Geen, 1966, 1967) and portrayals that de-
pict malevolent motives for aggression (Berkowitz &
Alioto, 1973; Geen & Stonner, 1972) enhanced the like-
lihood of aggressive behavior.
Enter the Surgeon General
By the end of the decade, there was enough evidence
from experiments and other research methods to lead the
National Commission on the Causes and Prevention of
Violence (1969) to conclude that there was a causal link
between exposure to violent portrayals in television en-
tertainment and aggressive and antisocial behavior. This
commission had been established by President Lyndon
Johnson as a result of the assassinations of John and
Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King and wide-
spread urban rioting in Black neighborhoods. Its judg-
ment about the media was not considered particularly
credible or important; however, the compilation of com-
missioned papers on media effects (Baker & Ball, 1969)
in academic circles was considered something of a land-
mark (and a valuable reference) for many years. Senator
John Pastore of Rhode Island then extended the concern
with the media to an investigation focused exclusively on
television. The result was the 1972 federal report Televi-
sion and Growing Up: The Impact of Televised Violence
by the Surgeon Generals Scientific Advisory Commit-
tee on Television and Social Behavior, accompanied by
839
Figure 20.6 TV violence through the ages.
* at start of each decade
TV
v
= TV violence
M
a
j
o
r
E
v
e
n
t
s
:
1933: Payne Fund studies examine children and movie-going
1946: First TV networks
Big controversy over violent comic books, but with the introduction of TV, children and teenagers
will turn away from comics (circulation plummets) and toward television
1963: Bandura, Ross, & Ross, and Berkowitz & Rawlings publish experiments--TV
v
increases
aggression among both those of nursery school and college age; catharsis defeated
1969: Commission on Causes & Prevention of Violence concludes TV
v
increases antisocial behavior
in society
1970: Commission on Obscenity and Pornography concludes erotica has no harmful effects
1972: Surgeon Generals Scientific Advisory Committee on TV & Social Behavior concludes that TV
v
increases child and teenage aggression; new evidence from surveys; Gerbner violence profiles begin
1977: Andison publishes first quantitative aggregation of studies67 studies, and for all ages and
methods there is a positive correlation between TV
v
and aggression
1978: Belson publishes monumental survey of 1,600 London teenage males; concludes severe criminal
delinquency increased by TV
v
; attitudes not the link in his data
1982: Surgeon Generals update reinforces original conclusionauthored by task force at NIMH
1986: Attorney Generals Commission on Pornography concludes demeaning portrayals of women
increase male violence against women
1986: Hearold publishes meta-analysis of 186 studiesdocuments positive association between TV
v
and aggression, and finds a symmetry for anti- and prosocial portrayals, with each positively
associated with like behavior and negatively associated with the opposite behavior
1991: Wood, Wong, & Chachere publish meta-analysis of 23 experiments in which free play was
dependent variable; TV
v
increases aggression
1994: Paik & Comstock publish meta-analysis of 214 studiesstrengthen evidence on TV
v
-aggression
1995: Allen, DAlessio, & Brezgel publish meta-analysis of erotica and aggression; biggest effect size
for violent erotica; matches Paik & Comstock
1996: Federal telecommunications actV-chip legislation; reformers win fight over descriptive
warnings vs. Hollywood age-grading
2001: Youth Violence: A Report of the Surgeon General on TV
v
between ages 611 as an early risk
factor for felony violence between ages 1518; effect size is small.
2003 (Dec.): Psychological Science in the Public Interest adjudicates evidence; concludes TV
v
facilitates aggression
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840 Media and Popular Culture
five volumes (Comstock, Rubinstein, & Murray, 1972a,
1972b, 1972c, 1972d, 1972e) representing $1 million in
new research. This enterprise substantially enlarged the
research literature. More significant, the surgeon gen-
erals committee concluded in its report that, at least for
some children, there was a causal link between exposure
to television violence and aggressive behavior.
Ten years later, the National Institute of Mental
Health assembled a special committee of social and be-
havioral scientists expert in regard to research on televi-
sion on the 10th anniversary of the original surgeon
generals report. This undertaking, known as the sur-
geon generals update, produced a committee report
accompanied by a volume of commissioned papers
covering recent research (Pearl, Bouthilet, & Lazar,
1982a, 1982b). The focus was largely on children and
teenagers, and the range of topics in regard to television
was now quite broad: cognition and affect, social beliefs
and social behavior, and family and social relations, as
well as violent portrayals and aggression. This select
committee concluded that the research of the past
decade had strengthened and reinforced the evidence on
which the original surgeon generals committee drew in
concluding that there was a causal link between expo-
sure to television violence and aggressive behavior.
In 2001, the surgeon generals report on youth vio-
lence (U.S. Department of Health and Human Services,
2001) again raised the issue of effects on aggressive and
antisocial behavior, but in a more pronounced way. Ac-
companied by a judicious evaluation of the evidence for
some effect of violent television and film portrayals on
behavior (the conclusion is that the evidence supports
such an effect, and there is speculation that newer media,
with interactivity, greater graphicness, and availability
on demand, may have stronger effects), the report incor-
porates television violence as among the factors empiri-
cally documented as causally predictive of seriously
harmful antisocial behavior. Specifically, it identifies ex-
posure to television violence as one of 20 early risk
factors for the committing of felony violence. The early
period of exposure encompassed ages 6 to 11, with the se-
riously harmful criminal violence occurring between 15
and 18 (p. 58, Box 4.1). The effect size of r = .13 would
be classified as small ( by the widely used criteria of
Cohen, 1988). However, so too were three-fourths of the
factors said to pose an early risk (Figure 20.7), none of
which on the surface would seem to be inconsequential
for the welfare or constructive social functioning of a
child or teenager.
This is an important conclusion in the debate over the
effects of television and film violence, for it both esca-
lates the degree of social harm and heightens the stan-
dards of evidence. The effect is now felony violence, and
not the more vague and quite encompassing aggressive
or antisocial behavior. It also has particular credibility
because the authors insisted on data either from meta-
analyses quantitatively aggregating the results of a
group of studies or data from at least two independent
studies. The ignoring of this indictment by the press and
Figure 20.7 Effect sizes for early risk factors (ages 6 to 11)
for serious violence at ages 15 to 18. Source: From A Review
of Predictors of Youth Violence (pp. 106146), by J. D.
Hawkins, T. L. Herrenkohl, D. P. Farrington, D. Brewer, R. F.
Catalano, and T. W. Harachi, in Serious and Violent Juvenile
Of fenders: Risk Factors and Successful Interventions, R. Loe-
ber and D. P. Farrington (Eds.), 1998, Thousand Oaks, CA:
Sage. Reprinted with permission; Predictors of Violent and
Serious Delinquency in Adolescence and Early Adulthood: A
Synthesis of Longitudinal Research (pp. 86105), by M. W.
Lipsey and J. H. Derzon, in Serious and Violent Juvenile Of-
fenders: Risk Factors and Successful Interventions, R. Loeber
and D. P. Farrington (Eds.), 1998, Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.
Reprinted with permission; The Effects of Television Vio-
lence on Antisocial Behavior: A Meta-Analysis, by H. Paik
and G. Comstock, 1994, Communication Research, 21(4),
pp. 516546. Reprinted with permission; pooling of outcomes
from two or more longitudinal studies of general population
samples. Specific factors listed when data permits; Youth
Violence: A Report of the Surgeon General (p. 60, Table 4.1),
by U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, 2001,
Rockville, MD: Author. Reprinted with permission.
General offenses .38
Substance use .30
Being male .26
Low SES/poverty .24
Antisocial parents .23
Male aggression .22
Psychological condition .15
Hyperactivity .13
Poor parent-child relations .15
Harsh, lax, or inconsistent discipline .13
Weak social ties .15
Problem behavior (antisocial) .13
Exposure to television violence .13
Poor attitude toward, performance in school .13
Low IQ .12
Other family conditions .12
Broken home .09
Separation from parents .09
Antisocial attitudes, beliefs
Dishonesty (Males only) .12
Abusive parents .07
Neglect .07
Antisocial peers .04
02 01 0 0.1 0.2 0.3 0.4
Violent Entertainment 841
Figure 20.8 Effect size for media violence and aggression
compared with effect sizes for other domains. Note: A corre-
lation coefficient can range from 1 (a perfect negative linear
relation) to +1 (a perfect positive linear relation), with 0 indi-
cating no linear relation. The effect of smoking tobacco on
lung cancer was estimated by pooling the data from Figures 1
and 3 in Wynder and Grahams (1950) classic article. The re-
maining effects were estimated from meta-analyses. Sources:
(a) Adapted from Tobacco Smoking as a Possible Etiological
Factor in Bronchiogenic Carcinoma, by E. L. Wynder and
E. A. Graham, 1950, Journal of the American Medical Associ-
ation, 143, pp. 329336. Reprinted with permission; ( b) The
Effects of Television Violence on Antisocial Behavior: A
Meta-Analysis, by H. Paik and G. Comstock, 1994, Commu-
nication Research, 21(4), pp. 516546. Reprinted with per-
mission; (c) A Meta-Analysis of Condom Effectiveness in
Reducing Sexually Transmitted HIV, by S. C. Weller, 1993,
Social Science and Medicine, 36, pp. 16351644. Reprinted
with permission; (d) Lung Cancer from Passive Smoking at
Work, by A. J. Wells, 1998, American Journal of Public
Health, 88, pp. 10251029. Reprinted with permission; (e)
Low-Level Lead Exposure and the IQ of Children, by H. L.
Needleman and C. A. Gatsonis, 1990, Journal of the Ameri-
can Medical Association, 263, pp. 673678. Reprinted with
permission; (f ) The Effectiveness of the Nicotine Patch
for Smoking Cessation, by M. C. Fiore, S. S. Smith, D. E.
Jorenby, and T. B. Baker, 1994, Journal of the American Med-
ical Association, 271, pp. 19401947. Reprinted with permis-
sion; (g) A Meta-Analysis of the Effect of Calcium Intake on
Bone Mass in Young and Middle Aged Females and Males,
by D. C. Welten, H. C. G. Kemper, G. B. Post, and W. A. van
Staveren, 1995, Journal of Nutrition, 125, pp. 28022813.
Reprinted with permission; ( h) Homework, by H. Cooper,
1989, New York: Longman. Reprinted with permission;
(i) Epidemiological Evidence Indicates Asbestos Causes
Laryngeal Cancer, by A. H. Smith, M. A. Handley, and
R. Wood, 1990, Journal of Occupational Medicine, 32,
pp. 49507. Reprinted with permission; ( j) Self Examina-
tion of the Breast: Is It Beneficial? Meta-Analysis of Studies
Investigating Breast Self Examination and Extent of Disease
in Patients with Breast Cancer, by D. Hill, V. White, D. Jol-
ley, and K. Mapperson, 1988, British Medical Journal, 297,
pp. 271275. Reprinted with permission; ( k) Media
Violence and the American Public: Scientific Facts versus
Media Misinformation, by B. J. Bushman and C. A. Ander-
son, 2001, American Psychologist, 56(6/7), pp. 477489.
Reprinted with permission.
Smoking and lung cancer
a
Media violence and aggression
b
Condom use and sexually transmitted HIV
c
Passive smoking and lung cancer at work
d
Exposure to lead and IQ scores in children
e
Nicotine patch and smoking cessation
f
Calcium intake and bone mass
g
Homework and academic achievement
h
Exposure to asbestos and laryngeal cancer
i
Self-examination and extent of breast cancer
j
.2 .4 .1 .3 .2 .1 0
the public almost certainly has less to do with the sub-
stance of the charge or the quality of the evidence than
the issuing of the report at the beginning of the inaugu-
ral week of George W. Bush (see Figure 20.8).
Aggregating the Evidence
At the time of the original surgeon generals inquiry,
about 50 experiments had been published with nursery
school children or college students as subjects, with
most recording increased aggressiveness as a conse-
quence of exposure to a violent television portrayal.
However, these outcomes are problematic for generaliz-
ing to everyday viewing; in the jargon of social science
methodology, they are weak in external validity (Cook
& Campbell, 1979) because of the contrived conditions
of the experience, with viewing brief and attenuated
rather than continuous, as it would be in ordinary cir-
cumstances, and zero likelihood of retaliation from the
victim. Today, with the contributions of the research un-
dertaken for the surgeon generals 1972 inquiry and the
extensive subsequent research, there are more than
twice as many experiments (thereby increasing the cred-
ibility, what Cook and Campbell call internal validity,
of this body of studies), and many that incorporate ele-
ments of everyday viewing (increasing their external va-
lidity), as well as evidence from a variety of methods,
such as the survey (which does not suffer from the weak
external validity of the experiment). Thus, it is possible
now to answer the question of whether exposure to vio-
lent television portrayals increases aggressive and anti-
social behavior with much greater confidence than in
the past (in effect, we can test the validity of earlier in-
ferences by asking whether more recent research, more
varied in approach and sometimes employing different
methods, strengthens or weakens the evidentiary trail).
Happily, we can effectively describe the evidence
through a series of seven quantitative aggregations of
study outcomes, with most using the techniques of meta-
analysis (which, using the standard deviation as a crite-
rion, leads to an effect size, or statistical coefficient,
representing the difference across studies between those
experiencing or not experiencing a stimulus, or what in
an experiment would be the treatment versus the control
conditions; Hunt, 1997). These aggregations are more
reliable and valid than a single study because the out-
comes rest on a much larger number of subjects or re-
spondents and they do not suffer much from the singular
weaknesses of a particular study.
842 Media and Popular Culture
In a pioneering aggregation of results (and the one in-
stance in which the techniques of meta-analysis were not
employed), Andison (1977) scored the outcomes of 67
experiments and surveys as to direction and magnitude.
Hearold (1986) examined 168 studies to estimate effect
sizes between exposure to either antisocial or prosocial
portrayals and both antisocial and prosocial outcomes.
Wood, Wong, and Chachere (1991) focused on 23 exper-
iments with children and teenagers as subjects in which
the dependent variable was unconstrained interper-
sonal aggression such as would occur in everyday play.
In contrast, M. Allen, DAlessio, and Brezgel (1995) fo-
cused on 33 experiments in which the treatment was ex-
posure to sexually explicit portrayals, including those
that combine violence with erotica. Hogben (1998)
avoided experiments altogether and confined himself to
56 coefficients from studies where the independent
variable was everyday viewing. Bushman and Anderson
(2001) calculated effect sizes at 5-year intervals over 25
years for both experimental and nonexperimental de-
signs. Paik and Comstock (1994) updated Hearolds ex-
amination of the link between television violence and
aggression by including 82 new studies for a total of 217.
This is a challenging body of data because meta-
analysis, though increasing reliability and validity, does
not absolve the analyst from the anxiety-ridden task of
interpretation. It is still necessary to assign meaning to
the data: what to make of positive correlations in survey
designs where causal inference is ambiguous, whether
experimental findings can be generalized to other set-
tings, and how large an association should be to qualify
as socially important.
In our view, these aggregations, qualified and ampli-
fied by information from individual studies that escapes
the broader net of the aggregations, lead to several im-
portant conclusions:
1. Because the aggregations all produce positive and
(when put to this criterion) statistically significant effect
sizes between exposure to the portrayals under scrutiny
and the dependent variables of aggressive or antisocial
behavior, they make it irrefutably clear that there is a
positive association between exposure and behavior.
2. This positive association occurs for both experi-
mental and nonexperimental designs (most of which are
surveys). These parallel outcomes would produce a
strong case for causation should one condition be met:
that the positive coefficients in the nonexperimental de-
signs cannot be wholly explained by the influence of
something, a so-called third variable, other than expo-
sure to violent portrayals. In fact, this is precisely what
occurs. When the studies in the meta-analyses are ex-
amined individually, the positive correlations persist
when every other measured variable is taken into ac-
count (Comstock, 2004; Comstock & Scharrer, 2003).
Thus, the case for causation rests on the demonstration
of causality in the experiments, which unambiguously
permit such an inference, and the documentation of a
positive association not otherwise wholly explainable in
everyday circumstances. In effect, the surveys, drawing
on data representing viewing and behavior outside of the
laboratory, confirm the generalizability of the experi-
mental outcomes. This interpretation is strongly rein-
forced by the failure of the reverse hypothesis to
provide an explanation. This is the hypothesis that the
positive correlations between exposure to violent por-
trayals and aggression are attributable to the preference
on the part of aggressive youths for violent entertain-
ment. There is some evidence that such a phenomenon
occurs (Huesmann, 1986, 1998; Slater, Henry, Swaim,
& Anderson, 2003), but not on a scale sufficient to ab-
solve television of complicity in television violence-
aggression causation. For example, in examining a series
of correlations between earlier aggression and later
viewing and later viewing and earlier aggression,
Kang (1990) found twice as many statistically signifi-
cant viewing-to-behavior as behavior-to-viewing coeffi-
cients, and Belson (1978), in his survey of about 1,600
London male teenagers, reported only a minute link be-
tween prior aggression and violence viewing but a link
of substantial magnitude between prior viewing vio-
lence and aggression. Thus, data are highly supportive
( by what they dont provide: an alternative explanation
that eliminates the possibility of violence viewing play-
ing a causal role) of violent portrayals in television and
film entertainment contributing to aggressive and anti-
social behavior.
3. Effects are surprisingly similar for males and fe-
males. The early experiments of Bandura (1965; Ban-
dura et al., 1963a, 1963b) with nursery school children
so clearly recorded greater aggressiveness by males that
this has become almost axiomatic in the child develop-
ment literature. However, the Paik and Comstock (1994)
meta-analysis makes it equally clear that this is an un-
tenable position. As more findings accumulated, out-
comes for males and females became more similar and
are almost identical in the nonexperimental designs that
best represent everyday viewing and behavior.
Violent Entertainment 843
4. There is definite evidence of a longitudinal influ-
ence, with earlier violence viewing contributing to later
aggressive or antisocial behavior. One prominent exam-
ple, of course, is the conclusion of the 2001 surgeon
generals report on youth violence that violence viewing
between the ages of 6 and 11 heightens the risk of
serious violence between the ages of 15 and 18 (U. S.
Department of Health and Human Services, 2001).
However, there are many examples in the literature in
which earlier viewing affects later behavior. These in-
clude Eron and colleagues (Eron & Huesmann, 1987;
Huesmann, Eron, Lefkowitz, & Walder, 1984), who re-
port positive correlations between violence viewing and
aggression not only at 10-year but also at 20- and 30-
year intervals; Cook and colleagues (Cook, Kendzier-
ski, & Thomas, 1983) and Kang (1990), who both
reported coefficients of increasing size with extended
time spans in the 3.5-year panel study of Milavsky and
colleagues (Milavsky, Kessler, Stipp, & Rubens, 1982)
and with different segments of the panel population;
and the very recent analyses by Johnson and colleagues
(Johnson, Cohen, Smailes, Kasen, & Brook, 2002) and
Huesmann and colleagues (Huesmann, Moise-Titus,
Podolski, & Eron, 2003), with the former finding young
adult aggression predicted by adolescent television
viewing, and the latter finding violence viewing be-
tween the ages of 6 and 10 predicting aggression 15
years later, both with samples of several hundred and
after numerous potentially contaminating variables had
been statistically controlled.
5. When the nonexperimental studies are examined
individually, it becomes clear that the recorded effects
do not represent outcomes that most people would con-
sider particularly tolerable. The most common depen-
dent variable has been interpersonal aggression, and
although this may escape the attention of the law, the
hitting, fighting, stealing, and name-calling encom-
passed would hardly be found pleasant by anyone. In
other cases, the dependent measure has been delin-
quency against property, teachers, or the use of physical
violence in an encounter (Cook et al., 1983; Thornton &
Voigt, 1984). In fact, one investigator found a convinc-
ing causal link between violence viewing and the com-
mitting of crimes: using a knife or gun in a fight, rape,
or torturing a victim with a lit cigarette (Belson, 1978).
6. The size of effects is not trivial by social stan-
dards. Bushman and Anderson (2001) and Bushman and
Huesmann (2001) compiled a catalogue of effect sizes
for other variables and outcomes, and the overall effect
size (r = .31) recorded by Paik and Comstock (1994) is
among the largest (Figure 20.2). Of course, effect sizes
in Paik and Comstock and in other meta-analyses vary
for each specific pairing of an independent variable
and an outcome, and range ( by Cohens criteria) from
small to large. However, even small effect sizes can
have social consequences if the behavior in question is
of importance because, as Rosenthal and colleagues
(Rosenthal, 1986; Rosenthal, Rosnow, & Rubin, 2000)
have persuasively argued, a small effect size masks a
sizable number of people being shifted above or below
the mean by the treatment.
7. The link between exposure to television or film
portrayals and behavior applies to a wide variety of cir-
cumstances: prosocial behavior (defined to encompass
altruism, acceptance of others, and engaging in social
interaction, the three most frequent in a much longer
list, as would have been seen on Mister Rogers Neigh-
borhood, Big Blue Marble, and, more recently, Blues
Clues), which declines after exposure to violent portray-
als and increases after exposure to prosocial portrayals
(Hearold, 1986); when the experimentally measured be-
havior is naturally occurring spontaneous aggression on
the playground or similar settings (Wood et al., 1991);
and when the measure of viewing occurred in everyday
circumstances rather than the contrived environment of
an experiment (Andison, 1977; Bushman & Anderson,
2001; Hearold, 1986; Hogben, 1998; Paik & Comstock,
1994). This favors the view that the exposure-behavior
link is robust across circumstances.
8. There is a stunning symmetry between outcomes
for violent and prosocial portrayals (Hearold, 1986). Ef-
fect sizes are positive for violent portrayals and aggres-
sive behavior but negative for violent portrayals and
prosocial behaviors, and positive for prosocial portray-
als and prosocial behavior and negative for prosocial
portrayals and aggressive behavior.
The inferences in regard to violent media receive
strong endorsement from the recent review in Psycho-
logical Science in the Public Interest (Anderson et al.,
2003), the American Psychological Society journal
whose mission is to adjudicate the empirical evidence
on issues of significant public concern. The authors con-
clude that (a) exposure to violent television or film
entertainment facilitates aggressive and antisocial be-
havior, that ( b) this facilitation extends to seriously
harmful behavior, and that (c) there is a developmental
pattern in which earlier viewing nurtures one or more
844 Media and Popular Culture
traits that will be expressed in aggressive and antisocial
behavior in a later time period.
Other Violence-Related Hypotheses
Three other hypotheses have seen considerable attention
in regard to television and film violence. These include
the expectation that media portrayals may induce, as
well as temporarily invoke, anxieties and fears (Cantor,
2001), the possibility that media portrayals may desen-
sitize audience members to future displays of violence
(Drabman & Thomas, 1974), and the proposition that
television cultivates beliefs and impressions that are in
accord with the emphases of its programming (Gerbner,
Gross, Morgan, Signorielli, & Shanahan, 2002).
Fear
Cantor (1998a, 2001) and her colleagues (Cantor,
1994a, 1994b; Cantor & Hoffner, 1990; Cantor &
Nathanson, 1996; Cantor & Reilly, 1982) have explored
the relationships between the anxieties and fears of
children and teenagers in relation to television and
films. Almost half have been frightened at one time and
will recall this many years later. Young children are
particularly disturbed by visual manifestations of dan-
ger, including monsters and transformations such as
The Incredible Hulk used to undergo. Older children are
less frightened by the impossible than by the possible if
improbable: kidnappings, abuse, threats to pets. Cata-
clysmic events such as wars and natural upheavals such
as hurricanes and earthquakes are not of much signifi-
cance to young children (until experienced), although
they are quite frightening to older children who are bet-
ter prepared to imagine the harm and destruction and
threat to life that such an event might bring. A highly
dramatic portrayal may be particularly powerful; the
movie Jaws left many young people and particularly
teenagers, who would be more apt to venture into
deeper waters, avoiding the beach, an effect that would
be expected today when reports of shark attacks are
prominent in the media (although their effect would
certainly be diminished without graphic video).
Desensitization
The evidence is quite convincing that media portrayals
of violence may lessen the subsequent responsiveness of
children and teenagers to violent stimuli. Drabman and
Thomas (1974) and Thomas, Horton, Lippencott, and
Drabman (1977) found that third- and fourth-grade chil-
dren who viewed a violent film were slower to respond
to a signal that children they had been assigned to watch
over had become engaged in a physical melee. Cline,
Croft, and Courrier (1973) found that children between
the ages of 5 and 12 who had a history of viewing violent
television were emotionally less aroused by new violent
television scenes. Donnerstein, Linz, and Penrod (1987)
and Linz, Donnerstein, and Adams (1989) report that
continuous exposure to violent erotica reduces the readi-
ness of college students to label similar new stimuli as
violent or pornographic, and increases the likelihood
that they will perceive the female victim of a rape as
somehow responsible. It would be far too much to con-
clude that this desensitization extends to bloody vio-
lence witnessed in real life, for all of the studies we have
described used television or film to convey the new
stimuli that evoked a lessened response (the children in
the experiments by Drabman and colleagues were re-
sponding to video coverage of their wards play area).
However, media portrayals inevitably figure promi-
nently in the reactions of children and teenagers, as well
as adults, to the larger world. Media are the principal
means by which children and teenagers, as well as
adults, learn of distant events. What media depict im-
pinges on viewers interpretation of what is transpiring
in the world and critically affects the picture that peo-
ple have of reality. These events often include human
suffering, distress, and death. The media also have long
been used by nations to justify the retribution imposed
on an enemy; this is the process of dehumanization
(Bandura, 1986), by which the suffering of others is
made more tolerable by the media. The implication is
that desensitization to media portrayals may encourage
a callous indifference to suffering and a curtailment of
empathy (this is, of course, speculation because such
outcomes in regard to the news have not been investi-
gated for either young people or adults).
Cultivation
Gerbner and colleagues (Gerbner, Gross, Morgan, &
Signorielli, 1980; Gerbner et al., 2002; R. P. Hawkins &
Pingree, 1990) have proposed what has become known
as cultivation theory. This formulation takes its name
from the notion that television cultivates beliefs and per-
ceptions, with the emphasis on the subtlety and gener-
ally small scale of the influence rather than the larger
impact connoted by its synonym, effects. Two initial as-
sumptions were that television is homogeneous enough
in its presentationsas exemplified by such perennials
Violent Entertainment 845
as ubiquitous violence, preeminence in news, sports, and
entertainment of the White male, and a focus on the
middle and upper-middle classesthat amount of view-
ing is a reasonable index of exposure to the emphases of
the medium, and that the cultivation effect will be a
function of amount viewed.
The first proposition offered by cultivation theory is
that those who view more will be more likely to perceive
the world as resembling what has been portrayed on tele-
vision. Morgan (1989) catalogues a large number of such
correlations; for example, heavier viewers perceive the
world as racially and occupationally more like the demo-
graphics of television casts. The two propositions that
have been offered in regard to violent entertainment is
that heavier viewers will perceive the world as a mean
and dangerous place, and that they are more likely to be
fearful of falling victim to an attack. The first finds con-
siderable support; after controlling for a large number of
other variables, including those that are correlates of
both amount of viewing and such pessimistic views
( lower socioeconomic status, senior citizen status, or
being female) that might artifactually create correlations
between viewing and perceptions, the viewing-pessimism
correlations hold up stoutly (Hughes, 1980). The second
has fared less well (Hughes, 1980; Tyler, 1980, 1984);
television viewing in general, as contrasted with the
viewing of terrifying or frightening portrayals, is unre-
lated to fearfulness when the influence of other variables
is statistically controlled. The analysis by Hughes pres-
ents critical evidence in what is essentially a match-up of
mean world and fearfulness responses. In a nationally
representative sample of about 2,000 (and thereby partic-
ularly credible), he found that after controlling for cru-
cial variables such as age, sex, and race ( because they are
positively correlated with both amount of viewing and
mean world and fearfulness responses), three out of four
mean world items were positively associated with amount
of viewing to a statistically significant degree; the one
item representing fearfulness, after controlling for those
same items, reversed in direction, with scores increasing
as amount of viewing decreasedexactly the opposite of
what cultivation theory would predict.
Thus, the two initial assumptions have held up well
enough for data collected under their rubric to support
the theory, but on closer examination they do not accu-
rately convey the whole story. There is enough variation
in the makeup of television programs for those who
watch a particular genre a great deal to display stronger
effects for the emphases of that particular genre, and as
a consequence measuring exposure to particular types
of programming produces larger correlations between
program emphases and beliefs than occur for viewing in
general and the overall emphases of programming (R. P.
Hawkins & Pingree, 1980, 1982). Ironically, these both
follow logically from the initial assumptions, because
effects, if present, surely should increase with more
specific measures of program emphases and more pre-
cise measures of exposure to those emphases.
The data supporting the cultivation perspective
mostly has represented adults, but the few instances
where children or teenagers have been examined show
the same pattern (R. P. Hawkins & Pingree, 1982; R. P.
Hawkins, Pingree, & Adler, 1987; Pingree & Hawkins,
1981). In addition, children and teenagers are particu-
larly likely to rely on the media when firsthand knowl-
edge is absent (DeFleur & DeFleur, 1967), and so it is a
reasonable speculation that they would be particularly
affected by portrayals that take them away from their
own world, which would account for a good amountal-
though certainly not allof their television exposure.
Theory, the V-Chip, and the Surgeon General
Child development as a field has profited from research
on the influence of violent portrayals on aggressive and
antisocial behavior. The data identify a developmental
pattern in which viewing violence during the elemen-
tary school years nurtures a trait of aggressiveness that
will persist well into and perhaps throughout adult-
hood, and large amounts of violence viewing during the
teenage years will promote enhanced aggressiveness
( but not necessarily a lasting trait) whatever the his-
tory of prior viewing (Anderson et al., 2003; Comstock
& Scharrer, 1999; Huesmann, 1986). The two theories
that guided so much of the researchBanduras (1986)
social cognition and Berkowitzs (1984, 1990) neo-
associationismhave certainly benefited by the sup-
port from myriad findings, and we have all benefited
by being able to apply these explanations of behavior
with greater confidence. Social cognition, of course,
holds that what children and teenagers seein the
media as well as the real worldis a source for the ac-
quisition (and subsequent performance) of behavior;
neo-associationism emphasizes the influence on behav-
ior of the thoughts, semantically linked in the brain,
triggered by what is observed. Both predict that media
portrayals under some circumstances will influence be-
havior. Although social cognition emphasizes the
846 Media and Popular Culture
learning of behavior and neo-associationism emphasize
the performance of learned behavior, the two are es-
sentially identical in the hypotheses they would offer
in a given circumstance. Both concur that the context
of a portrayal makes a critical difference. Likelihood
of an effect is enhanced when a portrayal includes var-
ious elements that attribute what Comstock and Schar-
rer (1999) have termed efficacy, normativeness, or
pertinence to a way of behaving, or when there is par-
ticular susceptibility to influence on the part of a
viewer. These terms refer to the presentation of behav-
ior as likely to be rewarded, successful, or helpful in at-
taining a goal; as accepted or socially approved; as
particularly connected to a viewer through the overlap
of the portrayal with viewer attributes or circum-
stances (such as age, gender, race, potential victim, or
some aspect of the setting); and (in regard to suscepti-
bility) in the case of aggression and antisocial behav-
ior, anger, frustration, or provocation. Changes in
attitudes, norms, and values attributable to the media,
proposed by some as a major factor (Eron & Hues-
mann, 1987), are not a necessary condition. This is
made clear by Belsons (1978) documentation in his
monumental survey of about 1,600 male London
teenagers that a positive correlation between violence
viewing and aggression was not mediated by attitudes,
norms, or values; this is a strong finding, because atti-
tudes, norms, and values were operationalized in four
distinct, highly reliable scales, and in none of these in-
stances did violence viewing predict dispositions favor-
able to aggression. Efficacy, normativeness, and
pertinence, then, well-documented in the experiments
derived from social cognition and neo-associationism,
may function, in addition to the possibility of changes
in dispositions, through enhancing accessibility by giv-
ing ways of behaving greater prominence and prefer-
ence in the behavioral repertoires of young viewers.
The data in turn establish the media as important con-
tributors to the behavior of young people.
This role extends beyond aggressive and antisocial
behavior to prosocial behavior, as the symmetry in one
meta-analysis (Hearold, 1986) makes clear. Individual
studies, as well as portions of the meta-analyses, iden-
tify four factors that will vary considerably from situa-
tion to situation as critical, with three representing
attributes of portrayals and one an attribute of the
viewer (Comstock & Scharrer, 1999): ef ficacy (the por-
trayal of successful goal attainment), normativeness (the
portrayal of behavior as socially approved), pertinence
(the portrayal of a link with the viewer, such as age, set-
ting, or adversary), and susceptibility (circumstances
that render the viewer vulnerable, such as frustration or
anger in the case of aggressive behavior).
The meta-analyses now appear regularly in the litera-
ture on media and aggression and thereby establish a su-
perior framework in regard to the reliability and validity
of evidence, and thus interpretation (Anderson et al.,
2003; Comstock, 2004). They have joined the currency
of academic exchange. They have also seen more spe-
cific applications. Bushman and Anderson (2001) used
the Paik and Comstock (1994) meta-analysis to evaluate
how the effect size ranked among socially consequential
effect sizes (about as large as they come), and used their
own meta-analysis, broken into 5-year segments, to
show that whereas the findings have become stronger
with time, news coverage has become weaker in regard
to a media violence-behavior link. The latter may be a
consequence of the preoccupation of the news media
with the episodic, for in the specific, dramatic instance,
news outlets have been quick to indict the media for re-
sponsibility, as exemplified by the death of Princess
Diana, the Jenny Jones talk show murder, and the shoot-
ings at Columbine High School (Scharrer, Weidman, &
Bissell, 2003).
There is much also that must be attributed to the var-
ied research on the effects of violent portrayals as a
whole, although the research on portrayals and aggres-
sive and antisocial behavior unambiguously has been at
the forefront. The gist of all the research, from the view-
point of the welfare of the child or teenager, has been
that violent portrayals, however enjoyable or, in specific
instances, true to life and even inspiring, can be prob-
lematic for young viewers, with sometimes undesirable
consequences. It is difficult to believe that without the
context established by this research, an eminence suit-
ably lustrous with disinterested scientific authority, the
warning labels that now grace many programs and par-
ticularly cable movies would be appearing on our televi-
sion screens. The industry has every reason to detest and
avoid labels, because they narrow the audience, arouse
parental concerns, and frighten advertisers with the
very noxious (to the industry) result that commercials
sell for less on programs with warning labels (Hamilton,
1998). Not surprising, given the economic consequences
of labeling, the industry has leaned toward underlabel-
ing (J. C. Allen, 2001; Kunkel et al., 1998), leaving some
programs unlabeled or with less restrictive ratings than
the content would seem to call for. Nevertheless, the en-
Emerging Issues 847
tire enterprise can be regarded as a potential service to
parents (Gentile, Humphrey, & Walsh, 2004), and appar-
ently programs labeled with warnings do draw smaller
child audiences (Hamilton, 1998).
EMERGING ISSUES
Children and adolescents continue to spend much of
their timeoutside of school and absent other obliga-
tionswatching television, listening to music, logging
on to the Internet, and playing video games. Television,
for decades discussed by social scientists as a medium
that newly captured our attention, is now often rele-
gated, along with radio, newspapers, and magazines, to
the status of traditional media, in contrast with the
newest wave of novel media forms that are computer-
and video game console-based. However, despite the se-
mantic shift and the increasing prevalence of new media
in the lives of young people, television continues to dom-
inate overall media use and largely commands the way
leisure time is spent (Comstock & Scharrer, 1999).
With the growth of new interactive media and the
staying power of traditional media have come new con-
cerns about the amount of time young people spend in
front of screens as well as about the content to which
they are exposed. Neither concern is new in substance.
What is new is the cumulative hours spent by young peo-
ple with media and the recent implementation of ratings
and codes to label the media contentin effect, to give
warningdelivered through traditional forms (in the
case of television) and new forms (in the case of video
and computer games). We begin with the codes and rat-
ings, which are now largely (if imperfectly and confus-
edly) in place. We then turn to the new delivery systems
that are becoming increasingly important in the alloca-
tion by the young of time and attention to media and
popular culture.
Ratings and Codes
Violence is the topic that has garnered the most research
and public attention and triggered the most heated and
long-standing debates about media. Yet, little to no sub-
stantive reform was achieved in past instances in which
Congress took up the issue, despite increasing confi-
dence in the causal link between media violence and ag-
gression, desensitization, and fear (C. A. Cooper, 1996).
The V-chip and accompanying program labels imple-
mented by the Telecommunications Act of 1996 stand in
stark contrast to the long history of a high degree of at-
tention to the issue of media violence with low levels of
responsive changes in the entertainment industry.
In the early to mid-1990s, U.S. Representative Ed-
ward Markey began to press for the creation of a policy
that would address the issue of media violence, focusing
on bringing V-chip technology that had been introduced
in Canada to the United States (Price, 1998). This com-
puter chip, contained in television sets, can be pro-
grammed to read the rating or codes that are assigned to
a television program to flag the presence of potentially
objectionable content and allow the user to block the
display of the program on the television screen. A parent
uses a code or personal identification number to pro-
gram the V-chip via remote control to block out all pro-
grams that carry the label or labels the parent has
identified as a concern. The label information of the
program is encoded in the television signal using a tech-
nology that is similar to that developed for closed cap-
tioning (Eastin, 2001; Price, 1998).
Dale Kunkel and Brian Wilcox (2001, p. 592) de-
scribe the political process through which the V-chip
legislation surfaced:
In a political context shaped by strong scientific consen-
sus about the harms of violent portrayals, and perhaps
even stronger public opinion against media violence,
United States Representative Edward Markey began to
gain support for his V-chip legislative proposal. . . . When
President Clinton endorsed the V-chip in his 1996 State of
the Union Address, it was only a matter of weeks until
Congress adopted Markeys legislative proposal, adding it
as an amendment to the omnibus Telecommunications Act
of 1996. Under the law, the television industry was given 1
year to devise its own system of categorizing programs for
violence and other sensitive material (including sex and
offensive language) and to then submit this system to the
FCC for its approval. If the television industry failed to
act, or if its system was not deemed acceptable, then the
FCC would have been required to appoint an advisory
committee to design a model V-chip rating system. Oddly
enough, the industry would not have been bound to actu-
ally employ the system designed by the FCC or, for that
matter, any system at all. The only firm requirement in the
law was that all television sets sold in the United States
must be equipped with a V-chip device that would facili-
tate program-blocking capabilities.
Thus, the two-pronged systemprogram ratings/
codes and the V-chip that can read themwas imple-
mented in a manner that was technically voluntary on
848 Media and Popular Culture
the part of the industry but in reality was couched in
fairly threatening terms. The opposition of members of
the television industry on First Amendment grounds was
circumnavigated by their freedom to devise the codes
themselves and by the fact that parents could choose
whether to use the chip (Eastin, 2001; McDowell &
Maitland, 1998). Industry leaders also objected on
economic grounds, concerned that the labels would de-
crease audiences and thereby ward off advertisers
(Price, 1998).
Research supports the view that child audiences, but
not adults or teens, will be smaller when programs carry
warning labels. Hamilton (1998) analyzed the impact of
viewer discretion warnings on the audience composi-
tion for movies airing on the broadcast networks from
1987 to 1993. He found that such warnings resulted in a
decrease in childrens ratings of approximately 14%,
translating into approximately 220,000 fewer children
in the audience (pp. 7677).
Facing the possibility of direct FCC involvement, an
industry group comprising members of the National
Association of Broadcasters, the National Cable Televi-
sion Association, and the Motion Picture Association of
America (MPAA) joined forces to create codes that
would be used to label television programs for poten-
tially sensitive content.
Despite the evidence from a national survey of par-
ents that they would prefer codes that communicated in-
formation about the actual content of programs (rather
than the ages for which they were deemed appropriate)
and the support for such content-based (rather than age-
based) codes of many social scientists (Cantor, 1998b;
Gruenwald, 1997), the industry group unveiled its newly
conceived codes that used the MPAA model of assigning
age-based ratings only. The ratings included TV-Y (for
youth), TV-Y7 (for youth age 7 and older), TV-G (for
general audiences), TV-PG (parental guidance sug-
gested, as used by the MPAA), TV-14 (recommended
for those 14 and older, parents strongly cautioned),
and TV-MA (for mature audiences only; Eastin, 2001).
News and sports were exempted from labeling, and the
decision was made to label each individual episode of a
television series, a task given to the program producers
or the syndicated programmers (Eastin, 2001).
The lack of content descriptors in the codes initially
generated by the industry group sparked a new round of
controversy. In addition to reflecting public interest
groups demands for more informative labels, the ensu-
ing debate was also influenced by the National Televi-
sion Violence Study, a multifaceted, multimillion-dollar
research project funded by the cable industry (Kunkel &
Wilcox, 2001; S. Smith et al., 1998; Wilson et al., 1997,
1998). One portion of the National Television Violence
Study investigated the potential for program labels to
actually increase the appeal of a program among young
audiences rather than to lead them away (Cantor & Har-
rison, 1997; Cantor, Harrison, & Nathanson, 1997), a
phenomenon that has been referred to as a boomerang
or forbidden fruit effect (Bushman & Stack, 1996;
Christenson, 1992). The data from the experiment indi-
cated that age-based labels increased childrens interest
in television programs, primarily among boys, whereas
content-based labels did not. This evidence, impugning
the effectiveness of age-based labels, had a prominent
role in the critique of the industrys original program
coding scheme. After press attention to the fresh contro-
versy and another congressional hearing, the industry
agreed fairly quickly to add codes that would signify
particular categories of content were present (Kunkel &
Wilcox, 2001). Furthermore, the composition of the
committee designing the labels was expanded to repre-
sent such nonindustry organizations as the American
Medical Association, the Center for Media Education,
and the Parent Teacher Association (Greenberg, 2001).
The result is the presently used system, in place
since October 1997, which employs both the age-based
labels and content codes: V for violence, S for sex, L
for adult language, D for suggestive dialogue, and FV
for fantasy violence (usually used for childrens car-
toons, and used only in conjunction with the TV-Y7
rating; Eastin, 2001). The combination of the age- and
content-based labels introduces the possibility of mul-
tiple meanings assigned to the content codes based on
the age-related context. A V in a TV-PG program, for
instance, signifies moderate violence, whereas the
same V in association with a TV-14 program means
intense violence and with a TV-MA program means
graphic violence (Eastin, 2001).
The labels appear in the opening 15 seconds of televi-
sion programs in the form of a black-and-white box that
appears in the corner of the screen. Parents and care-
givers can use the label information itself to make deci-
sions about viewing in the household or, if they have a
television set that contains the V-chip, can program the
chip to block out programs that feature any combination
of labels that the parent chooses. In other words, a parent
of a young child can block any program labeled with a V
for violence, for instance, or any program with a label
Emerging Issues 849
that exceeds TV-Y7. The parent sets the parameters for
acceptable programs and can reset them at any time.
Effectiveness
The V-chip and television program labels are positive
developments because they give parents and caregivers in-
formation about program content and age-appropriateness
that may be useful, as well as provide the means to restrict
childrens access to such content using the chip. The pol-
icy is the only tangible and potentially long-lasting reform
to come out of more than 30 years of consistent social sci-
entific support for negative effects of media violence
(Kunkel & Wilcox, 2001). In practice and at present, how-
ever, the effectiveness of the V-chip and program labels is
constrained by many obstacles.
Some criticisms of the V-chip and labels have fo-
cused on the potential conflict of interest involved when
industry professionals themselves rate their programs,
the difficulty parents may encounter in actually pro-
gramming the chip, and the short amount of time that the
labels air that makes them easy to miss. In addition to
these concerns, research has identified two major areas
in which severe limitations to the effectiveness of the V-
chip and labels have surfaced: (1) whether and how ac-
curately and consistently television producers label
programs using both age- and content-based ratings and
(2) a lack of attention, awareness, and understanding of
the system among parents.
To investigate whether television producers were la-
beling their programs with age- and content-based rat-
ings faithfully and accurately, Greenberg, Eastin, and
Mastro (2001) examined a 2-month sample of TV Guide
listings for the four major broadcast networks and four
cable channels at three different times of the day. TV
Guide and other program listing sources were supposed
to have made ratings information available to parents to
allow them to plan viewing decisions before programs
aired. The TV Guides examined in the study were from
1998, 5 months after the content-based ratings had been
devised. Greenberg and colleagues found that of the
4,001 programs eligible for ratings, only 2,911 actually
carried a rating. (NBC programs were exempt from
the analysis because the network had decided not to sub-
mit content codes, with no discernible consequences
as of this writing.) Thus, 27% had no rating (either age-
or content-based) available at all. Of those programs
that had a rating, only 25% carried a content-based
label. Although the data certainly reveal a high degree
of noncompliance, the researchers observe that the over-
whelming lack of content-based information is partly at-
tributable to the presence of TV-G and TV-Y programs
in the sample that, by definition, are not supposed to
contain objectionable content. Greenberg and colleagues
note that the ostensible victory that public interest
groups and social scientists gained in the fight to add
content information to labels resulted in content infor-
mation being part of the ratings for only one in four
shows (p. 35). The study found that TV-G (32%) and
TV-PG (24%) were the most common age-based, and D
(for dialogue, 38%) and V (for violence, 33%) the most
common content-based codes in the TV Guides. Yet,
when the researchers compared the TV Guide listed rat-
ings to the ratings that actually aired with the television
programs, they determined that the overall match in
ratings between on-air information and TV Guide is
abysmally low (p. 50).
Kunkel and colleagues (Kunkel, Farinola, et al.,
2001) compared the labels appended to programs with
data from content analyses of the treatment of violence
and sex. Using a composite week that consisted of 1,147
programs eligible for ratings that aired from early morn-
ing to late at night on 10 channels, they chose only those
programs that contained violent acts that would cause
serious harm. Coders then assigned points for number of
acts of violence, sanitization of harm or pain, and
graphicness. In the highest-scoring programs in the sam-
ple using this procedure (those deemed high risk by
the researchers), 65% were not labeled with a V for vio-
lence and 27% were labeled as appropriate for audience
members 14 and older (TV-14). When only childrens
programs designated as high risk were assessed, only
28% were labeled TV-Y7/ FV (indicating fantasy vio-
lence, the strictest label available for childrens shows).
The same pattern was found with sexual content, with a
failure to label high risk sexual portrayals with an S
80% of the time. The conclusion of the researchers is
unambiguous: Parents cannot rely on the V-chip rat-
ings, as presently applied, to effectively identify and
block the most problematic material that poses a risk of
harm to their children (p. 68).
Finally, there is persuasive evidence that young peo-
ple and parents alike have difficulty ascertaining the
meaning of some of the labels used to identify television
programs, and children and adolescents pay little atten-
tion to the ratings. In 1997, Greenberg, Rampoldi-
Hnilo, and Hofschire (2001) surveyed 462 4th, 8th, and
10th graders in Michigan and found that their attention
to the television program ratings was low, especially
850 Media and Popular Culture
among the older respondents. Only 52% of respondents
were aware that the ratings labeled programs for sexual
content, compared to 70% for language and 72% for vio-
lence. Fewer than half of the respondents knew that car-
toons were labeled (47%). Just over half (52%) could
correctly identify the meaning of the label TV-Y,
whereas the other age-based labels were understood by
at least two-thirds of the respondents. The majority of
the young people reported that they used the ratings
either not much or not much at all. Acknowledgment
of the use of the ratings to actually seek out a show with
sensitive content was more common among the younger
respondents and those with more parental mediation of
viewing, demonstrating some evidence of the forbidden
fruit effect.
Greenberg and Rampoldi-Hnilo (2001) conducted a
follow-up study a year later to determine knowledge, at-
titudes, and use of the newer content-based labels among
another sample of 510 4th, 8th, and 10th graders. Atten-
tion to and use of the labels continued to be modest, and
knowledge of the content-based labels was lower for
all age groups than knowledge of the age-based labels.
Only 25% of the respondents could identify either D as
the label used for adults talking about topics that
should not be heard by children or FV as the label that
means the TV show has cartoons with violence in
them (p. 126). Over half (56%) could match up the let-
ter L with the labeling of language, and nearly three-
fourths (73%) could do the same for S and sex, with
these results possibly somewhat inflated as measures of
comprehension by the match between the first letters.
In a 1998 survey of 1,358 parents of children ages 2
to 17, Foehr, Rideout, and Miller (2001) found that
18% were unaware of the television ratings system and
only 55% reported ever having used it. Comprehension
among parents of the meaning of the codes was moder-
ate to low. Only 34% could correctly identify the mean-
ing of TV-Y, 41% TV-Y7 or TV-MA, 55% V, 44% S,
40% L, 7% FV, and 2% D. Comprehension was slightly
to significantly higher for the aged-based codes that are
similar to the recognizable MPAA ratings (TV-G, TV-
PG, TV-14). One year later, a follow-up survey (Kaiser
Family Foundation, 1999) found little change, and most
data pointed toward reduced rather than increased un-
derstanding. Yet, these same two surveys make it clear
that parents approve of the idea of ratings ( by about a
91 ratio) even if only about half use them, and they pre-
fer, as earlier survey research had indicated, content-
based to age-based ratings. Therefore, even among the
group that would presumably be most interested in the
labeling systemparents of children and teensaware-
ness, comprehension, and use have been low.
New Delivery Systems
Two new media delivery systems whose rising presence
in the lives of young people is difficult to ignore are the
Internet and interactive games (either computer- or
video game console-based). The best data on the use of
both by children and adolescents in the United States is
the 1999 Kaiser Foundation survey on which Roberts
and Foehr (2004) report. They used two different sam-
ples, 2- to 7-year-olds and 8- to 18-year-olds, asking the
parents of the younger group to respond but allowing the
children and teenagers in the older group to report on
their own behavior. To maximize validity and lessen the
bias of recall and interpretation of typical use that
often constrains these measures, time use questions
were framed around media use the previous day and
were measured by specific blocks or dayparts. Both
samples were nationally representative: The younger
group, reached at home, included 1,090 children, and the
older group, reached in school, consisted of 2,014 older
children and teenagers.
The patterns drawn by the Roberts and Foehr (2004)
data assign a staggeringly large role to media in the
lives of children and adolescents in the United States
(Table 20.2). The new, interactive forms of media
distinguished by technology in which changes in the
childs physical behavior (clicking a mouse, hitting a
button) dictate alterations in the content to which they
are exposedare increasingly available and escalating
in use. Yet, time spent with television dominates overall
media use by far.
Almost 70% of households with children under the
age of 18 owned a computer, and 45% had Internet ac-
cess at home. It is apparent that Internet access has
grown since the Roberts and Foehr (2004) data were col-
lected. The 2000 Census reported that 53% of house-
holds with school-age children had Internet access
(Newburger, 2001). The National Center for Education
Statistics found that in 2001, 65% of children ages 5 to
17 could access computers in the home, whereas 81%
accessed them in school (DeBell & Chapman, 2003).
Among all of the young people in the Roberts and
Foehr (2004) sample, the amount of time spent with
computers varied from an average of 6 minutes per day
for 2- to 7-year-olds to 31 minutes for 11- to 14-year-
Emerging Issues 851
TABLE 20.2 Media Availability in the Homes of Young People
2- to 7-year-olds 8- to 18-year-olds
Media Average 1+ 2+ 3+ Average 1+ 2+ 3+
TV 2.5 100% 81% 45% 3.1 100% 93% 70%
VCR 1.6 96 47 12 2.0 99 64 26
Radio 2.6 99 78 48 3.4 98 91 73
CD player 1.4 83 36 14 2.6 95 74 48
Tape player 1.8 91 53 26 2.9 98 85 62
Computer 0.8 63 16 3 1.1 74 25 8
Video game console 0.8 53 18 5 1.7 82 49 24
Cable TV 73 74
Premium channels 40 45
Internet connection 40 47
Source: Adapted from Kids and Media in America, by D. F. Roberts and U. G. Foehr, 2004, Cambridge, England: Cam-
bridge University Press. Reprinted with permission.
olds and 26 minutes for 15- to 18-year-olds. Among only
those with in-home access to computers, the figures
were much higher, with 2- to 7-year-olds spending 23
minutes, 8- to 10-year-olds 50 minutes, 11- to 14-year-
olds 58 minutes, and 15- to 18-year-olds 47 minutes per
day. Generally, boys in these homes spent more time
with the computer than girls (an average of 58 compared
to 46 minutes), and the gender gap is particularly
marked in the older age groups. Among the younger age
groups (those 8 to 10 and 11 to 14) who use computers,
the largest allocation of time is spent playing computer
games, whereas among the 15- to 18-year-olds, playing
computer games and visiting Web sites tied for com-
puter time allotment. E-mail and instant messaging, both
forms of engaging with others through computer use,
also constitute popular practice and enjoyed a substan-
tial proportion of the computer-dedicated time use of
young people (Lenhart, Rainie, & Lewis, 2001; Roberts
& Foehr, 2004; Roper Starch Worldwide Inc., 1999).
The Roberts and Foehr (2004) data also point to a sig-
nificant role for video games in the lives of young people.
Indeed, the amount of time devoted to console-based
games is similar to that devoted to computers. Just over
half (53%) of the 2- to 7-year-olds and over three-
quarters (82%) of the 8- to 18-year-olds in the sample
had a video game console (e.g., Nintendo, Sega Genesis,
Xbox) in the home. Children 2 to 7 years old played for
an average of 8 minutes per day (2 minutes more than
they used the computer), and 8- to 18-year-olds played
for an average of 26 minutes (1 minute more than the
computer). The data collected by Roberts and Foehr doc-
ument that the gender differences that were apparent but
hardly extreme in computer use appear in more stagger-
ing form in video game use. Boys outnumber girls as
video game users in every age group, but never more so
than at ages 11 to 14, when 61% of boys and 24% of girls
reported playing. Boys also spent significantly more time
with video games than girls did and listed action/com-
bat, sports/competition, and simulation/strategic games
as preferences more often than girls (Table 20.3).
Access to television has reached a saturation level,
where it is about equal across socioeconomic and racial
and ethnic differences. Access to computers and the In-
ternet is not at all equal across these groupings. The
Roberts and Foehr (2004) data from 1999 showed that
among the 2- to 7-year-olds, 71% of White children had
computers in the household compared to 45% of Black
or African American and 40% of Latino children. Half
of White children had Internet access at home, com-
pared to 19% of both Black/African American and
Latino children. The differences in access appeared in
the older age group as well, although they were some-
what less pronounced. Home computer access in the De-
Bell and Chapman (2003) data collected 2 years later
was highest for White and Asian families (77% and
76%, respectively), followed by American Indian (54%),
and Black/African American and Latino families (each
at 41%). Having a computer in the home also increased
linearly with household income, from a low access fig-
ure of 31% in homes with incomes of less than $20,000
to a high of 89%for incomes of $75,000 or more (DeBell
& Chapman, 2003). Thus, the diffusion of these newer
technologies to young people in the United States is not
universal and is contingent on a multitude of factors,
whereas television access and use is omnipresent.
Data reported by Livingstone (2002) and gathered
through the General Household Survey of 1,287 house-
holds in the United Kingdom and by Livingstone and
852 Media and Popular Culture
Bovill (1999) collected in a multination survey of West-
ern Europe and Israel indicate that high levels of media
access and use are not confined to the United States but
are typical of the developed world. In the United King-
dom, 61% of 15- to 17-year-olds and 72% of 12- to 14-
year-olds have the ability to use console-based video
games in the home, again varying by gender (56% of
girls, 78% of boys). The UK data also found that 44% of
all boys and 40% of all girls ages 6 to 16 owned a Game-
boy, a handheld video game-playing system. Video
games are slightly less pervasive in other European loca-
tions, lower than UK estimates by about 15 to 20 per-
centage points for Germany, Spain, France, Switzerland,
and Denmark (Livingstone & Bovill, 1999).
Livingstone (2002) also reports on the diffusion of
computers and the Internet to British homes, finding in
the 1997 data that 53% of homes with young people had
a personal computer, yet only 7% had Internet access.
These figures are comparable with some other countries
in Europe (e.g., Germany and Spain), whereas other lo-
cations have higher Internet diffusion rates (e.g., Swe-
den at 31% and Finland at 26%; Livingstone & Bovill,
1999). However, Livingstone also cites a more recent
British poll (Wigley & Clarke, 2000) that estimated
70% of UK homes with children have a personal com-
puter and 36% have Internet access. These latter, more
up-to-date diffusion rates for computers and the Inter-
net are very similar to those in the United States and
lead us to suspect that as time progresses, computer-
related diffusion rates in most Western countries will be
much the same.
The bedrooms of children and teens in the United
Kingdom, as in the United States, are often replete with
personal media. Livingstone (2002) reports that 66% of
the young people in the sample had a television, books,
and a radio or stereo, 33% a video game console, and
12% a computer in their own room. The distribution of
media in bedrooms of children and teens in the United
Kingdom is related to their age (older kids have more ac-
cess) and gender ( boys have more access). Other Euro-
pean countries (with the exception of Denmark, which
more closely resembles the United States and the United
Kingdom on this measure) have significantly fewer
young people with access to media in their bedroom
(Livingstone & Bovill, 1999). In France, for instance,
28% of children had a television in their bedroom, 25%
a video game console, and 3% a computer with a CD-
ROM (Livingstone & Bovill, 1999).
Consequences
One of the central concerns about the consequences of
high levels of media use is the potential for displacement
of time that might otherwise be spent by young people
TABLE 20.3 Media Exposure by Gender and Age (8 to 18)
818 Years 810 Years 1114 Years 1518 Years
Female Male Female Male Female Male Female Male
Average exposure time ( hr:min):
Television 2:55
a
3:15
b
3:24 3:15 3:13
a
3:47
b
2:12
a
2:34
b
Videos of TV 0:13 0:15 0:19 0:22 0:13 0:15 0:09 0:11
Commercial videos 0:27 0:28 0:23 0:28 0:28 0:30 0:28 0:27
Movies (in theaters) 0:16 0:19 0:25 0:27 0:17 0:22 0:09 0:09
Video games 0:11
a
0:39
b
0:20
a
0:40
b
0:09
a
0:43
b
0:07
a
0:34
b
Print media 0:46
a
0:41
b
1:00 0:49 0:44 0:39 0:38 0:36
Radio 0:55
a
0:38
b
0:30
a
0:19
b
0:55
a
0:38
b
1:13
a
0:55
b
CDs and tapes 1:14
a
0:51
b
0:42
a
0:22
b
1:16
a
0:40
b
1:36 1:32
Computer 0:24
a
0:30
b
0:23 0:23 0:26
a
0:36
b
0:22
a
0:30
b
Total media exposure 7:21 7:37 7:25 7:03 7:41 8:09 6:53 7:29
Proportion of total media time devoted to:
Television 38
a
41
b
46 45 40
a
46
b
30 32
Other screen media 11 12 14 16 10 11 10 10
Video games 2
a
9
b
4
a
9
b
2
a
9
b
2
a
8
b
Reading 12
a
11
b
16 14 12
a
9
b
10 9
Audio media 31
a
21
b
15
a
10
b
30
a
18
b
43
a
36
b
Computer 6
a
7
b
5 6
b
5
a
7
b
6 6
Source: Adapted from Kids and Media in America, by D. F. Roberts and U. G. Foehr, 2004, Cambridge, England: Cambridge University
Press. Reprinted with permission.
Note: Figures sharing a superscript within a row do not differ at the p = .05 level of significance.
Emerging Issues 853
with something more physically active, educationally
rewarding, or socially constructive (Comstock & Schar-
rer, 1999). The concern about the sedentary nature of
time spent with screen media has reached a new inten-
sity in light of recent links between television viewing
hours and obesity in adults (Hu, Li, Colditz, Willett, &
Manson, 2003; Jakes et al., 2003) and children (R. E.
Anderson, Crespo, Bartlett, Cheskin, & Pratt, 1998;
Berkey, Rockett, Gillman, & Colditz, 2003; Crespo
et al., 2001; W. Dietz & Gortmaker, 1985; Gortmaker
et al., 1996; Lowry, Wechsler, Galuska, Fulton, & Kann,
2002; Proctor et al., 2003). The Rideout et al. (2003)
data representing very young children found that heavy
television viewers (watching 2 or more hours per day)
spent less time playing outdoors than lighter viewers.
Rideout and colleagues also report that among the 4- to
6-year-olds in their national sample, heavy television
viewers spent significantly less time reading than other
children. This is consistent with past research pointing
to televisions role in the reduction of time spent reading
among young children (Comstock & Scharrer, 1999;
Heyns, 1976; Medrich et al., 1982). As we have pointed
out, displacement of time by television viewing that
might be spent on more educationally rewarding activi-
ties has consequences for scholastic performance. Video
games exacerbate this problem because the games most
preferred by young people would be unlikely to fulfill an
educational function (Roberts & Foehr, 2004). In con-
trast, considerable proportions of the time that children
and teenagers spend with computers and the Internet
pertain to schoolwork and/or information acquisition, in
addition to the more pervasive entertainment (via
games) and communication (via e-mail, chatting, and in-
stant messaging) functions (Roberts & Foehr, 2004).
Other consequences of media use by young people
and adolescents stem from exposure to particular types
of content. The new, interactive media do little to allay
or replace such concerns. The vast, unregulated domin-
ion that is the Internet has been criticized for allowing
young computer users to easily access pornographic ma-
terial, perhaps even unwittingly (Mitchell, Finkelhor, &
Wolak, 2003). Studies of video game content have found
that portrayals paralleland sometimes even exceed
the narrow depictions of gender and sexualized female
characters (Beasley & Collins Standley, 2002; T. Dietz,
1998; Scharrer, 2004; Ward Gailey, 1993) and the preva-
lent role for violence (T. Dietz, 1998; Scharrer, 2004;
S. L. Smith, Lachlan, & Tamborini, 2003; Thompson &
Haninger, 2001) found in television.
The accounts by Montgomery (2001) and Tarpley
(2001) specifically focus on these perils. Montgomery
points out that the Internet offers new and potentially
lucrative means to market to young children and
teenagers. In addition to the home shopping model,
which is plain enough in its intent and purpose, the In-
ternet makes possible the construction of Web sites built
around characters and activities appealing to young peo-
ple, with the goal not of selling today but of building
favorable brand images for purchases in the distant to-
morrow: of autos, watches, clothing, cosmetics. Thus,
the Internet opens the way to a degree of manipulation
far beyond that achieved by directing advertising to chil-
dren too young to comprehend its vested self-interest.
Tarpley, on the other hand, points to the unregulated and
extraordinary breadth of user access as posing both
threats and opportunities. Chat rooms offer access to in-
formation and exchanges involving sex, violence, and
racial and political hatred, as well as informationsuch
as building a bomb in the basementthat cannot be said
to denote or connote pleasant or constructive outcomes.
At the same time, the Internet offers the opportunity to
pursue educational offerings, such as specialized tutor-
ing and unusual subjects, and the possibility of socializ-
ing and participating in group endeavors that by its
comparative anonymity may give respite to the shy or
otherwise somewhat disenfranchised while also offering
possibilities, ranging into the lurid, for young users to
disguise their age, gender, race, and opinions.
The very nature of interactive media has led to new
anxieties about their potential to exacerbate media ef-
fects. Video and computer games inspire a high degree
of involvement in the action, trigger more intense identi-
fication with characters, and feature a reward structure
in which new levels or components of the game are
offered to those who perform well, among other differ-
ences that may make them more hazardous than tele-
vision (Gentile & Anderson, 2003). As Calvert (1999,
p. 36) explains:
The child is the aggressor in the newtechnologies, the player
of the video or the virtual game. These games certainly am-
plify personal involvement, because the child identifies
more with the character that wins or loses. The child who
plays the game directly experiences success or failure when
his or her own behaviors lead to those outcomes.
Although no comparative studies pit television vio-
lence influence against video game violence influence,
recent research has indicated that concern about the
854 Media and Popular Culture
latter may be warranted. An increasing number of
studies (C. A. Anderson & Dill, 2000; Calvert & Tan,
1994; Gentile, Lynch, Linder, & Walsh, 2004; Kirsch,
1998; Silvern & Williamson, 1987) as well as two
meta-analyses (C. A. Anderson & Bushman, 2001;
Sherry, 2001) have documented a link between playing
violent games and aggression.
In general, the contemporary child or teenager in the
United States and, for the most part, around the world has
a veritable cornucopia of media at his or her disposal each
day and turns very frequently to screen mediavideo
games, computers, and televisionfor entertainment, in-
formation, and communication. The pervasive role of
media in the lives of young people has sparked parental
concerns that stem from the sheer amount of time spent as
well as from consternation about the content to which
they are exposed, with violence consistently among the
most frequently voiced worries. Although the V-chip and
television program labels represent a historical moment
for media and public policy and allow parents the means
to exercise some control over the content to which their
children are exposed, considerable hurdles currently exist
that severely constrain their effective use. Parental nego-
tiation of the media-saturated world of youngsters re-
mains a difficult task.
CONCLUSION
The social and behavioral science research on the roles
of media and popular culture in the lives of children and
teenagers has provided information that has increased
knowledge, helped to build theory, and has had implica-
tionsif not always fulfilledfor policymaking and
parenting. Previously, media and popular culture had
occasionally drawn the attention of those concerned
with the welfare of the young, as exemplified by the 13-
volume Payne Fund studies of the movies in the 1930s
(Charters, 1933) and the campaign by New York psychi-
atrist Frederic Wertham (1954) in the 1950s against
comic books as a school for violence and crime in such
books as Seduction of the Innocent. But it was the intro-
duction of television that initiated the modern scrutiny
by scientific methods of young peoples use of media
and popular culture. The two landmarks were the large-
scale examinations of the effects of the introduction of
the medium, involving thousands of young people and
hundreds of parents and teachers, in the United States
by Schramm et al. (1961) and in Great Britain by Him-
melweit, Oppenheim, and Vince (1958). Soon, papers,
journal articles, and eventually books by those in child
development, social psychology, sociology, and commu-
nication began to appear. Although any given study can
become the subject of debate over the legitimacy of its
data collection, the appropriateness of the interpreta-
tions by the author(s), and the generalizability of the
findings to other populations or other circumstances, we
believe the proper response is to seek out patterns from
the total accumulation of studies as we have done here.
In approaching the literature from this perspective, we
agree with the recent conclusion of Roberts and Foehr
(2004, p. 6) that the past half-century represents a
research tradition that has demonstrated clearly that
media messages can influence childrens and adoles-
cents beliefs, attitudes, and behavior across a wide
range of topic areas.
Our major conclusions, which emphasize television
and other screen media because of their very large place
in the media budgets of most young persons, begin with
the recognition that a wide array of media are used reg-
ularly by most young people, many younger children and
most of those older have access to these media in the pri-
vacy of their bedroom, and substantial amounts of media
time are spent alone, without the company of peers or
the presence of parents. The amount of time allocated to
media among those who are their greatest fans is ex-
traordinary, but even among those who use media com-
paratively sparsely access and use are substantial. Most
of what is offered and most of what is consumed is en-
tertainment, so the experience is enjoyable and reward-
ing, but content of cultural and educational value is
dwarfed by entertainment (this is particularly visible in
the television schedule).
We conclude, despite the consistently inverse associ-
ations between amount of viewing and scholastic
achievement, that only the minority who spend many
hours per day viewing are at risk for the displacement of
skill acquisition by television and interference with the
quality of homework, intellectual tasks, and reading that
would diminish scholastic performance. However, we
are not so conservative regarding the evidence that tele-
vision facilitates tastes and preferences that favor plots,
topics, and themes similar to those found on television
and in comic books, and a contemptuous disdain for
books as dull and boring. This cultivation of tastes and
preferences, while certainly enhanced by greater view-
ing ( because the evidence in its behalf is correlational),
References 855
in our judgment would probably affect a much greater
proportion because so many view substantial amounts
enough for these effects to occurin terms of the kind
of dispositions with which we are here concerned.
We conclude that children under the age of 8 are de-
ceived by television advertising because at this early
stage of cognitive development they cannot usually un-
derstand the self-interested motive of the advertiser
(to sell, a necessary component, is beyond the grasp
of most). This, and the evidence on persuasion and nu-
trition along with the climate of manipulation, was
thought by the FTC to be enough for regulatory action,
but political opposition foreclosed this option.
We conclude, based on seven meta-analyses and our
interpretation of several significant individual studies,
that violent entertainment facilitates aggressive and anti-
social behavior and that this effect extends beyond inci-
vility to behavior that is seriously harmful. Experiments
document that young persons of all ages engage in greater
aggressive behavior after exposure to violent portrayals.
Surveys attest that young people who view greater
amounts of violent entertainment engage more frequently
in aggressive and antisocial behavior, and nowhere do the
data indicate that this is attributable wholly to any other
variable than the influence of television, including any
preference of those who are particularly aggressive for
violent entertainment. In our interpretation, the general-
izability of the experiments is confirmed by the surveys;
the two jointly make a case that is much stronger than
either taken alone.
We conclude that the codes labeling programs for
adult, sexual, and violent content are helpful to con-
cerned parents, although the codes are not widely under-
stood. We observed that the television industry has
incentives to avoid such labels because they draw contro-
versy and reduce what can be charged for advertising
time, so there should be no surprise that more than the
occasional program that merits a label goes unlabeled or
that a label sometimes seems insufficient for the content.
Finally, we conclude that despite technological devel-
opments of great importance, at the present time the tra-
ditional media, especially television, account for the
large majority of media use by children and teenagers. It
remains the major medium of the young even among
those who use the media the least. Nevertheless, the
VCR and DVD, increasingly available in the unsuper-
vised bedrooms of the young, increase the viewing of
theater movies, and these movies sometimes will be
rated for audiences that are older than those who now
will be able to view them. These two devices, along with
interactivity, make available content that often is more
involving emotionally and cognitively than most televi-
sion programming. They also make it possible to focus
on a narrow range of content. Technological develop-
ments promote private consumption, access, involve-
ment, and exclusivity in regard to content. As a result,
the recent surgeon generals report on youth violence
(U. S. Department of Health and Human Services, 2001)
speculates that technology will enhance media influence
on the young (and perhaps beyond effects on aggressive
and antisocial behavior). The most recent data available
(Roberts & Foehr, 2004) indicate that young people
were not yet using computers very much outside of
school, but those who did used them more than twice as
much as the per capita figure. This pattern identifies a
medium that currently is enthusiast-based compared to
the universal appeal of television. We expect per capita
use to increase with greater access. Technology, as
would be expected, is an area for continuing attention to
the changes that it may bring to media use. However, it
would be our expectation that screen-based media, such
as television, VCR, and DVD use, and theater movies in
toto will remain paramount because other electronic
media will not supplant them in supplying undemanding
but enjoyable and occasionally absorbing entertainment,
sports, and news.
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864
CHAPTER 21
Childrens Health and Education
CRAIG T. RAMEY, SHARON LANDESMAN RAMEY, and ROBIN G. LANZI
THE CONNECTION BETWEEN HEALTH AND
EDUCATION 866
DEFINING BASIC TERMS: HEALTH, EDUCATION,
AND DEVELOPMENT 866
APPLIED BIOSOCIAL CONTEXTUAL
DEVELOPMENT: A CONCEPTUAL FRAMEWORK
FOR UNDERSTANDING, DESIGNING, AND
TESTING INTERVENTIONS TO IMPROVE
CHILDRENS HEALTH AND EDUCATION 867
OVERVIEW OF APPLICATION OF THE MODEL TO
EARLY INTERVENTION RESEARCH 870
THE NATIONAL HEAD START-PUBLIC SCHOOL
EARLY CHILDHOOD TRANSITION
DEMONSTRATION PROJECT: A 31-SITE
RANDOMIZED TRIAL TO PROVIDE
COMPREHENSIVE HEAD START-LIKE
SUPPORTS TO CHILDREN AND FAMILIES
FROM KINDERGARTEN THROUGH
THIRD GRADE 871
Study Purpose and History 871
Application of the Conceptual Framework to the Design
and Evaluation of the Intervention 871
Measurement of Inputs, Processes, and Outcomes 874
Selected Findings from the National Transition
Demonstration Study about Childrens Health and
Education 874
PRINCIPLES OF EFFECTIVE INTERVENTION
SUPPORTED BY LONGITUDINAL RESEARCH ON
CHILDRENS HEALTH AND EDUCATION 877
The Principle of Dosage 877
The Principle of Timing 879
The Principle of Direct Receipt of Services 880
The Principle of Differential Benefits 882
The Principle of Continuity of Supports 884
KEY FEATURES OF COLLABORATIVE AND
COMMUNITY PARTICIPATORY RESEARCH 885
Universities and Public Policy 886
SUMMARY 888
REFERENCES 890
Childrens health and education can be facilitated by
systematic supports that span traditional and innovative
health care, health promotion, and disease prevention
and that apply scientific principles about how young
children learn and develop. Conversely, childrens de-
velopment can be impaired by disease and injury,
nonoptimal lifestyle, the presence of multiple risk fac-
tors, and the failure to receive high-quality experiences
to promote cognitive, social-emotional, and physical
well-being.
During the past half-century, a new field has
emergedprevention developmental science (e.g., Bryant,
Windle, & West, 1997; Coie et al., 1993)that systemati-
cally integrates theories and methods from the broad
fields of public health, psychology, medicine, sociology,
and education to improve developmental outcomes for
children at risk for a wide variety of poor outcomes in
health and education. Exciting integrative advances in de-
velopmental neuroscience have conjoined with prevention
science to fuel design and implementation of studies about
the fundamental interconnectedness of childrens health
and education (e.g., C. T. Ramey & Ramey, 2004a; Teti,
2004). Indeed, many of the health disparities and in-
equities in childrens educational attainment are likely the
result of this complex interplay between health and educa-
tion (e.g., Livingston, 2004).
David Satcher, 16th surgeon general of the United
States and now director of the National Center for Pri-
mary Health Care at Morehouse School of Medicine, has
used what is termed a health disparities lens to bring
into focus the huge toll taken on the well-being of many
individuals from historically marginalized and minority
Childrens Health and Education 865
groups, especially children of color and children with
disabilities. Satcher (2004, p. xxxi) summarized:
Although major progress has been made in reducing mor-
bidity and mortality, as well as increasing the life ex-
pectancy among vulnerable and at-risk populations, such
as African Americans, the ethnic divide continues to
widen. As a matter of fact, in some cases it has even gotten
worse! Because we are essentially dealing with the inher-
ent complexities of human behavior on the micro or indi-
vidual level, which are inextricably tied to ongoing factors
and conditions at the macro or societal level, the reasons
for the lack of more substantial improvements over the en-
suring years are complex. . . . To suffice, however, it can
be reasoned that increased vulnerability to adverse health
among [targeted subgroups] is differentially mediated by
various environmental factors and conditions. All of these
factors and conditions serve to influence individuals per-
sonal choices concerning health lifestyle choices; avail-
ability, accessibility, and acceptability of services; and,
ultimately, impact negatively on their physiologic func-
tioning, hence the current health disparities dilemma. At
the risk of oversimplifying a complex situation, what is
desperately needed at the macro level is health-care re-
form to guide the nations policies and research agenda.
We concur that such health care reform is imperative,
and argue further that the need for educational reform is
equally compelling. Satchers (2004) observations about
vulnerability apply soundly to educational inequities as
well as to health.
For more than 3 decades, we and many other develop-
mental scientists have constructed broad conceptual
frameworks that build on biological systems theory
(e.g., Bertalanffy, 1975; Miller, 1978) and social ecol-
ogy and Gestalt theory (e.g., Binder, 1972; Bronfenbren-
ner, 1977, 1979; Lewin, 1936, 1951; Stokols, 1992,
1996) and extended it to delineate social transactions
(cf. Lewis, 1984; C. T. Ramey & Ramey, 1998a;
Sameroff, 1983) that shape the course of individual de-
velopment. These conceptual frameworks incorporate
fundamental assumptions about the interconnectedness
of the individual and the environment, biology and be-
havior, and the dynamic nature of changes over time.
Similarly, developmental science has acknowledged that
dividing the child into separate functional strands of
developmentsuch as perceptual, motor, cognitive, so-
cial, emotional, and physical growthis largely arbi-
trary, based on historical disciplinary fields in which
different aspects of human functioning were studied and
treated. Today, the evidence compellingly supports the
strong interdependencies among multiple domains (out-
comes) of development; that is, a childs development is
more aptly depicted as intertwined, overlapping, and
codetermined by influences within and outside the child.
The historical disciplinary isolation in both academia
and clinical and educational practices that serve children
(e.g., education, pediatrics, psychiatry, social work, psy-
chology, rehabilitation, nutrition, physical education)
contributes to the lack of a common language and an ac-
knowledged awkwardness in finding words to capture
this more integrated transdisciplinary and biosocial
perspective. Many developmental and biological scien-
tists have demonstrated the inadequacy of simplistic
nature-versus-nurture formulations of development (e.g.,
Borkowski, Ramey, & Bristol-Powers, 2002; Moser,
Ramey, & Leonard, 1990; Shonkoff & Phillips, 2000);
comparably, others have highlighted the flaws of trying
to measure independent contributions of the environment
to the individual, and vice versa (e.g., Landesman-Dwyer
& Butterfield, 1983; Lewis, 1984; S. L. Ramey, 2002).
We, too, struggle to overcome the dominance of the older
ways of thinking. This is reflected in the fact that we still
emphasize that health includes mental health, that cogni-
tion also refers to social and emotional cognition, and
that social competence is more than behavioral interac-
tions but includes mental representations and problem
solving in the social realm. Indisputably, brain and be-
havior are interdependent, perhaps fundamentally insep-
arable; but current measurement strategies and analytic
frameworks constrain how we formulate the role of chil-
drens experiences in their biological and psychosocial
behavioral development, and how health impinges on ed-
ucation and vice versa.
In this chapter, we describe the broad conceptual
framework with which we have been working, known as
applied biosocial contextual development (ABCD), that
considers health and education as key outcomes influ-
enced by individual, family, and environmental contexts
and processes, incorporating biological and behavioral
factors. We then present an example of a multidiscipli-
nary, longitudinal, large-scale, randomized trial that
embraced this conceptual framework to inform study
conceptualization, design, measurement, and analytic
strategy. We selectively highlight both health and edu-
cational outcomes from these studies. Next, we identify
five principles of effective early childhood interven-
tions, supported by results from a wide array of random-
ized controlled trials (RCTs) of early childhood health
and education interventions. We conclude that there is
866 Childrens Health and Education
great potential to apply theoretical, technological, and
practical advances in innovative ways to improve chil-
drens well-being, to reduce health disparities, and to
ensure educational adequacy for all children (S. L.
Ramey & Ramey, 2000). We outline key features of
community collaborative and participatory research and
recommend that universities, scientific organizations,
advocacy groups, philanthropy, government agencies,
and professional practices seek new alliances that tran-
scend the historical and political boundaries that con-
tributed to unduly complex, inefficient, and often
ineffective systems for the delivery of health and educa-
tion supports and for vigorous scientific inquiry.
THE CONNECTION BETWEEN HEALTH
AND EDUCATION
Higher levels of educational attainment have long been
associated with better health status among adults, and
poor health among children is widely recognized as an
impediment to full participation in formal education (cf.
Waldfogel & Danziger, 2001). That both educational at-
tainment and health status are closely linked to socio-
economic status, residential conditions, and the presence
of major disabilities also is irrefutable. What has not
been explored carefullyparticularly via prospective,
longitudinal scientific inquiry with ethnically and eco-
nomically diverse populationsare the ways health and
education mutually and dynamically influence the
course of a childs life, and how educational and health
factors in turn influence subsequent generations.
DEFINING BASIC TERMS: HEALTH,
EDUCATION, AND DEVELOPMENT
To help promote a common language for the field of
young childrens health and education, we provide ex-
plicit definitions of basic terms. We endorse the World
Health Organizations (World Health Organization,
2005) definition of health as the state of complete
physical, mental and social well-being and not merely the
absence of disease or infirmity. The WHO definition
was once considered revolutionary, with its emphasis on
health as multifaceted, its endorsement of the centrality
of mental and social well-being, and its position that
health was fundamentally synonymous with complete,
optimal human functioning.
We regret that the term education is frequently
used in a quite narrow way to refer only to the formal
system of external supports to instruct children academ-
ically, often reducing education to a variable measured
as years of education, or most advanced degree
earned. Alternatively, we advocate a broader definition
of education intended to reflect an individuals actual
attainment and application of knowledge and skills. The
Random House Dictionary of the English Language,
second edition, Websters unabridged (1987, p. 621),
defines education as the active process of imparting or
acquiring general knowledge, developing the powers of
reasoning and judgment, and generally of preparing one-
self or others intellectually for mature life. Education,
thus defined, encompasses many life experiences out-
side of formal schooling and didactic instruction. Unde-
niably, one of the major childhood tasks is to do well in
school and to participate in the formal system of educa-
tion; yet increasingly, social and life skills are recog-
nized by educators and parents as vital to a childs
learning. In this chapter, we use the term education to
represent the childs own acquisition of intellectual com-
petencies, including practical, creative, and logical-
deductive thinking. As such, education is a measurable,
multifaceted child outcome, just as health is.
We use the term development to capture an ongo-
ing set of biological, psychological, and social processes
that result in measurable change(s) at the individual
level that ref lect increasing dif ferentiation and hierar-
chical integration of functions. Development is often
described in everyday terms such as increased compe-
tencies, greater maturity, and more refined and adapt-
able skills, which in turn help a child prepare for a large
number of diverse and often unexpected encounters and
life challenges. Development progresses in ways that
alter both internal functioning and external behavior.
Internal functioning includes sensory and motor percep-
tions, feelings, thinking, remembering, and metacogni-
tive strategies that help a child to govern his or her
plans, reasoning, and actions; external behavior spans
basic actions to complex performance in everyday situa-
tions and in formal evaluations or tests of skill, knowl-
edge, and problem solving. Development can include
incremental, steady changes as well as major transfor-
mations and the emergence of new classes of behaviors
at different times and stages of life. Ultimately, devel-
Applied Biosocial Contextual Development 867
opment is purposive, such that development contributes
to the individuals increased adaptability and effective-
ness of thoughts and behavior, including social transac-
tions, which in turn promote the individuals ability to
understand the world and successfully contribute in an
ethically principled and constructive manner to his or
her society and its future.
Collectively, these terms characterize important uni-
versal goals for children: that children develop in ways
that promote their health and their education and that
childrens health and education directly contribute to
and are part of their development.
APPLIED BIOSOCIAL CONTEXTUAL
DEVELOPMENT: A CONCEPTUAL
FRAMEWORK FOR UNDERSTANDING,
DESIGNING, AND TESTING
INTERVENTIONS TO IMPROVE
CHILDRENS HEALTH AND EDUCATION
Figure 21.1 presents the conceptual framework with
which we work, named applied biosocial contextual
development (C. T. Ramey, MacPhee, & Yeates, 1982;
C. T. Ramey & Ramey, 1998a; S. L. Ramey & Ramey,
1992). ABCD incorporates both health and education
as explicit outcomes, through pathways that represent
multiple levels and sources of influence on a childs
development. ABCD is well-suited for designing, im-
plementing, and evaluating early interventions and
preventive programs to improve childrens health and
education outcomes, because ABCD addresses the
whole child in the childs natural multiple settings and
environments.
In the left column of Figure 21.1, the box labeled
Child is centered within the Family, because young chil-
dren are dependent on the care of others (note: As a con-
vention, we capitalize words that denote major
components in the figure). The term Family means
those caring for the child, regardless of whether they re-
side together, and recognizing that roles and legal rela-
tionships may fluctuate over time. Family identifies
those people who assume the ethical, practical, and legal
responsibility for a child. Next, the child and family are
surrounded by eight boxes indicating major domains of
functioning and influence. The status of the child and
family in each domain is hypothesized to be interre-
lated. A holistic picture of a child and family is a central
feature of ABCD, such that study of one aspect of devel-
opment, such as a childs health status or a childs read-
ing achievement, is likely to be advanced through more
comprehensive study of what is happening in multiple
domains of the childs and the familys life. Though this
is cumbersome for research and for those who imple-
ment interventions to improve child outcomes, the fail-
ure to recognize this reality often becomes a serious
obstacle to realizing desired comprehensive outcomes.
The eight domains are Survival Resources to meet the
childs and familys basic needs; Health and Nutrition;
Safety and Security; Appraisal of Self; Motivation and
Values related to child and family functioning; Social
Support; Communication Skills; and Basic Academic,
Social, and Work Skills.
Figure 21.1 shows multiple influences on the eight
functional domains, deriving from (a) the Community
Context, with its specific Community Resources; and
( b) Biology and Prior Experiences. The Community
Context can be measured from the closely proximal to
more distal relationships in the young childs life, and
includes Community Resources, such as Social and
Child Care Supports, Supports for Learning, Physical
Supports, Health Services, and School Systems. For
young children, these community resources often di-
rectly influence their health and education status, with
resources impinging on family supports for the child
(e.g., job training and literacy, parenting programs, sub-
stance abuse and mental health treatments for family
members) and sometimes directly affecting the child
(e.g., exposure to toxic substances, risk while in child
care, supports from school readiness programs). Of
equal theoretical importance are influences subsumed
in the lower box labeled Biology and Prior Experiences.
These include Intergenerational Influences, Individual
Biology, and the cumulative experiences of a child and
the childs family members. We admit that trying to dis-
play a dynamic, ever-changing systems theory in a two-
dimensional, static, black-and-white format that fits
onto one page is a nearly insurmountable challenge, and
we judge our pictorial representation to be limited in
adequately reflecting the complex pathways and feed-
back loops that are so eloquently identified by David
Satcher (2004; see earlier quote). A video representa-
tion illustrating how distinctive, time-distributed inputs
and processes would be a more suitable format for cap-
turing the ABCD framework. For now, the words and
868 Childrens Health and Education
Figure 21.1 Applied biosocial contextual development (ABCD): a conceptual framework for health and education interventions.
Health
Physical
Mental
Social
Education
Knowledge
Skills
Achievement
(Performance)
Personal
Constructs
Ethics/Values
Engagement
Enjoyment
Outcomes Processes Inputs
Health Promotion
and Health Care
Health Care
- Accessible
- Appropriate
- Acceptable
Healthy Lifestyle
Behaviors
Education
Programs and
Supports
At School
At Home
In the
Community
Social Support
and Services
Instrumental
Informational
Emotional
Affiliative
Social-Emotional
Poor Quality
Childcare and
Education
Poor Parenting
Practices
Neglect
Societal
External Threats
to Community
Lack of Adequate
Information and
Education
Economic Turmoil
Racism and
Discrimination
Physical Risks
Crime and
Violence
Toxins
Unsafe
Environments
Abuse
Promotive Processes
Harmful Factors and Stressors
Family
Child
Social
Support
Motivation
and Values
Appraisal
of Self
Safety and
Security
Health and
Nutrition
Survival
Resources
Basic
Academic,
Social and
Work Skills
Comm-
unicaton
Skills
Biology and Prior Experiences
e.g., Intergenerational Influences,
Individual Biology, Previous Child
and Family Experience
Community Context
e.g., Location, Demography/Diversity, Economic
and Political Climate, Infrastructure, Neighborhood
Community Resources
Social and
Child Care
Supports
Supports
for
Learning
Physical
Supports
Health
Services
School
Systems
S
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= Inputs
= Processes
= Outcomes
Key to Model
the readers own comprehension of the extensive devel-
opmental science findings of the past century will have
to suffice.
As a systems theory, a fundamental premise of
ABCD is that changes in the child and the family serve
to alter both biology and experiences, as well as to pos-
sibly alter community context and community resources,
particularly when children and families change in ways
that affect the availability, the appropriateness, and/or
the acceptability of prior community resources.
Together, the childs functioning in all of the major
domains serves to undergird what are defined as out-
comes, that is, the formal assessment at a specified time
or a sequential portrayal of a childs status at multiple
time points (i.e., developmental trajectory). We ac-
knowledge that there is considerable ambiguity and cir-
cularity in separating an outcome from a childs
functioning. In fact, we think these are one and the
same, in many cases, because the very processes inextri-
cably linked to a childs development are what become
Applied Biosocial Contextual Development 869
part of the measurement of an identified outcome. For
example, a childs experiences in the realm of language
and how a child functions in terms of everyday commu-
nication and academic aspects of language and literacy
are actually simultaneously developmental processes
and developmental outcomes. In the realm of health, for
instance, how a childs body handles the metabolism of
carbohydrates is part of what defines an outcome related
to hyperglycemia (e.g., risk for or presence of diabetes).
Typically, the term outcome is one of convenience for
clinical, administrative, and research purposes, as a
check on the childs status at a moment in time. Some-
times, an outcome is represented in terms of a more
global and personally meaningful or valued outcome,
such as doing well in school, which is a composite or
multifaceted outcome with many indicators rather than
a single measure. Rarely are outcomes amenable to mea-
surement in absolute terms, even when the outcome is a
biomedical marker. For example, over the past several
decades, the clinical definitions used to diagnose dia-
betes, childhood obesity, and childhood autism have
changed considerably (they are relative definitions, not
absolutes). Similarly, intellectual and education out-
comes rely primarily on nationally normed standardized
tests, which means that approximately half of all chil-
dren will always be classified as below national aver-
age, even if all children realized considerable gains in
absolute levels of academic achievement. Accordingly,
when selecting outcomes, scientists and practitioners
benefit from seeking a consensus about what are posi-
tive, valued, and adaptive health and education out-
comes for young children. Outcomes can never be
value-free, although the measurements can become in-
creasingly well specified, standardized, and scored in
ways that allow valid comparisons of changes over time,
cohorts, and contexts.
This values and relativistic perspective is part of the
reason the name of our conceptual model includes the
term contextual. Applied biosocial contextual devel-
opment is basically an inductive framework to promote
incorporating new findings and greater specificity and
directionality to its components, and eventually to in-
form interventions that are designed to be maximally ef-
fective and efficient in yielding desired (valued) child
health and education outcomes.
In the realm of outcomes (depicted as octagons on the
far right of Figure 21.1), we display the well-recognized
areas of Health and Education, as well as a third out-
come to encompass dimensions of a childs life that do
not easily fit within health and education. We hearken
back to the pioneering work of George Kelly (1955),
who advanced the concept of personal constructs.
Kellys innovative contribution was to bring a phenome-
nological (personal, experiential) perspective to bear on
the major issues in psychology. How an individual un-
derstands his or her world, and the personal value as-
signed to experiences, is an undeniable filter, one that
perhaps has been overlooked for too long in the field of
developmental science. Similarly, Vygotsky (1978) ad-
vanced the theory that consciousness was an end product
of socialization, and explicitly identified a cognitive-
cultural component that served a central role in creating
the childs individual reality. Rarely are these dimen-
sions included in the study of young childrens health
and education. By explicitly including this personal con-
structs dimension, ABCD advances the idea that chil-
dren may respond differently (i.e., in an idiographic
way) to the same environmentseven environments con-
sidered good or bad for most childrenand that the
reasons for differential responding transcend variables
such as age, gender, ethnicity, skill level, and pres-
ence/absence of major health conditions. Also, we pro-
vide examples of meaningful dimensions of life such as
Ethics/ Values, Engagement, Enjoyment, and Perceived
Social Support because they capture highly valued as-
pects of life that are not included in conventional out-
come measures of health and education.
The processes hypothesized to influence outcomes
(depicted in circles in the center of Figure 21.1) are rep-
resented in terms of two major types: Promotive
Processes and Harmful Factors and Stressors. Depend-
ing on the focus of a study and an intervention, greater
or lesser specificity about the particular types of
processes is needed. Childrens outcomes, in general,
are hypothesized to be supported by Educational Pro-
grams and Supports at School, Home, and in the Com-
munity; by Social Support and Services that provide
Instrumental, Informational, Emotional, and Affiliative
support (e.g., Reid, Ramey, & Burchinal, 1990); and by
Health Promotion and Health Care, including Healthy
Lifestyle Behaviors. Even when children receive promo-
tive supports, their development can be threatened by
Harmful Factors and Stressors. These represent actual
risks the child experiences directly, not merely the com-
munity or family context that may increase or decrease
the probability that risks will occur. Harm can occur in
870 Childrens Health and Education
many domains, including the childs physical, social and
emotional, and personal constructs development. In gen-
eral, harmful factors and stressors have exerted a strong
effect on childrens outcomes, although there has been
high interest in children who appear resilient, invulnera-
ble, or successful in overcoming these risk factors (e.g.,
Garmezy, 1983; Grotberg, 2003; Rutter, 2000; Werner,
Bierman, & French, 1971).
OVERVIEW OF APPLICATION OF
THE MODEL TO EARLY
INTERVENTION RESEARCH
The ABCD conceptual framework has been used for
several multidisciplinary RCTs of prevention and inter-
vention programs in early childhood. These include the
Abecedarian Project and Project CARE (e.g., Camp-
bell, Pungello, Burchinal, & Ramey, 2001; Campbell,
Ramey, Pungello, Sparling, & Miller-Johnson, 2002;
C. T. Ramey, Bryant, Campbell, Sparling, & Wasik,
1988; C. T. Ramey & Ramey, 1998b; Wasik, Ramey,
Bryant, & Sparling, 1990), which sought to prevent in-
tellectual disabilities and to improve school achieve-
ment among extremely low resource families; the
eight-site RCT called the Infant Health and Develop-
ment Program (IHDP), which adapted the Abecedarian
Project and CARE early intervention program for
use in the first 3 years of life with premature, low-
birthweight infants (e.g., IHDP, 1990; C. T. Ramey
et al., 1992); and the National Head Start-Public
School Transition Demonstration Project conducted in
31 sites to test the effectiveness of 4 continuous years
of comprehensive health and education supports (cf.
S. L. Ramey, Ramey, & Phillips, 1997; S. L. Ramey
et al., 2001; the latter study is described in detail later
in the chapter). All of these studies were grounded in
theory and prior research findings and adopted an ex-
plicit and broad integrative, multidisciplinary concep-
tual framework, derived from ABCD, (a) to inform the
design of the intervention or prevention strategy; ( b) to
select the measurement approach to document inputs,
processes, and outcomes; (c) to guide the data analyses
that considered multiple and intersecting influences on
the major health and education outcomes; and (d) to re-
fine and further specify the nature and magnitude of
influences on child developmental trajectories in spec-
ified developmental domains.
In writing this chapter, we would like to acknowl-
edge that it has not been standard science to endeavor
to conduct a rigorous study of both health and educa-
tion for young children within a single longitudinal
study. Although almost all longitudinal research in de-
velopmental psychology includes some marker-level
variables in health and education, research historically
has been more focused, studying, for example, chil-
drens mental illnesses (usually a particular form of
mental illness), childrens cognitive and academic de-
velopment, childrens social skills and behavioral prob-
lems, or childrens medical illnesses or injuries. These
studies have led to a rich scientific literature in these
discrete but remarkably unlinked fields. The scientific
journals have multiplied and become, in most cases,
narrower and more topic-specific, with only a few inte-
grative and transdisciplinary in their focus. This re-
flects, in large part, the traditional organization of
universities into departments and schools, as well as
the scientific review process that favors proposals that
are more narrowly focused. For an argument in favor of
major university reform to support multidisciplinary
and transdisciplinary scientific inquiry and practice
related to childrens health and education, see S. L.
Ramey and Ramey (1997b) and C. T. Ramey and
Ramey (1997b).
There is strong evidence that the National Institutes
of Health (NIH) has embraced the need for new, innova-
tive, and integrative approacheswith corresponding
implications for university organization and opera-
tionsin the evolving NIH road map (described on the
NIH Web site), as well as the reorganized National Sci-
ence Foundation, the National Academy of Sciences in
the U.S. Department of Education (e.g., see the out-
standing summary of early childhood research by Shon-
koff & Phillips, 2000), and the Institute of Education
Sciences, newly created by the U.S. Congress.
We judge the greatest challenges that derive from
ABCD to be the discovery of ways to support the prepa-
ration of scientists, practitioners, and policy shapers to
work collaboratively and to understand this integrative
worldview of how children develop. An urgent priority
is to align intervention, prevention, and promotion ac-
tivities in productive and open ways with research,
practice, evaluation, and policies to achieve maximal
benefit for children, their families, their communities,
and society at large (S. L. Ramey & Ramey, 2000). An
exceptionally promising line of scientific inquiry di-
rectly addresses the dynamic relationship of a childs
The National Head Start-Public School Early Childhood Transition Demonstration Project 871
education to his or her health and the ways healthier
children may be more likely to benefit from opportuni-
ties to advance their education. In turn, intergenera-
tional effects of increased health and increased
education may convey particular benefits to the next
generation, mediated through interdependent biological
and social mechanisms.
THE NATIONAL HEAD START-PUBLIC
SCHOOL EARLY CHILDHOOD
TRANSITION DEMONSTRATION PROJECT:
A 31-SITE RANDOMIZED TRIAL TO
PROVIDE COMPREHENSIVE HEAD START-
LIKE SUPPORTS TO CHILDREN AND
FAMILIES FROM KINDERGARTEN
THROUGH THIRD GRADE
In this section, we provide an overview of a longitudi-
nal and experimental study that adopted a prevention
science approach to the design and measurement of
systematic, multipronged health and education inter-
ventions to decrease risk and to increase both the edu-
cational competence and the health and well-being of
young vulnerable children. We selected this study be-
cause it represents a well-supported, multiyear effort
to transform the field of early childhood inquiry by en-
gaging individuals from multiple disciplines; working
closely with practitioners, scientists, and policymakers
from the start and throughout the project; establishing
internal and external oversight mechanisms to promote
scientific rigor and integrity; and creating public use
data sets that are amenable to productive secondary
data analyses to advance the field. Within the confines
and intent of this chapter, we do not strive to provide a
compendium of all the findings from this research proj-
ect. Rather, we selectively describe the projects pur-
poses, delineate the key components of the intervention
program and its corresponding data collection strate-
gies, and report some of the findings to date that have
implications for practice, policy, and future large-scale
studies of health and education.
Study Purpose and History
In 1991, the U.S. Congress passed legislation titled the
Head Start Transition Project Act, authorizing funding
to test the value of extending comprehensive and contin-
uous Head Start-like service and supports to children
for the first 4 years of elementary school. Local sites
competed for funding to do the following: (a) develop
promising strategies in which Head Start programs, par-
ents, local education agencies (LEA), and other commu-
nity agencies joined together to plan and implement a
coordinated, continuous program of comprehensive ser-
vices for low-income children and their families begin-
ning in Head Start and continuing through third grade;
( b) to develop ways to support the active involvement of
parents in their education of their children; and (c) to
conduct rigorous research at the local and national lev-
els, using a randomized design to assign children and
schools to the transition demonstration condition or the
comparison group. The 31 funded sites were dispersed
across 30 states and one Indian nation. More than 8,700
former Head Start children were enrolled and nearly
3,000 additional classmates. A distinctive feature of
this intervention was that it was provided for the entire
classroom, rather than just singling out former Head
Start children.
Application of the Conceptual Framework to
the Design and Evaluation of the Intervention
Figure 21.2 shows how ABCD was used to help frame
the conceptualization of the interventions and to repre-
sent, in a general way, how the health and education
components of the intervention were hypothesized to
improve child health and education outcomes. As shown
on the lower left side of the figure, the Planning Stage (a
1-year period) for the Transition Demonstration Pro-
gram involved local adaptation of a national Program
Model that mandated certain components to achieve the
comprehensive Head Start-like feature of the pro-
gram. The model established a Governing Board (with
at least 51% of membership from parents of children to
be served); local decision making regarding Program
Implementation (the logistics of who would be hired,
how local partnerships would be formed and operate,
and specific plans to change Community Resources de-
signed to improve outcomes); and Program Costs (an es-
sential area for ensuring that intervention programs can
be adequately implemented and replicated across sites).
The Planning Stage also involved creating and nurtur-
ing a National Consortium of the 31 sites, with each site
having a three-way partnership of Head Start, the public
schools, and an evaluation team typically at a university
or research firm. At the national level, the consortium
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The National Head Start-Public School Early Childhood Transition Demonstration Project 873
addressed the eight functional domains (represented by
eight boxes surrounding the child and family), endorsing
their importance for the intervention and the research,
and further specifying how these domains would be as-
sessed at the beginning of the study ( baseline) and
throughout the course of the study (4 years).
As Figure 21.2 displays in the Implementation Phase
(identified along the x-axis at the bottom of the figure),
each site was to conduct an individualized Strengths
and Needs Assessment for all participating children
and families. This assessment was referred to as an
Individualized Transition Plan that addressed the
strengths and needs of the child and the family. This as-
sessment was designed to maximize early identification
of any special supports and services for a successful
transition to school. As shown to the right of the oval on
assessment, the major components of the Transition
Demonstration Program are identified in four major
areas: Family Services, Health and Nutrition, Educa-
tion, and Parent Involvement. Collectively, these four
areas constitute the comprehensive Head Start-like ser-
vices. The time period for implementation was from the
planning for kindergarten entry (ideally, in the year
children were served by traditional Head Start) through
each of the next 4 years in public school, with system-
atic efforts to ensure continuity of planning and sup-
ports from grade to grade.
For evaluation, the ABCD conceptualization was
used to identify what would be measured, starting with
descriptions of each local site in terms of the Commu-
nity Context and Community Supports; comprehensive
assessment of the child and familys health and educa-
tion, including multiple measures designed to tap the
constructs in each of the eight functional domains; and
ongoing and annual documentation of program imple-
mentation, combining program participation data from
the local site with external multidisciplinary site visits
during which additional data were collected and the
local site program documentation was verified. In Fig-
ure 21.2, the Transition Demonstration Program ser-
vices are shown to contribute to three general areas
(processes). That is, the intervention program was hy-
pothesized to change childrens health and education
outcomes through three primary pathways. The first was
creating good preparation of children, families, and
schools for the childs adjustment to elementary school.
The Individualized Transition Plan and the process of
creating local partnerships around the topic of positive
school transitions were central features altering the
community- and family-specific context for school
readiness. The second pathway was comprehensive sup-
port for children, families, and schools during the early
years in elementary school. This was hypothesized to
result from the many in-school supports and community-
based activities for children and parents, increased pro-
fessional development activities for educators, and
multiple parent involvement programs to facilitate chil-
drens academic progress. Third, positive expectations
by children, families, and schools for future opportuni-
ties related to learning and school adjustment was in-
cluded as a specific pathway. Measures of this were
obtained by in-depth open-ended and structured inter-
views with families, teachers, principals, and children
themselves.
This project recognized that in many communities,
the poor performance of children in the past set the
stage for low expectations and concomitant dismal pre-
dictions of outcomes for children from low-income fam-
ilies. An explicit component of the intervention was to
change these expectations for academic and life suc-
cess, that is, to create an expectation that the historical
health disparities and educational inequities could be
significantly reduced or eliminated. Collectively, the
processes of increasing preparation for school success,
providing supports for health and education during the
early elementary school years, and increasing expecta-
tions for positive outcomes among a large stakeholder
group surrounding the child are the general pathways
each of which was measured by multiple indicators
throughout the studyconceptualized as producing
positive outcomes.
Finally, Figure 21.2 indicates the outcomes (the
octagons in the far right column) specified for the Tran-
sition Demonstration Project. These agreed-upon out-
comes, building on an earlier shared vision and local
community partnerships and input to the national evalu-
ation, transcend the typical academic indicators of test
scores only, and reflect the fact that outcomes for a
large, intensive intervention or community reform effort
should correspond to ways that the stakeholders actually
think about children and their well-being. Specifically,
we note that some subjective measures are identified as
legitimate outcomes, such as Children have good feel-
ings about school, teachers, parents, and peers (what
most people call liking school and positive school
attitudes), as well as their parents and teachers having
positive attitudes and being actively engaged in
their childrens learning. Although outcomes such as
874 Childrens Health and Education
having mutually supportive relationships among fami-
lies, school personnel, service providers, and communi-
ties can be challenging for researchers to measure,
these are important valid outcomes to target. Of course,
childrens health and educational status are also mea-
sured, but these did not constitute the sole indicators of
effectiveness for this National Transition Demonstra-
tion Program.
By using the ABCD conceptual framework, the prog-
ress of the project and the extent to which goals were re-
alized could be studied in a prospective way, assessing
year-by-year changes at the level of the child, the family,
the school, the health and social service delivery sys-
tem, and the community as a whole. More important, the
steps from Planning through Implementation could be
tracked, so that if intended outcomes did not occur, the
supportive processes could be carefully reviewed to con-
sider likely explanations for differential benefits across
and within the 31 sites.
Measurement of Inputs, Processes, and Outcomes
The ABCD framework facilitated the identification of
constructs to be measured. Table 21.1 presents an
overview of the measures selected and links these to the
ABCD model. (For further details and references about
methodology, see S. L. Ramey et al., 2001.) Note: this
data set is now in the public domain, with supportive
data dictionaries and summary variables available.
Selected Findings from the National Transition
Demonstration Study about Childrens Health
and Education
In this chapter, we chose findings about three topics
often overlooked in conventional studies of childrens
health and education: childrens perceptions about their
school experiences, the developmental trajectory of aca-
demically gifted former Head Start children, and the
ways families protect children from injuries.
Childrens Feelings about School
Childrens feelings about school, as revealed during
a Vygotskian-style dialogue, permitted children as
young as 5 years of age to tell the child assessors how
they felt about things happening in school. The areas
rated by children included how well they got along with
their teacher and peers; how important they and their
parents (separate queries) thought it was to do well in
school; how much they liked school; how well they
thought they were doing in academic areas; and how
good their teacher was at teaching them new things.
The dialogue What I Think of School (Reid et al.,
1990) has good psychometric properties and is sensitive
to individual differences. For example, S. L. Ramey,
Lanzi, Phillips, and Ramey (1998) reported that by the
spring of kindergarten, about 7% of former Head Start
children were having multiple negative perceptions of
school. Especially impressive was the finding that chil-
drens negative early perceptions were highly predictive
of subsequent academic progress in reading and math, as
measured by standardized assessments and teacher rat-
ings, and that childrens feelings about school con-
tributed significant information above and beyond the
measures of their kindergarten-level language, reading,
math, and social skills. Childrens impressions of school
fit within the outcome labeled Personal Constructs in
the ABCD conceptual model (Figure 21.1). We inter-
preted this finding to support the recommendation that
childrens experiences warrant inclusion in almost all
investigations of childrens school adjustment and their
mental and physical well-being. Also, this finding exem-
plifies a practically useful result well suited for sharing
with educators and program staff. That is, in a collabo-
rative style of program research and evaluation, infor-
mation such as this can help inform subsequent changes
in the interventionperhaps to encourage the programs,
teachers, and parents to consider childrens feelings as
important early warning signs that are likely to precede
awareness by the adults that things are not going well.
High-Achieving Low-Income Children
Another interesting set of findings from this multisite,
multidisciplinary longitudinal study concerns identifying
a subgroup of children with exceptionally positive devel-
opment. Analysis sought to understand the supportive and
protective factors in their lives (Robinson, Lanzi, Wein-
berg, Ramey, & Ramey, 2002; Robinson, Weinberg,
Redden, Ramey, & Ramey, 1998). All too often, studies
grounded in a commitment to eliminate the health and ed-
ucational disparities concentrate disproportionately on
the negative outcomes, or the reduction in negative out-
comes. In the process, the presence of highly accom-
plished children and families is overlooked, and negative
stereotypes are reinforced. Analyses such as these are
important for both practical and theoretical reasons. In
the Transition Demonstration Project, for example, the
children who scored in the upper 3% of this former Head
875
Peabody Picture Vocabulary Test Communication X X X X X
Woodcock-Johnson:
Reading Achievement
Math Achievement Academic Skills
X
X
X
X
X
X
X
X
X
X
What I Think of School Motivation and values, related to school and self-
concept X X X X
Writing Sample Academic skills and communication X X
Getting to Know Your Family Motivation, expectations, values, and social support X
Family Background Interview (updated
annually)
Survival resources, health, security, basic skills, and
community context /resources X X X X X
Family Resource Scale Survival resources, security, and social support X X
Family Routines Questionnaire Family context X X
Primary Caregiver Health: Depression Screen Health and security X X X
Social Skills Rating System:
Social Skills
Problem Behavior Basic skills
X X X X
X
X
X
Your Childs Health and Safety Social and health services in the community context and
survival resources X X
Social Skills Rating System:
Social Skills
Problem Behavior
Academic Competence Basic skills
X
X
X
X
X
X
X
X
X
X
X
X
School Survey of Early Childhood Programs
(Part C: 19) School context X X X X
School Climate Survey School context X X X X
Neighborhood Scales School context X X X
Your Childs Adjustment to School Self-concept , motivation/expectations/values (related to
school), social support , and basic skills X X X X
Family Involvement in Childrens Learning Demonstration program context and school program
context X X
Child Health Questionnaire for Teachers Health X X X X
School Climate Survey School context X X X X
Parenting Dimensions Inventory Parent-child transactions and mediating processes X X X
F
K
S
K
S
I
S
2
S
3
TABLE 21.1 Data Collection Schedule for National Transition Development Project
Procedure Functional Domain(s) Addressed
Information from Family
Data Collection Period
Information from Teachers
(continued)
876 Childrens Health and Education
TABLE 21.1 Continued
School Climate Survey School context X X X X
School Survey of Early Childhood Programs
(Part A: 16; Part B: 15) School context X X X X
Information from Existing Records
School Archival Records Search Basic skills and school program context X X X X
Information from Classroom Observation
Assessment Profile for Early Childhood
Programs
Classroom context X X X X
ADAPT (to measure use of developmentally
appropriate practices in the classroom)
Classroom context
X X X X
Procedure Functional Domain(s) Addressed F
K
S
K
S
1
S
2
S
3
Information from Principals
Data Collection Period
Start sample on individually administered standardized
tests of vocabulary, reading, and math came from all eth-
nic groups and many sites; these children also were
highly accomplished by national norms, not just project
norms. In addition to their academic achievements, these
children were thriving socially and emotionally as well,
according to both teacher and parent ratings (although,
interestingly, parents did not rate their children as more
cooperative). The social ecological factors contributing
to the positive outcomes for these children included some
predictable, and some unexpected, factors. For instance,
parents reported significantly fewer stressors in their
lives, but they did not report significantly more family
strengths. Residential stability, somewhat higher father
involvement, fewer single-parent households, and higher
rates of parent high school graduation were predictably
associated with higher-achieving children. Unexpectedly,
however, rates of maternal depression did not differ for
the highest-achieving versus remaining children (25%
versus 23%), and parental Nurturance and Consistency
(factor scores from the Parenting Dimensions Inventory;
Slater & Power, 1987) were comparable for these groups.
What was important were the dimensions of parent Re-
sponsiveness and Nonrestrictiveness, such that children
whose parents endorsed less restrictive parenting prac-
tices and were more responsive to individual child needs
had children with higher academic achievement. Further,
teachers rated parents of the highest-achieving former
Head Start students as more strongly encouraging of their
children to succeed in school, despite the fact that the
parents did not so describe themselves. Parents of the
highest-achieving children did not report discussing
school with their children, being in touch with the
teacher, or participating in planned parent activities at
school more than other parents, but they did report volun-
teering more often at their childs school.
Findings such as these bring into focus the impor-
tance of differentiating subgroups or clusters of chil-
dren and families within a larger at-risk population.
Indeed, in this study, we identified and verified six
major family types, based on the strengths and needs as-
sessments, living in poverty (e.g., C. T. Ramey, Ramey,
& Lanzi, 1998). This type of differentiation permits
study of the likelihood of differential courses of devel-
opment and the importance of different processes to
support children having more or less positive outcomes.
Unintentional Child Injuries
Schwebel, Brezausek, Ramey, and Ramey (2004) ex-
plored childrens unintentional injury risk, the leading
cause of deaths among children 1 to 18 years (National
Safety Council, 2001). At the time we conducted these
analyses, available data supported the view that chil-
drens impulsive, hyperactive behavior patterns served
to increase risk of injury and that poor parenting might
also independently increase injury risk in the same sam-
ples. Remarkably, no analyses had considered whether
active, positive parenting (supportive processes) could
reduce injury among children at risk because of difficult
behavior patterns. Using a logistic regression approach
Principles of Ef fective Intervention Supported by Longitudinal Research on Childrens Health and Education 877
that considered child, parenting, and contextual factors
and their possible interactions, this data set affirmed
that childrens hyperactivity was a strong predictor of
injuries (odds ratio = 28.4). The ABCD conceptualiza-
tion, however, contributed to the important additional
finding that parents report of the adequacy of their
temporal resourcesthat is, time available to parents
for desired activities, including time to be with their
childrenwas a significant protective factor for this
increased-risk group of children. Thus, the family envi-
ronment and parental behavior emerged as key promo-
tive processes. (For further findings about the National
Transition Demonstration Project, see S. L. Ramey,
Ramey, & Lanzi, 2004.)
Collectively, these findings provide a window on
ways to study developmental pathways to alternative
health and education outcomes and to consider how as-
pects of the childs context, initial status of the child and
family, and supportive as well as harmful processes can
alter the course of development and childrens outcomes.
PRINCIPLES OF EFFECTIVE
INTERVENTION SUPPORTED BY
LONGITUDINAL RESEARCH ON
CHILDRENS HEALTH AND EDUCATION
For many decades, the single most pressing question in
early childhood education was simply Do early educa-
tion and health interventions work? There was robust
skepticism that early educational interventions could
alter the cumulative negative toll that poverty and other
risk circumstances take on the development of young
children. But by the mid-1980s, a professional consensus
was reached (cf. Guralnick & Bennett, 1987) that early
educational interventions canunder certain condi-
tionsproduce meaningful benefits, as reflected in the
academic achievement and social progress of young chil-
dren. Just as important, when early interventions fail to
produce intended benefits, the likely reasons are impor-
tant to understand for practice and theory. Given the
cross-study consistencies in findings, we summarize
findings about early educational interventions in terms
of five major scientific principles (C. T. Ramey &
Ramey, 1998a; S. L. Ramey & Ramey, 1992). We postu-
late that these principles are likely to hold true for
health interventions, although there is scant scientific
support from randomized controlled trials designed to
improve the physical health of at-risk children or to pre-
vent prevalent childhood disorders such as asthma, obe-
sity, depression, and chronic dental disease. We have en-
deavored to incorporate health examples, however, as
much as possible, including several dramatic public
health interventions that have altered the Community
Context and Community Supports directly. These five
major principles are (1) the dosage principle, (2) the
timing principle, (3) the direct receipt of services prin-
ciple, (4) the differential benefits principle, and (5) the
continuity of supports principle.
The Principle of Dosage
Programs that provide higher amounts of intervention
(i.e., full dosage) produce greater benefits in health and
education outcomes. This principle of dosage or inter-
vention intensity has considerable scientific support, de-
rived from cross-study comparisons of magnitude of
benefits from multipronged and educational interven-
tions that varied in their dosage, as well as some experi-
mental studies that directly tested different dosage
levels within the same study, and from post hoc analyses
that analyzed rates of participation using sophisticated
analytical techniques. Dosage is indexed in different
ways, for different types of interventions; we caution
that for medical interventions, the intensity principle
refers to administering the full dosage, recognizing that
overdosage could be dangerous.
For educational interventions in the first 8 years of
life, dosage can be indexed by variables such as number
of hours per day, days per week, and weeks per year
that children receive the educational intervention. An
ideal measurewhich has never been calculated, to our
knowledge, in educational interventionswould be the
actual amount of instructional and learning time children
have when they attend, multiplied by the childs atten-
dance. Theoretically, the reason that more intensive pro-
grams produce significantly larger positive effects than
do less intensive programs is straightforward: Children
are engaged in more learning, which in turn supports
their continued growth and development in the domains
in which the learning occurs. For health, the greater the
amount of time spent in health promotion activities and
the greater the compliance with recommended health
care treatments (representing a complex interplay of
availability, accessibility, and acceptability of appropri-
ate services), the healthier the child should be.
Many early interventions do not significantly im-
prove childrens intellectual or academic performance
878 Childrens Health and Education
(see S. L. Ramey & Ramey, 2000, for discussion of some
reasons why these likely fail). A key characteristic of
many of these unsuccessful interventions is that they
were not very intensive. For instance, none of the 16 ran-
domized trials of early interventions for young children
with disabilities or delays evaluated by the Utah State
Early Intervention Research Institute (White, 1991)
provided full-day 5-day/week programs, and none of
these programs produced any measurable benefits for
children in terms of their competencies. Similarly, Scarr
and McCartney (1988) provided intervention only once
per week to economically impoverished families in
Bermuda in an effort to replicate the findings of Leven-
steins (1970) Verbal Interaction Project. They also
failed to detect any positive cognitive effects.
In marked contrast, two RCTs conducted in North
Carolina using the same educational curriculum, the
Abecedarian Project and Project CARE, produced
multiple significant benefits to participants in this high-
dosage educational intervention. The Abecedarian Proj-
ect and Project CARE both provided educational
supports to children within a full-day, 5 days a week, 50
weeks per year program for 5 consecutive years, using a
structured and individualized curriculum delivered in a
high-quality, university-based child development center
that was continuously monitored and supported for qual-
ity of curriculum implementation (C. T. Ramey &
Ramey, 2004a, 2004b, 2004c). To our knowledge, these
two programs are among the most intensive ( high
dosage) that have been subjected to rigorous experimen-
tal study, and the principle of dosage may account for a
large portion of the increased magnitude of benefit de-
tected at ages 8, 12, 15, and 21 years. We particularly
note the benefits for language and literacy, as demon-
strated in significant gains at every age on every lan-
guage measure and all reading assessments (C. T. Ramey
et al., 2000; C. T. Ramey & Ramey, 2004c). Other edu-
cationally important outcomes include markedly lower
rates of placement in special education, reduced from
48% in the comparison group to 12% in the educational
intervention group (close to the national average of
11%), and reduced rates of grade repetition, from 56%
in the control group to 30% in the educational group.
The Milwaukee Project was an RCT that produced
large, immediate benefits in intelligence and language
(Garber, 1988) and provided a high-dosage, daily early
educational intervention from birth through the transi-
tion to school, with a university child development pro-
gram offered daily (see review by S. L. Ramey & Ramey,
2000). However, long-term benefits were not sustained to
the same degree as in the North Carolina projects, per-
haps because of the influence of the principle of continu-
ity of supports and the differences in the enrollment
criteria across these projects (i.e., the North Carolina
projects enrolled on a combination of family risk vari-
ables; the Milwaukee Project enrolled only children born
to mothers with mental retardation).
Two studies provide experimental evidence that pro-
gram intensity matters: An early intervention home
visit program (Grantham-McGregor, Powell, &
Fletcher, 1989) that systematically tested different lev-
els of intensity discovered significant cognitive bene-
fits at a dosage level of three visits per week, whereas
fewer visits per week did not produce any significant
gains, and the Brookline Early Education Project
(Hauser-Cram, Pierson, Walker, & Tivnan, 1991) re-
ported that only the most intensive services were suffi-
cient to benefit children from less well-educated
families, whereas the lowest and intermediate intensi-
ties had no measurable consequences.
The eight-site Infant Health and Development
Program RCT systematically investigated program in-
tensity effects at the level of the individual childs
participation. Originally, C. T. Ramey et al. (1992) re-
ported that the intensity of educational intervention
each child and family received related significantly to
cognitive outcomes at age 3. Dosage was a sum of three
program components: total days the child attended the
child development center between 12 and 36 months;
number of home visits from birth to age 3; and number
of monthly educational meetings the parents attended.
This participation index demonstrated a strong, linear
relationship to the childs intellectual and behavioral de-
velopment at 36 months, even after controlling for vari-
ables that might have influenced individual rates of
participation (such as maternal education, maternal ver-
bal competence, family income, child health status, and
ethnicity). When considering the efficacy of this 3-year,
multipronged educational intervention to prevent mental
retardation (IQ less than 70 points) at age 3, the results
showed that children in the highest participation group
had nearly a nine-fold reduction in the percentage of
low-birthweight children who were mentally retarded
(under 2%), compared with control children who re-
ceived only high-quality pediatric follow-up services
(about 18%). Later, Blair, Ramey, and Hardin (1995)
demonstrated that year-by-year participation rates pro-
duced significant and independent effects on the course
Principles of Ef fective Intervention Supported by Longitudinal Research on Childrens Health and Education 879
of the childs measured cognitive competence at 12, 24,
and 36 months of age.
Hill, Brooks-Gunn, and Waldfogel (2003) extended
these intensity analyses to answer the question Do
longer-term effects, at ages 5 and 8, relate to participa-
tion rates? When the children were 3, 5, and 8 years of
age, multiple assessments of language and cognition were
completed, with the 8-year battery including the full
Wechsler Intelligence Scale for Children (WISC; Verbal,
Performance, and Full-Scale IQ scores), the Woodcock-
Johnson Reading and Math assessments, and the Peabody
Picture Vocabulary Test-Revised (PPVT-R). On 12 major
outcome measures across 3 age periods, all measures
showed higher performance for children in two higher-
participation groups (attending more than 350 days and
attending more than 400 days in the child development
center) relative to the randomly assigned follow-up
group, which received pediatric and social services, but
not the educational component of this multipronged early
intervention. The first set of analyses confirmed that
children who participated at higher rates differed signifi-
cantly from the comparison group, with site-specific dif-
ferences in which variables (e.g., maternal ethnicity,
maternal education, maternal use of drugs, and prenatal
care) correlated with amounts of participation. Accord-
ingly, this team applied a sophisticated set of data-
analytic techniques that are well-known in medical
RCTs, involving an adaptation of a propensity score
matching procedure coupled with logistic regression to
reduce the influence of the natural selection bias when
evaluating treatment effects. The results yielded com-
pelling support for the dosage principle, demonstrating
differences between matched high-dosage and control
children, and between higher- and lower-dosage children
within the treatment group. The magnitude of these dif-
ferences is impressive at all 3 ages analyzed, and extends
to the reading and math scores at age 8, with sustained
benefits of the early educational intervention correspon-
ding to gains of 6.1 to 11.1 points higher (depending on
the definition used for high dosage) on the Woodcock-
Johnson, as well as sustained (although slightly reduced)
benefits at ages 5 and 8 for PPVT (4.1 to 6.6 points at age
8) and WISC IQ scores (6.5 to 8.4 points at age 8).
The Principle of Timing
Generally, when interventions begin earlier and con-
tinue longer, they produce larger and longer-lasting
benefits to the participants than do those that begin
much later and do not last as long. The age when chil-
dren enter early educational interventions ranges from
birth through 8 years of age. Typically, children from
economically disadvantaged families become eligible
for early educational interventions (e.g., Head Start,
public school pre-K for at-risk children) in their home
communities beginning at 4 years of age, and sometimes
at 3 years of age. Many of the well-cited early educa-
tional interventions, however, began when children were
young infants, such as the Abecedarian Project (C. T.
Ramey, Bryant, Campbell, Sparling, & Wasik, 1988;
C. T. Ramey, Yeates, & Short, 1984), the Brookline
Early Education Project (Hauser-Kram et al., 1991), the
Milwaukee Project (Garber, 1988), Project CARE
(Wasik et al., 1990), and the Infant Health and Develop-
ment Program (1990). Two noteworthy exceptions, how-
ever, are the Perry Preschool Project, conducted in
Ypsilanti, Michigan (Schweinhart & Weikart, 1983),
and the Early Training Project (Gray, Ramsey, & Klaus,
1982), which began when children were 3 years of age.
An important difference in these two interventions that
began later in life and did produce significant benefits is
that the children were documented to be significantly
delayed in their cognitive development at age 3, whereas
the other studies that enrolled children earlier sought to
prevent intellectual decline linked to early and contin-
ued impoverished language and learning environments.
The principle of timing has always been one of high
interest and is associated with vigorous debate. Con-
cerning neurobiology and education outcomes, the stun-
ning technology advances to document brain growth and
development, coupled with research on early brain de-
velopment (primarily experimental animal research)
and how experiences shape brain activities lend support,
in a general way, to the principle that earlier and
more sustained educational interventions are especially
promising to maximize benefits to children. Even the
carefully controlled animal experiments on early expe-
rience, which support the general principle of timing, do
not refute the possibility that educational interventions
begun at later ages can produce measurable gains (S. L.
Ramey & Sackett, 2000). One of the most consistently
cited areas that lend support to the principle of timing
comes from the observational research of Kuhl, Tsao,
and Liuh (2003) concerning acquisition of speech and
language perception, demonstrating that an infants ex-
posure (naturally) to his or her first language results in
the loss of a generalized discrimination ability that
existed at earlier ages. This reflects development (see
880 Childrens Health and Education
earlier definition) in which there is increasing selective
differentiation and hierarchical integration, that is hy-
pothesized to facilitate (and to reflect) more efficient,
higher-order functioning. When young infants are not
exposed to certain sensory-perceptual experiences very
early in life, they seem to lose their initial capacity
(such as the universal ability of young babies to recog-
nize phonemes in all languages, later narrowing to rec-
ognize primarily phonemes in their native language).
Just as we cautioned earlier regarding possible nega-
tive effects of overdosage, we recognize that certain
types of interventions may be infeasible, ineffective, or
even iatrogenic (producing unintended negative conse-
quences) if provided too early. There are some historical
examples of this, often given in textbooks, such as a
study that trained babies to walk earlier than usual by
practicing the walking reflex daily, and efforts to teach
complex motor skills to nursery school children. Both
studies found short-term changes, but these seeming
benefits were washed out when the age-typical display
of these motor skills occurred for the control (un-
treated) children.
The Abecedarian Project involved a two-phase educa-
tional intervention, with 50% of the children who
received 5 consecutive years of early educational inter-
vention and 50% in the control group (receiving nutri-
tional, pediatric, and social services only) who were
randomly selected to participate in an elementary
school Home-School Resource Program for 3 consecu-
tive years. This partially tested the issue of timing, of-
fering extra educational supports during the school year
(provided by individualized assistance to children and
their families with schoolwork and school-family com-
munication) and a summer educational camp that sought
to increase childrens learning opportunities from
kindergarten through entry into third grade. The results
demonstrate two clear sets of findings. First, the ele-
mentary school support program (i.e., the later onset of
intervention) did yield measurable benefits to partici-
pants, as indexed by higher scores on standardized as-
sessments of reading and math achievement at age 8.
However, there were not comparable gains on general
tests of intelligence or language, compared to children
who received the preschool early education interven-
tion. Second, the magnitude of benefits, even for the
reading and math achievement scores, was smaller than
for children who received the earlier-onset education in-
tervention (see C. T. Ramey et al., 2000). This study is
not germane, however, in helping to resolve the vital
question about differential timing benefits during the
preschool years. Further, this study tested a reasonably
well-designed and replicable public school enhancement
program, but did not seek to directly control the overall
classroom curriculum and instruction and thus is not a
simple and pure test of timing effects alone.
In summary, the principle of timing has modest sup-
port from human studies, but further research is needed
for conclusive evidence about its importance for differ-
ent aspects of language, literacy, and other academic
competencies. For health interventions, examples among
deaf children such as timing of cochlear implants and
age of teaching infants sign language confirm the
greater malleability or recoverability of the brain when
such corrective procedures are implemented. In general,
early detection and treatment are so widely accepted as
positive in health care that they rarely are studied sys-
tematically. There are no compelling data, at this time,
to support the notion of an absolute critical period, such
that educational intervention or health supports pro-
vided after a certain age cannot be beneficial at all;
rather, this is a principle of relative timing effects.
The Principle of Direct Receipt of Services
This principle affirms that early educational and health
interventions that directly alter childrens daily health
and education produce larger positive and longer-lasting
results than do those interventions that rely primarily on
indirect or pass-through routes to change competencies.
Early education and health interventions have been
presented in many different forms, including those that
are based in child development centers with trained
teaching and health staff, those that are home-based and
seek to change parents health behavior and provide en-
vironmental enrichments ( books, learning games, educa-
tional videos), and those that combine center- and
home-based components. These different types of early
educational and health interventions may be divided into
two major categories: those that rely primarily on direct
provision of academic and health instruction to children
and those that seek indirect means of enhancing child
learning, such as seeking to change the parents behavior
and, through that mechanism, to alter the childs health
and education.
The empirical findings regarding the differential ef-
fects of these two quite different strategies are clear:
The indirect interventions that seek to change interme-
diary factors are not as powerful in changing childrens
Principles of Ef fective Intervention Supported by Longitudinal Research on Childrens Health and Education 881
language, reading, intellectual, or health performance
(Lewis, 1984; Madden, Levenstein, & Levenstein, 1976;
C. T. Ramey, Ramey, Gaines, & Blair, 1995; Scarr &
McCartney, 1988; Wasik et al., 1990). This generaliza-
tion holds true for economically disadvantaged children,
seriously biologically disadvantaged children, and high-
risk children with both environmental and individual
risk conditions.
C. T. Ramey, Bryant, Sparling, and Wasik (1985)
conducted the first systematic and experimental study
with direct provision of instruction versus intermediary
forms of early educational intervention. In an RCT,
high-risk children were randomly assigned just after
birth to receive one of three interventions: (1) the daily,
highly intense child development center program, identi-
cal to that provided to children in the Abecedarian Proj-
ect, coupled with the home visiting program; (2) a home
visiting (intermediary) program that lasted for 5 years,
used the same educational curriculum as the center-
based intervention, and sought to have parents deliver
the intervention; and (3) a comparison group that re-
ceived enhanced nutritional, pediatric, and social ser-
vices only ( both intervention groups also received these
health and social support services). An important
achievement in this study, the longest-lasting home visit-
ing program we know of, is that participants in all three
groups remained highly engaged in the program and the
assessments. The home visiting was planned to be
weekly during the first 2 years of life and then every
other week for the next 3 years. Further, the home visi-
tors received ongoing supervision and continuing sup-
port throughout the 5 years and used a structured but
adaptable curriculum, and both the home visitors and
the families reported that they perceived the home visit-
ing program to very positive. Despite the enthusiasm for
the effort to change parents, who in turn could transmit
increased learning opportunities to their children, the
outcome data demonstrated no measurable gains for the
children in the home visiting program compared to
the control children, and both of these groups fared sig-
nificantly worse than the group that received the daily,
year-round center-based educational curriculum plus
home visiting. Post hoc analyses indicated that magni-
tude of benefits associated with the children who re-
ceived direct language and academic instruction (in the
center) plus the 5 years of home visiting was almost
identical to that reported for the Abecedarian Project
participants, who did not receive the same intensive
home visiting educational component. On a promising
note, from another home visiting program, Powell and
Grantham-McGregor (1989) indicated that three home
visits per weekbut not lessproduced significant
child improvement through the intermediary or indirect
intervention approach.
Just recently, Olds et al. (2004) reported positive but
modest education and health benefits from a nurse home
visiting program detected 2 years after the program
ended but not during the program. These results were
particularly noteworthy in the areas of receptive lan-
guage and intelligence. These high-risk children were
also more likely to have been enrolled in formal out-of-
home care, so it is not clear whether a direct or indirect
route of influences or a combination best accounts for
the results.
There clearly is popular appeal to the idea that in-
creasing the skills and knowledge of young childrens
first teacherstheir parentswill be beneficial, be-
cause parents are childrens natural support system and,
typically, care deeply about their childrens well-being.
Also, most programs hope that changing parents and im-
proving the home environment will have spillover effects
to the next children born into these families and will
help to increase the local communitys competence in
providing the right types of education and health experi-
ences, at the right times, for many other young children.
Increasingly, many of these parent-focused educational
and health interventions consider that some parents
themselves lacked good educational and health opportu-
nities when they were growing up, and some parents
lacked positive parenting models in their own lives. Ac-
cordingly, the curricula used for the parenting and home
visiting programs often address the parents own devel-
opmental needs and crucial aspects of culture and local
community, along with how to parent issues.
What are the likely reasons that center-based pro-
grams with more traditional types of language enrich-
ment, health care, and teacher-provided instruction
relating to academic skills yield positive results in terms
of academic achievement and cognition, whereas the in-
direct or intermediary programs do not? We hypothesize
that at least four factors may be contributing to this pat-
tern of results. One is that most home visiting programs
are not equal in intensity or dosage to the center-based
programs. Another is that the natural language and aca-
demic skills of some parents in at-risk families may
not be equal to those of teachers or caregivers in the
center-based programs, even when parents are encour-
aged to provide more language and academic learning
882 Childrens Health and Education
experiences to their preschool children. Thus, the chil-
dren in the two groups would not receive similar levels
of exposure to a rich language environment on an every-
day basis (cf. Hart & Risley, 1995; Huttenlocher, 1990).
A third reason is that parents who respond positively to
the home visiting still may not spend enough time with
their children for the children to have the full benefit of
their parents increased skills. For many parents, their
children may be in the care of others for extended peri-
ods during the day or night, and these other caregivers
may not be meeting the needs of these at-risk children
(National Institute of Child Health and Human Devel-
opment [NICHD] Consortium for the Study of Early
Child Care, 2005). Fourth and finally, the rate at which
participating parents acquire and then implement their
enhanced parenting and instructional skills may not be
rapid enough to achieve the intended benefits for their
children. This harkens back to the principles of both
dosage and timing. We note that home visiting programs
may serve other valuable purposes, such as preventing
child neglect and abuse and increasing childrens health
and safety, as demonstrated in research projects such as
those by Olds and colleagues (2004).
For reasons we do not fully understand, the early
childhood community has become polarized around is-
sues that concern direct or explicit teaching of certain
skills to young children. It appears common knowledge
that babies are born without knowing any specific words
or ideas, and that skills related to reading, writing, and
math require direct exposure; that is, their advancement
cannot occur without some introduction, scaffolding,
modeling or demonstration, and practice and feedback.
We believe that some practitioners in early childhood
programs mistakenly tried to enact kindergarten- or
first-grade-level instruction for much younger children,
and adopted ineffective methods of repetitive drill, re-
stricted young childrens spontaneous play and explo-
ration, and tried to force very young children to attend
and behave in ways that were counterproductive. Ac-
cordingly, the anti-instruction movement could be
viewed as a backlash to such inappropriate applications
of early educational interventions. An alternative expla-
nation is that some of the competent caregivers for
young children, particularly low-income and minority
children, in the United States have low levels of formal
education and lack formal teaching credentials. There
may be a fear that all of these individuals will be ex-
cluded from the future of child care and early education
and judged to be incompetent simply because they can-
not articulate precisely how they instruct children and
help to prepare them for school. Although there are
many published studies documenting a general relation-
ship between an adults level of education, language
skills, and intelligence and the adults skills in promot-
ing childrens cognitive and language development (cf.
NICHD Consortium for the Study of Early Child Care,
2005), there are many notable exceptions to the general-
ization. From our own professional experience, we have
observed highly competent teachers of young children
who come from all types of educational backgrounds
and all types of linguistic and cultural backgrounds. Ad-
vanced degrees in early childhood education are not a
guarantee of high-quality instruction occurring on a re-
sponsive and regular basis; neither does the lack of a
college degree prohibit an adult from providing high-
quality language and academic learning opportunities.
Currently, the Institute of Educational Sciences is
coordinating an effort to evaluate RCTs that test the
benefits of different published preschool curricula,
mostly for 4-year-olds. This effort is designed to yield
much needed information about what works in pre-K
settings. There are, however, already recognized limits
that have surfaced in this new research endeavor, such as
differences across sites regarding the dosage of the in-
tervention ( hours per day, weeks per year), the degree of
risk in the children participating, the quality of and con-
trol over curriculum implementation, and the levels of
participation from the children and families. What is
admirable about this research initiative is that both edu-
cational science and curriculum development are being
advanced, and the practical importance of this type of
scientific inquiry has become paramount by creating a
national network of projects concerned with childrens
language and literacy outcomes. Content analysis of ex-
isting early educational interventions that have already
produced large and lasting benefits through RCTs would
be a worthwhile endeavor, as well as efforts to measure
the actual classroom instruction at levels that corre-
spond to the particular types of learning and language
experiences hypothesized to be the most essential for
young childrens learning (e.g., C. T. Ramey & Ramey,
1999; S. L. Ramey & Ramey, 1998).
The Principle of Differential Benefits
This principle asserts that some children show greater
benefits from participation in early educational and
health interventions than do other children. These indi-
Principles of Ef fective Intervention Supported by Longitudinal Research on Childrens Health and Education 883
Figure 21.3 Differential effects of the Infant Health and
Development Program on age 3 IQ outcomes (Stanford-Binet)
as a function of maternal educational status.
70
75
80
85
90
95
100
105
110
Some
High School
104
85
104
93
110 110
95
105
High School
Graduate
Some
College
College
Graduate
Comparison
(Pediatric care and
family social work)
IHDP Intervention
(Home Visiting and
Child Education Program
plus pediatric care and
family social services)
vidual differences appear to relate to aspects of the chil-
drens initial risk condition and the degree to which the
program meets the childs needs or services to prevent
the harmful consequences of those risk conditions over
time (e.g., by providing sufficient amounts of direct pos-
itive learning experiences that otherwise would not have
been present).
A fundamental assumption in the fields of education
and social ecology is that of person environment (read
as person by environment ) or person treatment
effects. This assumption is that different individuals re-
spond differently to the same program, and correspond-
ingly, different programs may be needed to produce the
same outcome for different participants. These ideas
have long prevailed in the clinical and educational liter-
ature, but only recently have they been explored system-
atically in the early intervention field.
In providing broad-based early intervention for pre-
mature, low-birthweight infants, the Infant Health and
Development Program (1990) reported that children at
greater presumed biological risk, as indexed by their
lower birthweight ( less than 2,000 gm), at age 3 years
did not initially benefit as much from the program as did
children at lesser presumed risk (with birthweight be-
tween 2,000 and 2,499 gm), even though both groups
showed significant gains. In a longer-term follow-up of
these children at 5 and 8 years of age, Hill et al. (2003)
reported large and significant risk intervention ef-
fects, such that the heavier low-birthweight children
showed IQ point benefits of about 14 points, and lighter
babies had effects of about 8 points, compared to their
appropriate-birthweight matched controls who did not
receive the educational component of the intervention.
Another study focused on early educational interven-
tion for children with disabilities and considered two
influences simultaneously: the degree of the childs im-
pairment and the form of educational intervention pro-
vided. Cole, Dale, Mills, and Jenkins (1991) found an
aptitude treatment effect in a randomized design com-
paring Feuersteins mediated learning techniques and
more traditional direct instruction. Contrary to conven-
tional wisdom, students who performed relatively better
(as measured on the pretest battery of cognitive, lan-
guage, and motor tests) gained more from direct instruc-
tion, whereas students who performed worse showed
greater benefits from the mediated learning treatment.
From the Abecedarian Project, Martin, Ramey, and
Ramey (1990) discovered that the children who showed
the greatest relative gains (i.e., compared to controls)
were those whose mothers were the most intellectually
limited (i.e., maternal IQ scores below 70; in fact, all
experimental children whose mother was mentally re-
tarded performed at least 20 points higher and averaged
32 points higher than did their own mother; Landesman
& Ramey, 1989). These dramatic findings are compara-
ble to the large benefits reported in the Milwaukee Proj-
ect, which enrolled only economically disadvantaged
mothers with IQs below 75 (Garber, 1988).
Some of the programs that have failed to detect any
significant overall benefits may have enrolled a highly
heterogeneous group of children, some of whom were
at very low or no risk for poor educational outcomes.
This could serve to lessen the power to detect real inter-
vention effects if, in fact, only the high-risk children
showed benefits. As an example, analyses conducted on
children participating in the Infant Health and Develop-
ment Program showed significantly different levels of
benefit based on the educational level of the childrens
mother. As Figure 21.3 shows, the degree of benefits,
as indexed by childrens IQ scores on the Stanford-Binet
at age 3, displayed a highly orderly relationship to
mothers education. The gains were the greatest (com-
paring treated and control children) for those children
whose mother had less than a high school education, fol-
lowed by those whose mother earned a high school
884 Childrens Health and Education
degree or GED, and then those whose mother had some
college education. Interestingly, there were neither any
benefits nor any harm related to participating in this
educational intervention for children whose mother
had earned a 4-year college degree or higher (see
S. L. Ramey & Ramey, 2000). These findings of differ-
ential benefits are consistent with an interpretation that
these educational interventions supplement childrens
experiences at home in ways that are essential for the de-
velopment of average (or above-average) intelligence;
accordingly, for children whose cognitive and linguistic
development is strongly supported by their family and
other natural environments, additional educational in-
terventions are not needed to prevent subaverage perfor-
mance. We also note that in this study, the control
children, like those in all of the RCTs we have reviewed,
were never prevented from participating in other pro-
grams, and many of the college-educated parents in the
Infant Health and Development Program sought, on
their own, additional help and information to support
the early development of their premature and low-
birthweight infants.
The Principle of Continuity of Supports
This principle states that over time, the initial positive
effects of early interventions will diminish if there are
inadequate later supports to maintain childrens positive
outcomes. This has been demonstrated mostly in the ed-
ucational realm, but logically is just as important for
childrens health. The reason postintervention programs
continue to matter is that children continue to learn at
high rates, with educational and health progress that de-
pends not only on a childs entry-level skills or health
status but his or her continued acquisition of the cogni-
tive, language, and academic skillscomplemented by
appropriate physical, social, and emotional skillsto
have a positive transition to school (S. L. Ramey, Ramey,
& Lanzi, 2004).
For many early intervention programs for at-risk chil-
dren, long-lasting and substantial effects on school
achievement, grade retention, and special education
placement have been repeated. In some, but not all, stud-
ies (e.g., Garber, 1988), the long-term effects of early
educational intervention on IQ scores lessen over time.
Two important issues are relevant. First, it is not suffi-
cient for disadvantaged children merely to maintain the
advantages from effective early educational interven-
tions. Rather, children must continue to develop at nor-
mative rates in multiple domains if they are to succeed
in school settings. Second, no currently influential de-
velopmental theory is premised on the assumption that
positive early learning experiences are sufficient by
themselves to ensure that children will perform well
throughout their lives. A poor school environment, sub-
optimal health, a seriously disrupted home environment,
and many other conditions influence the behavior of
children at all ages. Thus, longitudinal inquiry about the
long-term effects of early intervention must take into
consideration childrens subsequent environments and
experiences (i.e., after early intervention ceases).
As described earlier, only one RCT early interven-
tion study, the Abecedarian Project, has extended early
intervention into the elementary school years to evaluate
the importance of additional systematic supports during
the transition to school. As Figure 21.4 shows, at 8 years
of age, children who had received continuous educa-
tional intervention for the first 8 years performed the
best of any group in reading and mathematics, followed
next by those who received early intervention for 5
years, followed by those who received the elementary
school treatment only (Horacek, Ramey, Campbell,
Hoffman, & Fletcher, 1987). Longitudinal analysis of
IQ scores revealed effects only for the early interven-
tion groups; that is, the supplemental program from
kindergarten through age 8 did not result in higher IQ
scores (C. T. Ramey & Campbell, 1994). Later, at age
12, children who had received the early intervention
continued to show benefits in terms of both academic
achievement and IQ scores and a reduction of nearly
50% in the rate of repetition of at least one grade in the
elementary school years. Overall, however, the group of
children who performed best across all measures were
those who had both the preschool and school-age educa-
tional interventions.
Currie and Thomas (1995) have conducted important
analyses of the long-term educational progress of for-
mer Head Start children and demonstrated that those
who go to average or above-average schools continue to
keep up with their age or grade peers, whereas those in
the very lowest performing schools show a decline (rela-
tive to their school entry level). Tragically, 50 years
after Brown v. Board of Education, it remains true that
African American low-income children disproportion-
ately attend very poor quality schools, at rates far higher
than for other ethnic groups even when family income is
below the poverty line.
Recently, Barnett (2004) has written an excellent and
integrative review that confronts the myth of fade-out.
Although it is true that IQ scores per se show dimin-
Key Features of Collaborative and Community Participatory Research 885
Figure 21.4 The Abecedarian Project: selected health and education outcomes from infancy through young adulthood.
80
85
90
95
100
8 Years
94
85
91
85
93
88
89
94
12 Years 15 Years 21 Years
Grade Retention Special Education
0
10
20
30
40
50
60
30
56
12
48
0
10
20
30
40
50
60
Teen Parent
26
45
39
55
36
14
39
18
Smoking Marijuana Use Attending
4-Year College
Comparison Group
(Nutrition supplements,
regular pediatric care,
and family social
services)
Abecedarian Treatment
(5 years of preschool
education plus nutrition
supplements, regular
pediatric care and family
social services)
0
10
20
30
40
50
60
70
80
90
100
6 Months
100
93
100
78
95
45
49
95
18 Months 36 Months 48 Months
Young Adult (Age 21 Years) Healthy Lifestyle Indicators
Rates of Grade Retention/Repetition and
Special Education Placement by Age 15
Percent in Normal IQ Range (>84) during Preschool Years;
Bayley Scales of Infant Development at 6 and 18 Months;
Stanford-Binet at 36 and 48 Months; (National M = 100, S.D. = 15)
Mean Reading Achievement Scores
(National M = 100, S.D. = 15) on Woodcock-Johnson
ished group difference over time, achievements in read-
ing, language, math, and overall school adjustment as in-
dexed by grade retention and special education
placement show long-lasting benefits. When these sus-
tained effects do not appear, one of the contributing fac-
torsin addition to the principles already detailed in
this chaptermay well be the quality and intensity of
the educational programs that follow the early educa-
tional intervention. The opportunity to conduct more
rigorous post hoc analyses about the schools that chil-
dren attended across the well-conducted RCTs that have
longitudinal data would be valuable, as well as more de-
scription about the natural variation in the alignment
and educational supports for children transitioning from
early educational interventions into public school pro-
grams (Kagan, 1994).
KEY FEATURES OF COLLABORATIVE AND
COMMUNITY PARTICIPATORY RESEARCH
Traditionally, scientific inquiry about child development
has been guided primarily by scientists with interests in
advancing scientific theory and practical understanding
886 Childrens Health and Education
of what influences the course of human development.
Some research has been fueled by advocacy concerns,
such as increased research into Autism, mental retarda-
tion, AIDS, and learning and reading disabilities.
Rarely, however, is research conducted in a way that ad-
equately includes the perspectives of those whose lives
are the primary topic of the research. Further, clini-
cians, educators, and community members often have
extensive in-depth knowledge of topics germane to lon-
gitudinal research on children and families, yet these in-
dividuals seldom participate as full partners in the
design and conduct of longitudinal research. Increas-
ingly, scientists recognize the tremendous potential
value of conducting research in a way that actively en-
gages and respects a much broader range of expertise,
from multiple disciplines, practices, and community ex-
periences. The challenge is how to efficiently and effec-
tively create new types of partnerships in which
multiple groups of experts can be combined to yield a
more complete understanding of important influences
on childrens health and education.
We have established and used guidelines for conduct-
ing collaborative research to evaluate the effects of in-
terventions in education and health settings (S. L.
Ramey & Ramey, 1997b). Figure 21.5 summarizes criti-
cal activities in planning and conducting responsive,
useful research on education and health interventions.
Briefly, these include early engagement of key individu-
als and groups as participants to create a shared vision
and framework to guide decision making and the identi-
fication of key questions and plans for gathering and an-
alyzing data. Vital to the success of collaborative and
community participatory research is the generation of
timely interim reports that provide practical information
about the progress of program implementation and early
evidence about program impact and childrens develop-
ment. Active maintenance of these partnerships is
equally important to ensure continuity in the conduct of
longitudinal intervention research and to understand
other changes occurring over time in the community and
families lives that may affect measured health and edu-
cation outcomes. These research partnerships facilitate
accurate identification of changes in the community and
family context that may independently and interactively
affect child health and education. These partnerships
not only serve to foster scientific integrity in terms of
the appropriate measurement of relevant multiple influ-
ences, but also set the stage for informed interpretation,
dissemination, and application of the results of such re-
search. In addition, the partnerships themselves can
serve as an ongoing means of timely exchange of rele-
vant information, including opportunities for scientists
to provide practitioners and families with valuable find-
ings from previous research that could be practically ap-
plied in the community (see Figure 21.5).
We would be remiss if we did not state there are seri-
ous challenges associated with conducting such com-
plex, ambitious, and action-oriented research. These
include the importance of identifying the appropriate in-
dividuals who will be engaged in the partnership, recog-
nizing that the members in the partnership will change
over time (for many reasons), finding ways the partner-
ship can offer tangible benefits and appropriate recogni-
tion to all participants throughout the partnership,
anticipating and proposing how to resolve likely prob-
lems and disagreements, and creating stronger supports
within most universities for this type of research. Ide-
ally, clearly written agreements (e.g., memoranda of un-
derstanding) signed by key participants and community
and university leaders, widespread public media about
the partnership, and ongoing documented meetings to
exchange information in ways that are open and honest
serve as important mechanisms for maintaining project
integrity, acceptability, and productivity.
As an example, when we created a long-term re-
search partnership between a geographic community
and a major research university, we developed and en-
dorsed a set of guiding operating principles (for more
details, see C. T. Ramey & Ramey, 1997a, 1997b).
These were (a) a pledge that there will be joint univer-
sity and community development of all programs; ( b) a
commitment to research that benefits both the commu-
nity and the university; (c) a commitment to programs
that make a difference in peoples everyday lives; (d) a
pledge from partners to maintain the partnership for an
extended period (e.g., a decade); (e) a belief that over
time both the community and the university will be-
come better places as a direct result of the quality of
partnership; and (f ) a commitment to conducting the
partnership in a way that could serve as a model for oth-
ers (e.g., to expand the benefits and to facilitate produc-
tive university-community partnerships).
Universities and Public Policy
Universities have been the largest incubator for model
research programs to enhance young childrens educa-
tion and to test health interventions. Unfortunately,
887
Figure 21.5 Critical activities in planning and conducting responsive, useful health and education evaluations. Adapted from The
Role of Universities in Child Development (pp. 1344), by S. L. Ramey and C. T. Ramey, in Children and Youth: Interdisciplinary
Perspectives, H. J. Walberg, O. Reyes, and R. P. Weissberg (Eds.), 1997b, Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Reprinted with permission.
888 Childrens Health and Education
many of the model programs shown to yield positive
benefits have not been adopted and implemented in com-
munity settings to realize comparable benefits on a
large scale. We think this indicates an inherent limita-
tion in the old-style research that has been primarily
conducted within one or two major disciplines, led by
university scientists, funded by federal agencies without
requiring early and sustained engagement of key com-
munity stakeholders, and not designed to take into ac-
count public policies and practical issues that will
determine whether new programs can readily be imple-
mented in the community.
To a remarkable degree, the historical structure of
universities also has guided the structure of the research
funding and the ways communities are organized to pro-
vide supports for children and families (C. T. Ramey &
Ramey, 1997b). Specifically, the historical disciplinary
training that grants degrees in areas such as social work,
psychology, pediatrics, pediatric dentistry, pediatric re-
habilitation, early childhood education, special educa-
tion, educational psychology, child and family nursing,
child psychiatry, public health, and urban planning (and
many others) contributed to the creation of parallel
types of service organizations and community-based
practices that have hindered the provision of well-
coordinated, efficient, and comprehensive supports for
children and families. This dispersion has created a re-
markable fragmentation and duplication of services in a
time of limited resources and high need. Similarly,
within universities, a highly compartmentalized knowl-
edge base about children and families has evolved, with
no obvious way to create a unified understanding of
child development and effective means of enhancing the
development of the most at-risk children.
Potential benefits of reorganization within universi-
ties and communities, consistent with the scientific evi-
dence about how children learn and how their health is
promoted, are great. Just as the university-led research
and demonstration projects are inherently limited, so,
too, are many well-intentioned community-based pro-
grams that have not realized their intended benefits,
even when they have sought to be comprehensive and co-
ordinated. The community initiatives often do not in-
clude rigorous research from the beginning, just as many
university-led efforts have not adequately included com-
munity input and partners. We think this further sup-
ports the need for major policy and organizational
changes in both universities and communitieschanges
that will not be easy or welcomed by all. Genuine reor-
ganization would likely mean the end of some disciplines
and practices as we know them today and the creation of
new combined or coordinated fields and practices de-
signed to better meet the needs of children and families
in ways that are more holistic, informed by scientific
findings, and responsive to communities and consumers.
This type of research also places universities in a new
position, one in which they are actively supporting rela-
tionships to improve well-being in the community, while
at the same time generating new knowledge. Accord-
ingly, universities may need to consider how to strategi-
cally invest in infrastructure support for this type of
research (i.e., on a par with planning for new technology
and laboratory supports), how to recognize and reward
faculty and staff for productively sustaining these
research-service partnerships, and how to operate in
more flexible and accommodating ways to promote these
partnerships (e.g., creating easy-to-handle subcontracts,
joint hiring or supervising of staff, reducing indirect
cost rates for certain activities, flexibility in paying for
community consultation, offering access to university
courses and services to community partners). Finally,
universities need to anticipate that the emerging results
from longitudinal research may sometimes be controver-
sial and politically charged. Ideally, the partnership
agreements will have anticipated a full range of results,
and active partnerships will accept responsibility for
agreed-upon ways to share and act on the findings. Sci-
entific and academic freedom cannot be compromised;
neither should the needs of the community and research
participants be ignored in how the findings are inter-
preted and disseminated. These complicated and thorny
issues need to be openly discussed and considered in an
ongoing fashion, consistent with the overall goal of pro-
moting childrens health and education.
SUMMARY
Both early childhood education programs and community-
based prevention and health promotion interventions need
to incorporate a transdisciplinary approach that builds on
recent scientific findings and reflects advances in inte-
grating the historically separate fields of health and edu-
cation. This relatively new and innovative approach can be
characterized as a systematic endeavor to individualize
and integrate the supports provided to treat and educate
the whole child. Health is defined consistent with the
Summary 889
WHO definition as including an individuals psychosocial
well-being, not merely the absence of disease or disability.
Similarly, education is defined as more than just intellec-
tual ability and performance on standardized measures of
academic achievement; that is, a childs progress in the
educational arena includes social-emotional skills, the
ability to adapt to change, and a wide array of cognitive
and problem-solving skills that support lifelong learning
and competence.
There are many well-intentioned federal, state, and
local multicomponent initiatives under way, including
the well-known Head Start, Early Head Start, early in-
tervention programs for children with developmental
disabilities and risk conditions, subsidized child care
quality enhancement efforts, and school readiness and
transition-to-school programs. This chapter presented as
an example the Head Start-Public School Early Child-
hood Transition Demonstration Project, a multisite,
congressionally mandated intervention to help promote
the educational attainment and health of former Head
Start children and their classmates, based on an ideology
of two-generation, community-based family support.
Childrens health and education are widely recog-
nized as vital for their success as contributing mem-
bers of society, yet relatively few studies have
endeavored to understand how health and education
mutually influence each other and combine to deter-
mine the course of a childs development. Applied
biosocial contextual development is a general concep-
tual framework that is strongly supported by research
findings and has proven useful in designing and study-
ing interventions to improve childrens health and edu-
cation. ABCD identifies multiple and co-occurring
types of influences on development from a systems
theory perspective. Childrens development is dimen-
sionalized in terms of biological and social processes
that can be more or less supported or hindered by envi-
ronmental conditions, and thus contribute to three
major classes of interrelated outcomes: childrens
health status and health promotion behaviors ( health);
childrens behavioral, intellectual, and social develop-
ment, and their educational progress (education); and
childrens own internal representations of themselves,
their environments, and their experiences (personal
constructs).
Many carefully planned interventions have yielded
scientific findings about what constitutes effective
childhood interventions. We reviewed and summarized
these findings by delineating five major principles of ef-
fective early intervention. The scientific principles sup-
ported by research are the following:
1. The principle of dosage, in which more intensive or
higher-dose interventions yield larger and longer-
lasting effects, whereas less intensive interventions
often yield limited or no demonstrable benefits.
2. The principle of timing, supporting the conclusion that
interventions that are well-timed to take advantage of
childrens neuroplasticity in multiple domains, by be-
ginning fairly early in life and continuing through pe-
riods of rapid growth and learning, produce more
positive outcomes.
3. The principle of direct receipt of supports, indicating
that, to date, programs that seek to change children only
by changing their parents and community providers
have not produced evidence of significant benefits to
children themselves, whereas programs that provide
services directly to children (often accompanied by
family and community supports) can alter the develop-
mental trajectories of individual children.
4. The principle of differential benefits, which predicts
that planned interventions are likely to have greater
or lesser impact on children, depending on a combi-
nation of factors, such as the initial type and magni-
tude of a childs risks and needs and the extent to
which these are specifically addressed in the inter-
vention. For example, children whose mother has lim-
ited resources to meet her young childrens cognitive
and language learning needs have benefited signifi-
cantly more from early educational interventions
than have children whose mother initially had much
greater amounts of educational, economic, and health
resources.
5. The principle of continuity of supports, which af-
firms the importance of children receiving the right
types and amounts of environmental supports for
health and education throughout their development.
That is, there is no evidence that early intervention
programs alone can produce large and sustainable
benefits in the absence of children receiving reason-
ably good supports from schools, families, and com-
munities after the planned intervention.
Much remains to be learned about the ways these five
major principles interact across different ages and stages
of development and within and across diverse cultural
and regional settings. The future of scientific inquiry
890 Childrens Health and Education
about childrens health and education research will de-
pend largely on the degree to which studies are more
carefully designed, implemented, documented, and sum-
marized in ways that can be compared and combined
within a practically useful knowledge framework.
To conduct such complex research, especially involv-
ing large-scale and sustainable prevention and interven-
tion programs, a new style of collaborative research that
engages the community and broader expertise from pro-
fessionals, scientists, and citizens is vitally needed. En-
gaging individuals and groups in the early stages of
planning and implementation has great promise for pro-
ducing results that are more valid, more sensitive, and
more acceptable and useful to families, practitioners,
and communities. Conducting such research necessi-
tates an in-depth understanding of the complex and
changing ways that policy, economics, politics, and prac-
tice operate in the fields of education and health. The
goal of such research is undeniably both basic and ap-
plied, and potentially may yield insights to move into an
era where the large disparities and inequities in health
and education for low-income, historically marginalized
groups of children are drastically reduced and eventu-
ally eliminated.
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893
CHAPTER 22
Parenting Science and Practice
MARC H. BORNSTEIN
PARENTING FOR PARENTS 896
HISTORY AND THEORY OF PARENTING IN
BRIEF OVERVIEW 896
A Glance Backward at How Parenting Study
Got to be the Way It Is 896
Parenting Theory in Perspective 897
Looking Ahead to Where Parenting Theory and
Research are Going 899
PARENTS 899
Mothers 900
Fathers 900
Coparenting and the Division of Parenting Labor 901
Other Caregivers 901
Summary 902
DETERMINANTS OF PARENTING 902
Characteristics of Parents Affect Parenting 902
Characteristics of Children Affect Parenting 906
Contextual Characteristics Affect Parenting 907
Methodological Note 910
Summary 911
PARENTING EFFECTS AND THEIR
MULTICAUSAL CONTEXT 911
Correlational Designs 911
Gene-Environment Interactions 912
Experiments 912
Behavior Genetics 913
Group Socialization Theory 915
Summary 916
PARENTING COGNITIONS AND PRACTICES 916
Parenting Cognitions 916
Parenting Practices 920
Some Prominent Principles of Parenting Cognitions
and Practices 922
PREVENTION AND INTERVENTION
IN PARENTING 927
Prevention and Intervention 927
Case History of a Parenting Intervention 929
CONCLUSIONS 933
REFERENCES 934
States Parties agree that the education of the child shall be
directed to:
(a) The development of the childs personality, talents and
mental and physical abilities to their fullest potential. . . .
(c) The development of respect for the childs parents.
Article 29
CONVENTION ON THE RIGHTS OF THE CHILD
(UNITED NATIONS CHILDRENS FUND, 1990)
Each day approximately three-quarters of a million
adults around the world experience the joys and rewards
as well as the challenges and heartaches of becoming a
new parent (Population Reference Bureau, 2000).
As individuals, each of us has had the experience of
being parented, and many of us relive the experience
when we parent our own children. Yet, parenting re-
mains a somewhat mystifying subject about which few
people agree, but about which almost everyone has
opinions. That said, a surprising amount of solid science
is recently accumulating about parenting. Figure 22.1
shows the increasing popularity of parenting studies
today. As a testament to the demands for information
This chapter summarizes selected aspects of my research, and
portions of the text have appeared in previous scientific publica-
tions cited in the references. Preparation of this report was sup-
ported by the Intramural Research Program of the NIH, NICHD.
I thank H. Bornstein, K. Crnic, M. Heslington, S. Latif, J.
Sawyer, C. S. Tamis-LeMonda, and C. Varron for comments and
assistance; L. Davidson, M. A. Fenley, L. Gulish, E. L. Pollard,
M. F. Rogers, M. Rosenberg, D. C. Smith, and S. Toal of the Cen-
ter for Child Well-being, and R. Bradley, K. Crnic, E. Galinsky,
M. Juzang, W. Juzang, J. Kagan, S. Lee, R. M. Lerner, V. Murry,
L. Steinberg, and R. Wooden of the Parenting Network.
894 Parenting Science and Practice
about parenting and to bring order to existing informa-
tion, this is the first formal chapter on parenting per se
to appear in the Handbook of Child Psychology.
Parenting is a job whose primary object of attention
and action is the childhuman children do not and can-
not grow up as solitary individualsbut parenting is
also a status in the life course with consequences for
parents themselves. Parents are concerned about the
everyday well-being of their children as well as their
childrens long-term development, and parents are con-
cerned about themselves as parents and want to know
how best to cope with the unrelenting demands of par-
enting. Parenting is a 24/7 job.
Parents are fundamentally invested in their children:
their survival, their socialization, and their education.
Evolutionary psychology distinguishes between bring-
ing a new individual into the world and caring for an ex-
isting individual, childbearing versus child caring
(Bjorklund, Yunger, & Pellegrini, 2002). Whereas
species lower in the phylogenetic hierarchy are princi-
pally childbearers, mammals such as human beings tend
to be devoted child carers perhaps because young human
children are totally dependent on parents. Childhood is
also the time when we forge our first social bonds, first
learn how to express and read basic human emotions,
and first make sense of the physical world. In child-
hood, individual personalities and social styles also
first develop. It is parents who lead children through all
these dramatic firsts.
Thinking about parent-child relationships highlights
parents as agents of child socialization; to a consider-
able degree, however, parenting is a two-way street. Al-
most nothing stirs the emotions or rivets the attention of
adults more than the birth of a child. Furthermore, by
their very coming into existence, children alter the
sleeping, eating, and working habits of their parents;
they change who parents are and how parents define
themselves. In point of fact, parent and child activities
are characterized by intricate patterns of synchronous
interactions and sensitive mutual understandings (Born-
stein, 1989a, 2002b; Kaye, 1982; Stern, 1985; Tre-
varthen & Aitken, 2001). Infants cry to be fed and
changed, and when they wake, they tell parents they are
ready to play and to learn. Sometimes, parents initia-
tives are proactive; often, however, they are reactive.
Parents and their children interact with one another over
time to co-construct parenthood as well as childhood.
Historically, theorists of many stripes looked to par-
ents as those thought to influence children the most, al-
though in modern societies, childhood socialization is
acknowledged to involve a variety of individuals and to
take place in a variety of contexts: families, peer
groups, day care centers, school classrooms. Bronfen-
brenner (Bronfenbrenner & Morris, 1998) described an
apt ecological perspective on parent-child relationships
and childrens development that has stimulated devel-
opmental scientists to think about parents, children,
and families from a systemic point of view. This chap-
ter on parenting adheres to that developmental contex-
tual perspective.
Parents are charged with the larger and continuing
task to enculturate children, that is, to prepare them
for the physical, economic, and psychosocial situa-
tions that are characteristic of the environment in which
Figure 22.1 (a) Number of entries at the 2005 meeting of the
Society for Research in Child Development for parenting,
mothers, and fathers versus four phases of childhood. ( b) Num-
ber of entries for parenting, mothers, and fathers versus the
seven next most popular subject areas.
0
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300
400
500
600
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200
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400
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600
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Parenting Science and Practice 895
they must survive and, it is hoped, thrive (Benedict,
1938; Bornstein, 1991; LeVine, 2003). Parents have the
moment-to-moment job of disambiguating novel, com-
plex, and rapidly changing, uncertain information that
arises from children. Yet, despite this flux they are ex-
pected to parent consistently, appropriately, and effec-
tively. Parents everywhere appear highly motivated to
carry out these assignments. Adults already know (or
think they know) something about parenting by the time
they first become parents (Zero-to-Three, 1997). Indeed,
human beings appear to possess an amount of intuitive
knowledge about parenting (Papou sek & Papou sek,
2002), and some characteristics of parenting may be
wired into our biological makeup (Fleming & Liu, 2002).
For example, parents almost everywhere speak to their
infants even though they know that babies cannot under-
stand language per se, and parents even speak to babies
in a special speech register. However, human beings also
acquire knowledge of what it means to parent by living in
a culture: Generational, social, and media images of par-
enting, children, and family lifehanded down or ready
madeplay significant roles in helping people formulate
their parenting cognitions and guide their parenting
practices (Holden & Buck, 2002; Sigel & McGillicuddy-
De Lisi, 2002). For these reasons, parents from different
cultures differ in their opinions about the significance of
specific competencies for their childrens successful ad-
justment, they differ in the ages they expect children to
reach different milestones or acquire various competen-
cies, and so forth (Goodnow, 2002; Harkness & Super,
1996). Direct experiences with children and self-
constructed aspects of parenting are other important fac-
tors in developing parenting attitudes and actions.
For their part, children seem primed to profit from
parental care. Early childhood in particular has long
been thought to be a period in the life cycle when hu-
mans are especially plastic, a time when they are open
to influences they will carry with them long after they
have left their family of origin. The characteristics
thought to be especially vulnerable to influence in the
first years of childrens lives range from the language
they speak and the foods they prefer to the politics they
follow and religious beliefs they profess.
Parenting is not an activity we normally think of as
being especially scientific. Most people just seem to par-
ent, without giving it much thought. Like most things,
however, better parenting requires knowledge. Happily,
there is a science of parenting with much systematic re-
search behind it. The contemporary parenting literature
contains thousands of empirical studies. This chapter is
based on the emerging science of parenting. One impor-
tant consequence of the increasingly sophisticated view
of the origins and conduct of parenting is the conclusion
that parenting can be influenced and modified through
education and culture, and thus what we learn about par-
enting can have far-reaching practical implications.
Scientific analysis of parenting has also helped to
shed light on how and why parental practices influence
child outcomes. Studies of parenting often rely on corre-
lational designs, but also use experimental manipula-
tions and other techniques that make it possible to
examine parenting variables as potential causal mecha-
nisms for specified child outcomes. What forces affect
when and how children change? What conditions deter-
mine differences among children in their rates of devel-
opment or their ultimate achievements? These questions
constitute the heart of much of parenting science. Of
course, childrens genetic makeup affects their charac-
teristics and also influences the way they are treated by
their parents. However, childrens inherited dispositions
and their parents child-rearing choices are closely in-
terwoven and function jointly. There is unassailable evi-
dence that parents can and do influence children.
Parents have many roles to play in child development:
to nurture and protect children, to guide children in under-
standing and expressing proper feelings and emotions, to
educate children in behaviors that are acceptable for the
stage of childhood they occupy as well as to prepare chil-
dren for adaptation to a wider range of life roles and con-
texts they will encounter as they grow (Bornstein, 1989a,
2002a; Badley & Caldwell, 1995). All cultures prescribe
certain beliefs and behaviors in their members and pro-
scribe others, and children in the culture must learn both
(Maccoby, 2000). For parents, some prescriptions and
proscriptions are essentially universal, such as the re-
quirement that patents nurture and protect their offspring.
Others, such as what kinds of emotions can be expressed
in public, vary from culture to culture. All cultures social-
ize children in such a way that each new generation ac-
quires relevant prescribed beliefs and behaviors. In the
tripartite organization of culture/parent /child, parents
bridge cultural practices and ideals to childrens everyday
life and learning. It is sometimes said that only two kinds
of information are transmitted across generations: genes
and culture. Parents are final common pathway of both.
Undergirding all these considerations is the fundamental
fact that parenting is requisite to the survival and success
of the human race.
896 Parenting Science and Practice
PARENTING FOR PARENTS
Parenting is most certainly a functional activity, but
parenting is pleasures, privileges, and profits as well as
frustrations, fears, and failures. Sociobiological theo-
ries of human evolution assert that all individuals are
compelled to see their childbearing and child rearing
succeed on the argument that it is in that way that they
ensure the continuation of their genes (Dawkins, 1976).
However, there is much more to parenting than biologi-
cal continuity. Parenting has its intrinsic rewards. Ac-
cording to a nationwide survey conducted by the
National Center for Children, Toddlers, and Families,
more than 90% of parents say that when they had their
first child, they not only felt in love with their baby,
but were personally happier than ever before in their
lives (Zero-to-Three, 1997). Parents can find interest
and derive considerable and continuing pleasure in their
relationships and activities with their children.
Parenthood can also enhance ones psychological de-
velopment, self-confidence, and sense of well-being.
Parenting translates into a constellation of new trusts
and opens a vista on the larger picture of life. Of
course, parenthood also gives adults ample opportunity
to confront new challenges and to test and display their
competencies (Crittenden, 2004). Markus, Cross, and
Wurf (1990) reported that feelings of competence as a
parent constituted a highly common aspect of the self
desired by adults. Furthermore, from infancy, children
recognize and show that they prefer the sights, sounds,
and smells of their caregivers, and over the course of
just the 1st year of life children develop deep and life-
long attachments to sensitive and responsive parents. In
essence, then, parents receive a great deal in kind for
their hard work and commitment: They are often recip-
ients of unconditional love, and they even pretend to
immortality.
Adults are motivated by strong self-interest to parent.
Becoming or being a parent means assuming new and
vital responsibilities for oneself as well as for others. To
parent well, however, parents own needs must be met.
When women are inadequately nourished, for example,
their health and social development may be compro-
mised, and their ability to bear and rear healthy children
is threatened. Malnourished women fall ill more often,
and they have smaller babies. Where birth rates are high
and child mortality is also high, womens bodies are
stressed and their children are trapped in a cycle of poor
health and nutrition.
Mostly, however, parenting is defined by its func-
tional role in the human life cycle. A functionalist ap-
proach to parenting asserts that it is desirable to
promote traits in children that will lead to their becom-
ing adults who function well within the requirements of
the social groups among which they live. The concep-
tion of parenting as a set of functions expands the focus
of discussion beyond biological parents; other related
and nonrelated caregivers may also be centrally en-
gaged in parenting (Leon, 2002). In this functional
sense, too, parenting cannot be separated from child
development. This chapter focuses on parenting and
parents to the degree possible, but does not eschew sig-
nificant others in the lives of children or childrens de-
velopment.
Becoming a parent is a transforming experience
(C. P. Cowan & Cowan, 1992; Heinicke, 2002). New par-
ents experience change in aspects of their personality
(i.e., self-efficacy expectations, personal control, anxi-
ety, and depression). Generally during the transition to
parenthood, gender roles become more traditional, with
women becoming the primary caregiver, and marital
satisfaction also normatively declines.
Freud reputedly counted bringing up children as one
of the three impossible professions, the other two
being governing nations and psychoanalysis. Some par-
ents are more fully committed than others to the parent-
ing role (Greenberger & Goldberg, 1989; Pulkkinen,
1982). In the end, degree of commitment may rival in
importance and for effect the style with which commit-
ment to parent is expressed.
HISTORY AND THEORY OF PARENTING IN
BRIEF OVERVIEW
How did parenting studies begin, and how did they ar-
rive at the state we find them in today? A glance back-
ward and a short excursion into parenting theory also
helps to show the way we are headed.
A Glance Backward at How Parenting Study
Got to be the Way It Is
Child-rearing responsibilities have been viewed as fun-
damental to societal well-being throughout time, and so
every society has paid considerable attention to parent-
ing (French, 2002). Written speculation and sermoniz-
History and Theory of Parenting in Brief Overview 897
ing on parenting date back at least to ancient Egypt, the
Code of Hammurabi, and the pre-Socratic philosophers.
In the Laws, Plato (ca. 355 B.C.) theorized about the sig-
nificance of parenting. Over the centuries since, the
writings of clergy and philosophersas well as popular
wisdomhave been replete with theories, convictions,
and aphorisms concerning what kinds of child training
best ensure social order. Historians, anthropologists,
and sociologists of family life have documented evolving
patterns of primary child care (Coln with Coln,
1999). However, the formal study of parenting had its
beginnings in attempts by philosopher, educator, and
scientist parents to do systematically what parents
around the world do naturally everyday: observe their
children. Such reflections on child rearing first took
form as diary descriptions of children in their natural
settings written by their own parents, referred to as
baby biographies (Darwin, 1877; Hall, 1891; Preyer,
1882; Rousseau, 1762; Taine, 1877; Tiedemann, 1787;
see Jaeger, 1985; Prochner & Doyon, 1997; Wallace,
Franklin, & Keegan, 1994), and they still regularly ap-
pear (Brazelton, 1969; Church, 1966; Greene, 1984;
Mendelson, 1993; Stern, 1990). These systematic obser-
vations of parenting had many salutary effects, height-
ening awareness in parents and provoking formal studies
of how to guide child development. It was only in the
twentieth century, however, that parenting became the
focus of scientific study.
On account of high rates of child mortality, parents in
early times may have cared for but resisted emotional
investment in the very young (Dye & Smith, 1986), an
orientation that appears to persist where especially dire
circumstances reign (Scheper-Hughes, 1989). One his-
torian theorized that parents have generally improved in
their orientation to and treatment of children because
parents have, through successive generations, improved
in their ability to identify and empathize with the spe-
cial qualities of early childhood (deMause, 1975).
Today, advice on parenting children can be found in pro-
fessional compendia that provide comprehensive med-
ical treatises of prenatal and perinatal development,
such as Ef fective Care in Pregnancy and Childbirth
(Chalmers, Enkin, & Keirse, 1989); in classic how-to
books, such as Dr. Spocks Baby and Child Care (Spock
& Needlman, 2004) and Your Baby and Child (Leach,
1997); in research-grounded academic compilations,
such as the Handbook of Parenting (Bornstein, 2002a)
and The 10 Basic Principles of Good Parenting (Stein-
berg, 2004); as well as in numerous popular periodicals
that overflow magazine racks in supermarkets, airports,
and pharmacies.
Parenting Theory in Perspective
Historically, many theories in philosophy and psychol-
ogy focused on parenting. This recapitulation closely
follows Maccoby (1992) who observed that at first two
overarching theories presumed to encompass most of
what was significant about the socialization of children,
psychoanalysis and behavior theory, but these all-
encompassing perspectives on parenting yielded over
time to narrower views specific to domains or ages.
Early research also consisted largely of a search for di-
rect connections between parental practices and child
outcomes, whereas current work focuses on processes
that may mediate the ways parental practices affect a
child. Parents were once seen primarily as trainers or
transmitters of culture and children as empty vessels
who were gradually filled up with the necessary social
repertoires; today complex models of socialization in-
volve bidirectional and transactional processes.
Sigmund Freud (1949), founder of psychoanalytic
theory, asserted the principal role of parenting in child
development. Freud hypothesized that the parents per-
sonality determined the nature of parenting, the parent-
child relationship, and the childs development as
children internalize models of their parents and in-
troject their values. Another consistent theme among
psychoanalytic theorists was that, if parents emotional
needs had not been met during the course of their own
development, then their own neuroses would be re-
flected in their parenting (Holden & Buck, 2002). Anna
Freud (1955/1970) described mothers who rejected
their children, sometimes due to psychosis but more
often because of their own neurotic conflicts. Likewise,
Winnicott (1948/1975) and Spitz (1965/1970) saw the
roots of aggressive, impulsive, immature, self-centered,
and self-critical parenting of abusive parents in the par-
ents own upbringing. Psychoanalytic theorizing was
applied to studies of the role of personality in family
life, but the psychoanalytic movement failed to foster
much systematic empirical research (Cohler & Paul,
2002). Recent advances redress this imbalance.
Early empirical studies of parenting from a behav-
ior theory perspective consisted of straightfor-
ward demonstrations that specific behaviors in babies
(smiles or vocalizations) could be instrumentally con-
ditioned or extinguished (Rheingold, Gewirtz, & Ross,
898 Parenting Science and Practice
1959). From Watson (1924/1970) to Skinner (1976),
attempts were made to relate learning theories to
socialization. Childrens aggression, dependency,
sex typing, and identification with parents were often
foci of behavioral study. N. E. Miller and Dollard
(1941) reformulated hypotheses derived from psycho-
analytic theory into simple testable propositions
stated in behavior-theoretical terms. Their efforts to
predict more complex outcomes such as childrens per-
sonality attributes from parental socialization meth-
ods proved unsuccessful. Sears, Maccoby, and Levin
(1957), for example, found few connections between
parental child-rearing practices (as reported by par-
ents in interviews) and independent assessments of
childrens personality characteristics.
Many theories of child psychology place strong em-
phasis on parents. According to scaf folding theory, for
example, cognitive and social development occur mainly
in interactive contexts with trusted, more competent
partners (Rogoff, 1990) who do not reward, punish, or
correct children so much as provide a structure for
learning that increases the likelihood of childrens suc-
ceeding in their own attempts to learn. Parents who
move their children forward in development arrange cir-
cumstances so that the demands of a situation fall be-
yond the childs zone of actual development to within
the childs zone of proximal development. According
to Vygotsky (1978), the parent, being more advanced
than the child, raises the childs level of competence
through reciprocal interactions. This view implies that
enduring parental influences stem mainly from the na-
ture of the relationships parents co-construct and con-
tinually reconstruct with their children.
Other prominent theories emphasize the active role of
the child in parent-child interaction. In one view, chil-
dren acquire new behaviors without ever performing
them overtly and without ever being rewarded, but
merely by observing them being performed by nurturant
and powerful parents (Bandura, 1962, 1965). A central
tenet of this social learning theory posits that the pri-
mary method by which children learn about the world is
through observing the actions of their caregivers. In this
way, children gradually internalize the behaviors and
values of key figures in their lives (Maccoby, 1959).
What children imitate in others, what they remember,
and how they process what is remembered all depend on
their level of development. Piagets (1952) interactionist
theorizing, for example, strongly suggested that children
use parental input rather than parental input into learn-
ing determining what children learn.
Bowlby (1969) infused ethological theory into social-
ization. He contended that parent and child develop re-
ciprocal behaviors particularly through attachment
(Ainsworth & Bell, 1969). Attachment theory postulates
the formation of an internal working model or represen-
tation of the attachment relationship, a schema that af-
fects the nature of new relationships formed later in life
(Main, Kaplan, & Cassidy, 1985). What is internalized
from a childs attachment experience is the quality of
the relationship with a parent rather than the personality
characteristics of the parent (Sroufe & Fleeson, 1986).
A sensitive and responsive parenting style provides a se-
cure base from which children develop cooperation,
self-regulation, and social initiative (Putallaz & Heflin,
1990; van IJzendoorn, 1995), internalize social values
(Grusec & Goodnow, 1994), and explore the world and
engage socially with others (Ainsworth, Blehar, Waters,
& Wall, 1978; Sroufe, 1988).
Finally, in the view of family systems theory, what
transpires between a parent and a child is governed not
only by the characteristics of each individual but also by
patterns of transaction between them and others (Born-
stein & Sawyer, 2005; Broderick, 1993; Cox & Paley,
2003). Parent and child develop in a family system that
functions as an organized whole, composed of interde-
pendent elements or subsystems that include individuals
as well as relationships among individuals. Each element
or subsystem within the family both affects and is af-
fected by other elements; a change in any one aspect of
the system can lead to changes in others. How responsive
a mother or father may be at any given moment is deter-
mined not only by that parents characteristic warmth
and the childs characteristic responsiveness, but also by
the patterns they have created jointly and therefore come
to expect in their relationship. Moreover, a full family
systems approach examines parenting in the context of
all relationships within the family and between the fam-
ily and its many larger social contexts (such as culture).
For example, Deal, Hagan, Bass, Hetherington, and
Clingempeel (1999) observed that parents behaved one
way when the whole family was together and another
when each interacted one-on-one with their young child.
Like other living systems, families continually strive to
attain a dynamic balance amid the experiences of
growth and maturation on the one hand, and the need for
consistency on the other. In the family systems view,
Parents 899
emphasis falls on relationships and interactions as well
as contexts that reach beyond the parent and child to en-
compass the full diversity of the dyads social embed-
dedness. Models that limit examination of the effects
of interaction patterns to only the father-child and the
mother-child dyads and the direct effects of one individ-
ual on another are inadequate for understanding the im-
pact of social interaction patterns in families (Parke,
2002, p. 41). In family systems theory, interconnected
subsystems are also organized in a hierarchical struc-
ture; the asymmetrical nature of the parent-child rela-
tionship is necessary for child development.
This multidomain family systems model is built on a
set of central assumptions. One is that the whole is
greater than the sum of its parts. This means that the
structure or organization of relationships in the family
affects the quality of the relationship between any two
family members. For example, each parents relation-
ships with his or her parents affect their joint ability to
work together to parent their child. A major life transi-
tion for one family member is likely to affect other fam-
ily members. Influences within the family system and
between the family and other social systems in the cul-
ture are transactional. Furthermore, family members
are always in the process of development, so that the
family system is always in the process of change.
Key questions that must be addressed in parenting
theory concern the specification of mechanisms by
which parent cognitions and practices produce change in
children (Patterson & Fisher, 2002). By the same token,
theorists must explain how the child impacts the parent.
Successful parenting theories will also have two com-
mon characteristics: They will be based on constructs
that are readily operationalized, and they will specify
effective means of assessment.
Many theoretical accounts for how socialization
takes place have been proposed. For most theories, it is
primarily through parental control and teaching that the
adult culture is passed down to each new generation of
children. Parents are the primary agents who set the
agenda for what children learn and who administer the
rewards and punishments that strengthen desired char-
acteristics and weaken undesired ones in children. More
recent theoretical formulations recognize the role of the
child in interaction with the parent. Central assumptions
of all socialization theories are that, even though social-
ization and resocialization can occur at any point in the
life cycle, childhood is a particularly plastic period
when enduring social skills, personality attributes, and
values are inculcated, and that parent-child interactions
robustly influence children in other circumstances and
at later times.
Looking Ahead to Where Parenting Theory and
Research are Going
We know some, but not nearly enough, about parenting.
The challenge for the future of the discipline is to ac-
knowledge that up to now we have focused too narrowly
on households of predominantly Anglo-Saxon back-
ground (Tomlinson & Swartz, 2003), even though such
families are in the minority worldwide. Contemporary
study fails to adequately represent the cultural diver-
sity and complexity of contemporary parenting. A per-
vading critique of developmental science is that
research in the field has tended to describe the con-
structs, structures, functions, and processes of child
rearing and child development that accord with ideals
mostly or exclusively appropriate to middle-class, in-
dustrialized and developed, Western societies (Born-
stein, 2002c). This unhappy situation cries for change.
In the meanwhile, what follows must be seen and un-
derstood in light of the extant literature.
PARENTS
The majority of children throughout the world grow up
in family systems where there is more than one signifi-
cant parenting figure guiding more than one childs so-
cialization at a time (McHale et al., 2002). Biological
and adoptive mothers and fathers are childrens ac-
knowledged principal caregivers. However, parents are
not the only agents who contribute to the upbringing and
socialization of children. Brothers and sisters (Zukow-
Goldring, 2002) and members of the extended family
(P. K. Smith & Drew, 2002) all have roles to play. Out-
side the family, peers (J. R. Harris, 1995, 1998; Hartup,
1992), for example, also have an undeniable impact.
Moreover, in different cultures (now and historically)
children have been tended by nonparental, nonfamilial
care providersday care workers and metaplot, nurses
and slaveswhether in family day care at home, day
care facilities, or fields (Clarke-Stewart & Allhusen,
2002). In short, many individuals, other than mother and
father, socially parent children (Leon, 2002). This
chapter is circumscribed to parents, although the
900 Parenting Science and Practice
choices parents make to share caregiving with nonpar-
ents are briefly mentioned.
Mothers
Almost all mammalian species are matrilocal (Wilson,
1975). Trivers (1972, 1974) acknowledged the reality
that in land-dwelling mammals after copulation, the fe-
male is left in physical possession of the embryo. Even if
she lays the fertilized egg almost immediately, the male
still has time to abscond, leaving the female with the de-
cision of whether to leave the young to certain death or
stay and rear it. On this account, maternal care is more
common than paternal care among mammals who are
devoted caregivers (Bjorklund et al., 2002). Even
among species where males show considerable parental
altruism, they commonly do less work than females and
vanish more quickly (Wilson, 1975). Among human be-
ings, fathers may withdraw from their children when
they are unhappily married; mothers typically never do
(Kerig, Cowan, & Cowan, 1993). Mothers and fathers
do not necessarily share the same parental investment
strategies.
Human cultures distribute the tasks of child care in
different ways. Even if fathers social and legal claims
on and responsibilities for children were preeminent his-
torically (French, 2002), most people agree that mothers
normally play a more central role in childrens develop-
ment (Barnard & Solchany, 2002; Zero-to-Three, 1997).
Cross-cultural surveys and meta-analyses alike attest to
the primacy of ( biological or adoptive) mothers in child
rearing (Holden & Miller, 1999; Leiderman, Tulkin, &
Rosenfeld, 1977). The maternal role is better articulated
and defined than is the paternal role, and mothers gener-
ally have more opportunities to acquire and practice
skills that are central to child rearing than do fathers.
Normally, mothering helps to interpret and condition fa-
thering, and mothers often serve as gatekeepers to chil-
drens fathers and other caregivers (Allen & Hawkins,
1999). DeLuccie (1994) reported that fathers are more
involved with their children when mothers assess them
to be more competent at caring for children and when
mothers are more satisfied with their care of children.
Parke (2002) observed that many paternal influences
on child development tend to be indirectly mediated
through the fathers impact on the mother.
For these reasons, theorists, researchers, and clini-
cians have historically concerned themselves prepon-
derantly with mothering, rather than parenting. Mothers
and mothering are investigated much more often and
comprehensively than fathers and fathering. There is
thus a more extensive body of information about moth-
ers and children than about fathers, siblings, other rela-
tives, or nonfamilial caregivers and children. Western
industrialized nations have witnessed increases in the
amount of time fathers spend with children; in reality,
however, fathers still typically assume little responsibil-
ity for child care and rearing, and fathers are primarily
helpers to mothers (Cabrera, Tamis-LeMonda, Bradley,
Hofferth, & Lamb, 2000). On average, mothers spend
between 65% and 80% more time than fathers do in di-
rect one-to-one interaction with their young children
(Parke, 2002), and such ratios hold in many different
lands (Belsky, Gilstrap, & Rovine, 1984; Collins & Rus-
sell, 1991; Greenbaum & Landau, 1982; Jackson, 1987;
Kotelchuck, 1976; Montemayor, 1982; Pedersen & Rob-
son, 1969; A. Russell, 1983; G. Russell & Russell,
1987; Szalai, 1972). In both traditional American fami-
lies (Belsky, Garduque, & Hrncir, 1984) and traditional
versus father primary-caregiver Swedish families
(Lamb, Frodi, Frodi, & Hwang, 1982), parental gender
exerts a greater influence on the quality of parent-child
interaction than parental role in the family or employ-
ment status.
Fathers
If motherhood goes along with apple pie, the status of
fathers is curiously more debatable. Some contempo-
rary observers point to the continuing and widespread
abrogation of responsibility by fathers (Blankenhorn,
1995; Popenoe, 1996), whereas others praise fathers
increasing involvement with their children (Lamb,
2000; Parke, 2002; Yeung, Sandberg, Davis-Kern, &
Hofferth, 2001). One finds many fewer nonresident
moms than dads (King, 1994; Seltzer, 1991). But fa-
thers are neither inept nor uninterested in their chil-
dren, of course. Fathers engage children in all of the
parenting practices that mothers do and hold the same
diversity of cognitions. When feeding children, for ex-
ample, fathers, like mothers, respond to childrens
cues, either with social bids or by adjusting the pace of
the feeding (Parke, 2002). Both father and mother
touch and look more closely at a child after the child
has vocalized, and both equally increase their rates of
speech following a childs vocalizing. Although fathers
are capable of performing sensitively, they still yield
principal responsibility for child tending to their wives
Parents 901
(Coltrane, 1996). A. Russell (1983) found that most
Australian fathers believed in a maternal instinct in
regard to child care and that fathers who endorsed that
belief participated less in child care. But some have ar-
gued that fathers are occupied with many more inter-
nal family concerns, such as planning, monitoring, and
worrying about finances (Palkovitz, 2002). Fathers
also contribute uniquely to their childrens develop-
ment; Isley, ONeil, and Parke (1996) reported that,
when maternal affect was accounted for, fathers affect
and control predicted childrens social adaptation. In-
deed, father presence is critical: Having a resident ver-
sus a nonresident father during their first 3 years of life
means fewer behavior problems and a better develop-
mental course at ages 4 to 6 in both European Ameri-
can and Latin American children (Crockett, Eggebeen,
& Hawkins, 1993).
Coparenting and the Division of Parenting Labor
In point of fact, mothers and fathers appear to interact
with and care for children in complementary ways; that
is, they tend to divide the labor of caregiving and engage
children by emphasizing different types of interactions.
When mother-child and father-child play were con-
trasted developmentally (Power, 1985), both mothers
and fathers were found to follow interactional rules of
sharing attentional focus on a toy; however, mothers
tended to follow the childs focus of interest, whereas
fathers tended to establish the attentional focus them-
selves. Mothers language but not fathers, and fathers
physical play but not mothers, predict the popularity of
boys (MacDonald & Parke, 1984; Parke et al., 1989).
Mothers and fathers perceptions of their parental effi-
cacy vary in complementary ways as well. Perozynski
and Kramer (1999) reported that mothers of young chil-
dren were more confident than fathers in their ability to
use strategies that involve reasoning or talking to the
child. In contrast, fathers were more confident than
mothers in their use of directives or the threat of force.
Marital relationships affect the quality of mother-
child and father-child relationships and child outcomes
(Gable, Crnic, & Belsky, 1994; Tamis-LeMonda &
Cabrera, 2002), just as how parents work together as a
coparenting team can have far-reaching consequences
for children (Fincham, 1998). Coparenting broadly
refers to ways that parents (or parental figures) relate
to each other in the role of parent (McHale et al.,
2002). Coparenting comprises multiple interrelated
components: agreement or disagreement on child-rear-
ing issues; support or undermining of the parental role;
and the joint management of family interactions (Fein-
berg, 2003). This literature closely articulates with the
family systems perspective that marital and parent-
child relationships are interdependent (Grych, 2002),
as each is to the childs development (Cox, Paley, &
Harter, 2001; Cummings & Davies, 1994). Mutual
emotional support and validation, modeling and shar-
ing parenting skills, buffering marital conflict or dis-
satisfaction from spilling over into relationships with
children constitute some of the ways coparenting func-
tions to nurture child development. The direct-effects
model of coparenting postulates that exposure to inter-
parental conflict, for example, influences childrens
behavior. Erel and Burman (1995) documented changes
in childrens physiology, cognitions, and emotions
in response to marital conflict. Marital discord not
only affects childrens psychological health and func-
tioning (Cummings, Iannotti, & Zahn-Waxler, 1985;
Grych & Fincham, 1990), such as child internalizing
and externalizing behaviors and disorders (P. A.
Cowan, Cowan, Schultz, & Heming, 1994; Fincham,
Grych, & Osborne, 1994), but also their peer relation-
ships (Kerig, 1995; Ladd & Pettit, 2002). The indirect-
effects model posits that the impact of marital
relationships on children is mediated by the nature and
structure of the parent-parent relationship per se
(Cummings & Watson-OReilly, 1997; Grych & Fin-
cham, 2001), for example, how each parent regulates
the others interactions with the child (gatekeeping).
Marital status makes it easy or difficult for a parent to
provide social support and opens or limits adults phys-
ical and emotional availability to children.
More specific hypotheses have also been advanced to
the effect that emotional security (Davies & Cummings,
1994) and emotion (dys)regulation patterns (Crocken-
berg & Langrock, 2001) explain the links between par-
ents interactions as a couple and childrens relationships
with peers. For example, Cummings (Cummings &
Davies, 1995; Cummings & Wilson, 1999) found that de-
structive marital conflict threatens the childs sense of
safety and emotional security in the family.
Other Caregivers
In many underdeveloped societies, siblings or other
family members regularly care for children (Zukow-
Goldring, 2002), and large numbers of young children
902 Parenting Science and Practice
today in developed societies normatively participate in
nonparental care, enter that care early, stay for longer
periods of time, and change types of care often (Clarke-
Stewart & Allhusen, 2002; Lamb, 1998). Based on data
from the National Longitudinal Study of Youth, Fuller-
Thompson, Minkler, and Driver (1997) reported that
11% of grandparents were the primary caregivers of
their grandchildren (Chase-Lansdale, Brooks-Gunn, &
Zamsky, 1994). Using data from the National Study of
Families and Households, Baydar and Brooks-Gunn
(1998) reported that approximately 12% of grandmoth-
ers resided with a grandchild, and approximately 43%
provided child care on a regular basis. An estimated
12.9 million American children under age 6 are enrolled
in some kind of nonparental child care on a regular basis
(U.S. Bureau of the Census, 1997). Moreover, the Na-
tional Institute of Child Health and Human Develop-
ment Early Child Care Research Network (1997) found
that the vast majority of children (81%) in a U.S. na-
tional study experienced regular nonmaternal child care
during their first 12 months of life, with most starting
prior to 4 months of age and enrolled for nearly 30 hours
per week. Fewer than 20% of children spent their entire
1st year at home with no supplemental care. As a conse-
quence of contemporary social and cultural changes,
most notably dual parent employment, the demand for
high-quality community-based child care services has
burgeoned, and nonparental caregivers have assumed
increasing responsibility for meeting childrens develop-
mental needs and essentially for preparing children for
a future in society (A. E. Gottfried, Gottfried, &
Bathurst, 2002). As more families have two parental
wage earners earlier in the family life cycle, and more
children are cared for by nonparental caregivers earlier
in their lives, a looming issue for parents (as well as
child care educators, researchers, and policymakers) is
the long-term cumulative impact of nonparental child
care on parents and children alike.
Summary
Mothers and fathers share central parenting responsibil-
ities for child rearing, although siblings, grandparents,
and various nonparental figures also fill salient roles in
child care. Often, child caregivers behave in a comple-
mentary fashion to one another, dividing the full labor of
child rearing by emphasizing mutually reinforcing re-
sponsibilities and activities. Still unclear, however, are
the long-term cumulative implications of diverse pat-
terns of parenting.
DETERMINANTS OF PARENTING
A critical step on the path to fully understanding parent-
ing is to evaluate forces that shape it. The origins of
individual variation in maternal and paternal caregiv-
ing, whether of cognitions or practices, are extremely
complex. Evolution and history; biology and ethology;
family configuration; formal and informal support net-
works; social, educational, legal, medical, and govern-
mental institutions; socioeconomic class, designed and
natural ecology, and cultureas well as children them-
selveseach contributes to constructing the parent.
Nonetheless, certain groups of factors seem to be of
paramount importance: (a) intrapersonal and intrapsy-
chic characteristics of parents, ( b) actual or perceived
characteristics of children, and (c) contextual character-
istics. This text follows an ecological orientation from
proximal to distal to describe and evaluate the multiple
antecedents of parenting (Belsky, 1984; Bronfenbrenner
& Morris, 1998). Each of these domains is thought to in-
fluence parenting directly and, indirectly through par-
enting, child development.
Characteristics of Parents Affect Parenting
Forces within the parent shape parenting. Even if most
parents face the formidable challenges of parenthood
with a degree of psychological naivet, parents do not
meet the test totally unprepared. Both biology and cul-
ture equip parents to interpret and respond to the tasks
of parenting as well as to childhood and its vicissitudes.
Biological Forces That Shape Parenting
Because securing the survival of offspring is an impor-
tant element underlying evolutionary selection, it is
likely that specific brain mechanisms developed to sub-
serve these operations. Animal studies show that the
mammalian forebrain plays an important part in the ex-
pression of reproductive behavior, one that is different in
female and male animals and is reflected in functional
and morphologic sex differences in neural forebrain cir-
cuitry (Simerly, 2002). The pivotal role of the forebrain
in parenting in mammals is further supported by its in-
volvement in the regulation of specific behaviors during
nursing and maternal care of offspring (Champagne,
Diorio, Sharma, & Meaney, 2001; Corter & Fleming,
2002; Sheehan & Numan, 2002). Imaging studies reveal
that mothers show neural activation in limbic forebrain
structures in response to infant crying compared with
Determinants of Parenting 903
neutral sounds (Lorberbaum et al., 1999) and bilateral
activation of the orbitofrontal cortex while viewing pic-
tures of their own versus unfamiliar infants (Nitschke
et al., 2004). Such experience-dependent neuroplastic
effects in the human brain are likely to subserve the bi-
ological requirements of child care. This can be a criti-
cal element in bonding and in securing offspring
survival and well-being, thus fostering the reproductive
fitness of subsequent generations.
The expression of parental behaviors also depends on
hormonal factors that are at least homologous in females
and males (Corter & Fleming, 2002; Reburn & Wynne-
Edwards, 1999). For example, increases in prolactin lev-
els have been implicated in the expression of parenting
behaviors in female as well as male mammals (Dixson &
George, 1982), and, whereas estradiol plays a role in
regulating maternal behaviors in female animals, the
conversion of testosterone into estradiol is believed to be
involved in regulating paternal behavior in male animals
(Trainor & Marler, 2001, 2002). Human fathers show
different peripheral steroid hormone levels compared
with childless men (Storey, Walsh, Quinton, & Wynne-
Edwards, 2000).
H. Papou sek and Papou sek (2002) developed the no-
tion that some parenting practices are biologically wired
in human beings. Intuitive parenting involves responses
that are developmentally suited to the age and abilities
of the child and that often have the goal of enhancing
child adaptation and development. Parents regularly
enact intuitive parenting programs in an unconscious
fashion; such programs do not require the time and ef-
fort typical of conscious decision making, and, being
more rapid and efficient, they utilize less attentional re-
serve. An example of such intuitive parenting is the use
of child-directed speech (M. Papou sek, Papou sek, &
Bornstein, 1985). Special characteristics of child-
directed speech include prosodic features ( higher pitch,
greater range of frequencies, more varied and exagger-
ated intonation); simplicity features (shorter utterances,
slower tempo, longer pauses between phrases, fewer em-
bedded clauses, fewer auxiliaries); redundancy features
(more repetition over shorter amounts of time, more im-
mediate repetition); lexical features (special forms like
mama); and content features (restriction of topics to
the childs world). Cross-cultural study attests that
child-directed speech is (essentially) universal (Jacob-
son, Boersma, Fields, & Olson, 1983; Snow, 1977; but
see Ratner & Pye, 1984). Indeed, parents find it diffi-
cult to resist or modify such intuitive behaviors, even
when asked to do so (Trevarthen, 1979). Additional sup-
port for the premise that some interactions with children
are intuitive comes from observations that nonparents
(males and females) who have little prior experience
with children modify their speech as parents do when a
young child is present and even when asked to imagine
speaking to one (Jacobson et al., 1983). When communi-
cating with their children, even deaf mothers modify
their sign language the way hearing mothers use child-
directed speech (Erting, Prezioso, & Hynes, 1994).
Many parenting cognitions and practices are likewise
unconscious, habitual, and possibly thoughtless (see
Goodnow, 1997; Kuczynski, 1984).
Personality and Parenting
The idea that personality has a significant part to play in
parenting is commonsensical: One cannot take the per-
son out of the parent (Vondra, Sysko, & Belsky, 2005,
p. 2). This idea has been acknowledged formally at least
since Sigmund Freud (1949; see Cohler & Paul, 2002),
and a more contemporary view derived from personality
psychology is that some features of parenting might
reflect general and stable personality characteristics
(Kochanska, Clark, & Goldman, 1997). Bronfenbrenner
and Morris (1998) contended that personality factors
constitute person force characteristics most likely
to influence childrens development because personality
not only affects parenting directly but also shapes other
social contextual factors and forces that influence par-
enting, including spouse selection, marital relation-
ships, occupational experiences, and friendships and
social supports (Belsky, 1984).
Empirical investigators have long connected various
forms of psychopathology with impaired parenting
(Downey & Coyne, 1990; Rutter & Quinton, 1984). Bel-
sky, Crinic, and Woodworth (1995), for example, reported
that neuroticism is a robust predictor of negativity/rejec-
tion toward children, and Kochanska et al. (1997) found
that mothers high in the personality characteristics of
negative emotionality and disagreeableness were rated by
observers as being more rejecting of their children (see
also L. A. Clark, Kochanska, & Ready, 2000). Whether
fleeting, as in response to economic circumstances or
even the birth of the baby (Zahn-Waxler, Duggal, & Gru-
ber, 2002), or enduring, depression affects parenting ad-
versely. Depressed mothers fail to experienceand
convey to their childrenmuch happiness with life. Such
feelings diminish responsiveness or discoordinate interac-
tions (Tronick & Gianino, 1986), and so depressed parent-
ing is thought to have short- as well as long-term
consequences for children (Lyons-Ruth, Zoll, Connell, &
904 Parenting Science and Practice
Grunebaum, 1986). Field, Healy, Goldstein, and Guthertz
(1990) observed that in face-to-face interactions, children
of depressed mothers show less positive and more nega-
tive facial affect, vocalize less, protest more, and seem to
make less effort to change or improve their lot than do
children of nondepressed mothers.
Relative to the amount of attention that has been de-
voted to studying associations between psychological
disorders and parenting, the study of normal person-
ality and parenting has been neglected (Belsky &
Barends, 2002; Vondra et al., 2005). Parenting reflects
transient feelings as well as enduring personality traits
(Belsky & Barends, 2002). Features of personality fa-
vorable to good parenting might include empathic
awareness, predictability, nonintrusiveness, and emo-
tional availability (Martin, 1989). Perceived self-
efficacy is also likely to affect parenting positively
because parents who feel competent are reinforced and
thus motivated to engage in further interactions with
their children, which in turn provides them with addi-
tional opportunities to read their childrens signals
fully, interpret them correctly, and respond appropri-
ately. The more rewarding the interaction, the more mo-
tivated are parents to seek quality interaction again
(Teti & Candelaria, 2002).
Within the normal range, personality characteristics
such as self-centeredness and adaptability might be es-
pecially pertinent to parenting. For example, adult
adaptability would be vital in the first few months,
when childrens activities appear unpredictable and
their cues undifferentiated, and children themselves
generally less readable. Self-centered parents may be
less likely to put childrens needs before their own (Dix,
1991). Women who are more preoccupied with them-
selves, as measured by physical and sexual concerns,
show less effective parenting patterns in the postpartum
year (Grossman, Eichler, & Winikoff, 1980). Self-
absorbed, these mothers may not show sensitivity to
their childrens needs (C. P. Cowan & Cowan, 1992), a
situation that also seems prevalent among teen mothers
(Osofsky, Hann, & Peebles, 1993).
Family of Origin and Parenting
Through intergenerational transmission, via interlocked
genetic and experiential pathways, purposefully or unin-
tentionally, one generation influences the parenting be-
liefs and behaviors of the next (van IJzendoorn, 1992).
Fraiberg and her colleagues (Fraiberg, Adelson, &
Shapiro, 2003) referred to these influences as ghosts in
the nursery. So a parents experiences with his or her
own parents may have continuing effects on his or her
own parenting (Caspi & Elder, 1988; P. K. Smith &
Drew, 2002). Mothers who report having had secure and
realistic perceptions of their attachments to their own
mother, for example, are themselves more likely to have
securely attached children (Cummings & Cummings,
2002; Main & Goldwyn, 1984). Ruoppila (1991) found
significant correlations between grandparental and
parental child rearing in a Finnish sample. Vermulst, de
Brock, and van Zutphen (1991) examined parental func-
tioning across generations in a Dutch sample of grand-
mother-mother dyads. Approximately one-third of the
variation in mothers parental functioning could be ex-
plained in terms of earlier parental functioning of the
grandmother. The use of physically aggressive and puni-
tive techniques in the grandparent-parent generation
predicts similar behavior in the parent-grandchild gener-
ation and antisocial behavior in grandchildren (Farring-
ton, 1993; Murphy-Cowan & Stringer, 1999). Marital
violence in the family of origin tends to repeat in the
successive generation (Stith et al., 2000). When parents
abuse their children, the children are at risk of repeating
the pattern as adults with their own children (Cicchetti,
Toth, & Maughan, 2000; Newcomb & Locke, 2001;
Pears & Capaldi, 2001). Sociological studies and meta-
analyses find that adult children whose parents divorced
are more likely to end their own marriages in divorce
(Amato, 1996; Chase-Lansdale, Cherlin, & Kiernan,
1995). Maritally dissatisfied couples are more likely to
have had unhappily married parents (Amato & Booth,
2001; Schneewind & Ruppert, 1998).
The Adult Attachment Interview (AAI; George, Ka-
plan, & Main, 1985) assesses an adults model of his or
her own relationship with his or her parents. A strong
predictive link has emerged between the childs attach-
ment with the mother and the mothers own AAI classi-
fication (P. K. Smith & Drew, 2002). Van IJzendoorn
(1995) reviewed AAI studies that included 854 parent-
child dyads and found 75% concordance between the
parents autonomous/nonautonomous classification on
the AAI and a childs secure/insecure classification in
the Strange Situation. The different components of the
person are not equally telling, however. Barends and
Belsky (2000) compared the predictive power of three
personality traits (Neuroticism, Extraversion, Agree-
ableness) with that of mothers working models of at-
tachment, as measured by the AAI: Personality traits
predicted mothering observed under naturalistic condi-
Determinants of Parenting 905
tions in the home better than whether a mothers inter-
nal working model of attachment was autonomous, dis-
missive, or preoccupied.
Age and Stage of Life in Parenting
The contemporary demographics of parturition indicate
that the rate of teenage motherhood, though epidemic
(421,626 babies in the United States in 2003; Hamilton,
Martin, & Sutton, 2004), has been decreasing slightly,
as has the birth rate for women in their early 20s. At the
same time, increasing numbers of older adult women are
delaying conception, extending the age range for preg-
nancy and birth (Hamilton et al., 2004). These demo-
graphic changes might be ascribable to several factors.
Among teens, the fear of AIDS and the impact of AIDS-
prevention education, the introduction and increased use
of new forms of birth control, welfare reform, compul-
sory education, the rise of a more religious and conser-
vative generation, an economic climate with more
opportunities for women, and an array of youth sex edu-
cation programs that stress both abstinence and contra-
ception may have contributed to the decline (McKay &
Carrns, 2004). Similarly, multiple factors operate at the
other end of the age continuum. The aging of the baby
boom generation translates into greater absolute num-
bers of women in their late 30s and 40s than in previous
decades (Ventura, Martin, Curtin, & Mathews, 1997).
Moreover, delayed marriage, the pursuit of advanced ed-
ucation, careerism, and high rates of divorce all can
contribute to the decision to postpone childbearing. In
addition, advances in birth control have made it possible
to delay becoming pregnant, and advances in assisted re-
productive technologies (in vitro fertilization) have
made it possible for older women to become pregnant
(Golombok, 2002).
These demographic trends, in turn, raise questions
about effects that may obtain between age or stage of
life and parenting. The psychosocial impacts of early
childbirth are fairly well established. Adolescent moth-
ers experience more pregnancy and delivery problems
and have less healthy babies than do adult mothers
(Coley & Chase-Lansdale, 1998). Very young mothers
are also known to express less desirable child-rearing
attitudes and to hold less realistic expectations about
child development than older mothers (J. Hardy, Astone,
Brooks-Gunn, Shapiro, & Miller, 1998; Moore &
Brooks-Gunn, 2002). In general, parenthood at very
young ages is associated with less favorable maternal ac-
tions toward children (Barratt & Roach, 1995; Coley &
Chase-Lansdale, 1998; Moore & Brooks-Gunn, 2002;
Pomerleau, Scuccimarri, & Malcuit, 2003).
The effects of aging on parenting are not so clear-cut.
A 35-year-old woman has a 1 in 400 chance of conceiv-
ing a child with Down syndrome, and this likelihood in-
creases to 1 in 110 by age 40, and to approximately 1 in
35 by the age of 45 (National Down Syndrome Society,
2000). However, older mothers are more likely to adhere
to good diets and gain weight appropriately during preg-
nancy and to begin prenatal care in the first trimester of
pregnancy, and are less likely to smoke during preg-
nancy. Age is often conceived of as a marker for matu-
rity, perspective, and patience; older adult mothers tend
to possess more experience and information and may
feel more psychologically ready to assume responsibili-
ties of child rearing. When Garrett, Ferron, Ngandu,
Bryant, and Harbin (1994) created a structural model of
the determinants of childrens motor and social develop-
ment, for example, mothers readiness to be a parent was
found to be determined by competency and maturity as
measured by her age at childbirth.
Whether and how age relates to parenting cognitions
or practices appears to depend on specifics of the as-
sessment. On the one hand, mothers of all ages possess
implicit beliefs (Holden & Buck, 2002) and engage in
child-directed speech (H. Papou sek & Bornstein, 1992).
On the other hand, the more mature, experienced, and
well-to-do mothers are, the more appropriate and opti-
mal their parenting cognitions and practices are likely
to be. However, on the third hand, it was once standard
to believe that optimal childbearing takes place between
about 20 and about 30 years of age (Rindfuss &
Bumpass, 1978). Rossi (1980) proposed a timing-of-
events model that suggests that socially off-time child-
bearing results in decreased social reinforcement and
leads to the expectation of curvilinear relations between
age and parenting. Thus, having a child when very young
or very old might represent off-time versus on-time
variations in the progression through this key phase in
the life cycle (Helson, Mitchell, & Moane, 1984; Lowen-
thal, Thurner, & Chiriboga, 1976; Neugarten, 1968).
Of course, age is a social address (Wohlwill,
1973), and more proximal intrapersonal factors may
play a more central role in parenting. At present, how-
ever, there is no comprehensive theory of womens adult
development (Roberts & Newton, 1987). For this rea-
son, age usually stands as a reasonable proxy. We
can nonetheless point to some critical developmental
phenomena that would help to mark adult caregiving.
906 Parenting Science and Practice
Executive functions, for example, coordinate cognitive
and metacognitive processes through monitoring and
controlling the use of knowledge and strategies (Butter-
field, Albertson, & Johnston, 1995). Normally, execu-
tive functions include self-regulation, sequencing,
flexibility, response and inhibition, planning, and orga-
nization of behavior (Denckla & Reiss, 1997; Eslinger,
1996). The orderly approach to problems, maintenance
of problem solving sets for future goals, control
processes for organizing behavior over time, flexibility
and effectiveness of verbal self-regulation, skillful use
of strategy, and behaviors that alter the likelihood of
later events and behaviors are all executive functions
and describe well the requirements of parenting.
Grattan and Eslinger (1992) suggested that cognitive
flexibility and perspective-taking ability are cognitive
prerequisites to empathic understanding; impulse con-
trol, temporal integration, and synthesis of multiple
pieces of information are cognitive prerequisites to
identity formation; symbolic thinking, weighing alter-
native possibilities, and considering consequences
among alternatives are cognitive prerequisites to moral
maturity. Thus, executive functions exert powerful in-
fluences on social behavior, and immaturity or impair-
ment of executive function can lead to demanding and
self-centered behavior, lack of social tact and restraint,
impulsive speech and actions, disinhibition, apathy and
indifference, and lack of empathy, all of which are hall-
marks of dysregulated parenting.
Pennington, Bennetto, McAleer, and Roberts (1996)
further detailed the neuropsychological underpinnings
of executive function. The prefrontal cortex and its ex-
tended networks are thought to mediate executive func-
tions, and they show the most prolonged course of
postnatal development of any region of the human brain,
with changes in synaptic density detectable even into the
teenage years (Huttenlocher, 1990). Giedd et al. (1999)
also showed that increases in white matter continue
through adolescence into early adulthood, particularly
in frontal brain regions. Notably, individuals with local-
ized injury to the prefrontal lobe display poor parenting
(Eslinger, Grattan, Damasio, & Damasio, 1992). Con-
sider patient DT, who
proved unable to anticipate and meet her childs needs,
such as planning meals, changing clothing, and providing
nurturance and comfort. . . . Her performance has . . .
been erratic, impulsive, and marked by poor follow
through on required tasks, failure to learn from mistakes,
and very negative reactions to criticism. . . . [She has]
very limited capacity for empathic understanding, inade-
quate identity development, difficulties in vocational
adjustment, and a concrete level of moral reasoning.
(Grattan & Eslinger, 1992, p. 185)
DT shows how a profound and devastating lack of execu-
tive functions undermines parenting in an individual
who otherwise possesses normal motor and sensory
functions and a broadly normal range of intellectual per-
formance, perceptual abilities, language, and memory.
Characteristics of Children Affect Parenting
Subtle as well as not so subtle characteristics of children
also influence parenting (Hodapp & Ly, 2005; Karraker
& Coleman, 2005). Some child effects are universal
and common to all children; others are unique to a par-
ticular child or situation. Children actively select, mod-
ify, and create their own environments, including their
parenting (Bell, 1968, 1970; Scarr & Kidd, 1983). An
experimental study by Anderson, Lytton, and Romney
(1986) paired conduct-disordered boys with mothers of
conduct-disordered boys and with mothers of normal
boys. Conduct-disordered boys elicited negative parent-
ing practices from both sets of mothers. Clearly, in this
experimental setting (which controls for genetic ef-
fects), characteristics of the child contributed to the
type of parenting displayed. A reciprocal effect or trans-
actional model, which asserts that parenting not only af-
fects child behavior but that child behavior also affects
parenting, contemporaneously prevails in parenting the-
ory and research.
Some physical features of children likely affect par-
ents everywhere, perhaps in similar ways. By the conclu-
sion of the first trimester, fetuses are felt to move in
utero (quickening), and soon after (with support) fe-
tuses may survive outside the womb (viability). These
are significant markers in the life of the child and in the
lives and psyches of the childs parents. Similarly, after
birth, common child characteristics likely influence
parenting. The newborn has a large head dominated by a
disproportionately large forehead, widely spaced sizable
eyes, a small snub nose, an exaggeratedly round face,
and a small chin. The ethologist Lorenz (1935/1970) ar-
gued that these physiognomic features of babyishness
provoke adults to express nurturant reactionseven
across different species (Alley, 1981, 1983). And from
the moment of birth, babies exercise many effective sig-
Determinants of Parenting 907
nals that influence parenting: Crying motivates adults to
approach and soothe, for example, and smiling encour-
ages adults to stay near (Ainsworth et al., 1978).
Other structural characteristics of children affect par-
enting and the quality of parent-child interaction; child
health status, gender, and developmental age are three
significant factors. Preterm children, for example, often
have difficulty regulating engagements with parents, as
evidenced in increased gaze aversion, decreased play, and
lower levels of joint attention, and, reciprocally, their
mothers are more active and directive (Goldberg & Di-
Vitto, 2002). Although there is evidence that parenting
girls and boys is surprisingly similar in many ways
(Leaper, 2002; Lytton & Romney, 1991), child gender or-
ganizes parents descriptions, impressions, and expecta-
tions of children from the start of life (Condry & Condry,
1976; J. Z. Rubin, Provenzano, & Luria, 1974): Newborn
nurseries provide color-coded blankets, accessories, and
so forth; baby showers are carefully adorned with regard
to sex; and children are fastidiously dressed in sex-typed
clothing (Shakin, Shakin, & Sternglanz, 1985). Mond-
schein, Adolph, and Tamis-LeMonda (2000) found that
mothers of 11-month-old males overestimated how well
their babies would crawl down a sloped pathway, whereas
mothers of 11-month-old females underestimated how
well their babies would do, but subsequent tests of crawl-
ing ability on the sloped path revealed no sex differences
in infant crawling. Finally, stage of child development per
se exerts pervasive control over parental behavior. Cross-
cultural study shows that mothers of younger children use
more affect-laden speech, but that, as children achieve
more sophisticated levels of motor exploration and cogni-
tive comprehension, mothers increasingly orient, com-
ment, and prepare children for the world outside the dyad
by increasing amounts of information in their speech
(Bornstein et al., 1992). Similarly, childrens achieving
the ability to stand upright and walk alters the nature and
quality of parenting (Biringen, Emde, Campos, & Appel-
baum, 1995). With each child advance, parenting changes
in some corresponding ways.
Idiosyncratic characteristics of individual children are
no less stimulating to parents. Goldberg (1977) taxono-
mized three salient child characteristics that affect par-
ents: responsiveness, readability, and predictability.
Responsiveness refers to the extent and quality of child
reactivity to stimulation. Readability refers to the defini-
tiveness of child behavioral signals. Predictability refers
to the degree to which child behaviors can be anticipated
reliably. Each child possesses his or her unique profile of
these characteristics that will influence parents. For ex-
ample, an easily read child produces unambiguous cues
that allow parents to recognize the childs state of arousal
quickly, interpret signals promptly, and thus respond con-
tingently. Having a temperamentally easy child or per-
ceiving a child as temperamentally easy (relatively
happy, predictable, soothable, and sociable) enhances a
mothers feelings of competence (Deutch, Ruble, Flem-
ing, Brooks-Gunn, & Stangor, 1988).
Childhood is also change, and every child changes at
his or her own rate. Understanding, anticipating, and
responding to dynamic change in the context of individ-
ual variation challenge parents. Parents need to know
about and be vigilant to all the complications and sub-
tleties of child development. Child development involves
parallel and rapid growth in biological, psychological,
and social spheres, and normal development may be
nonlinear in nature, stalling sometimes, or even regress-
ing temporarily (Bever, 1982; C. C. Harris, 1983;
Strauss & Stavey, 1982).
Every child is an original. Parenting a child is thus
akin to trying to judge a moving target, the ever chang-
ing child developing in fits and starts at his or her own
pace. Interest in the origins and expression of child-to-
child variability occupies a central position in parental
thinking about child development. The ages at which in-
dividual children might achieve a given developmental
milestone typically vary enormously (some children say
their first word at 9 months, others at 29 months), just as
children of a given age vary dramatically among them-
selves on nearly every index of development (at 1 year,
some toddlers comprehend 10 words, others 75). Of
course, when and how their children talk or achieve pu-
berty exercises strong psychological and behavioral im-
pacts on parents.
A major problem faced by parents is that, at base,
they are constantly trying to divine what is inside their
childs head: what children want, what they know, how
they feel, what they will do next vis--vis the things and
people around them. Thus, parents seem constantly in
search of patterns, often inferring them on the basis of
single transient events.
Contextual Characteristics Affect Parenting
In addition to biology, personality, and children, social
and societal factors condition and channel beliefs and
behaviors of parents. Family structure, social support
908 Parenting Science and Practice
networks, socioeconomic class, and culture, for exam-
ple, encourage or discourage diverse patterns of parent-
ing principles and practices. It is also important to
recognize that child-rearing cognitions and practices
evolve and change (Bronfenbrenner, 1958; French,
2002), and the attitudes and actions of parents at any
one time may differ from those characteristic of parents
of different generations.
Family Structure and Parenting
Parenting is influenced by family configuration, among
other social situational factors. One of the more dra-
matic changes in family dynamics is the one that takes
place when a second baby is born (Mendelson, 1993;
Stewart, 1991); consequently, the social and physical
ecologies of first- and later-borns differ (Dunn &
Plomin, 1990). Parents treat their second-born children
in many ways differently than they treat their first-born
children (Sulloway, 1996). Mothers engage, respond,
stimulate, talk, and express positive affection more to
their firstborns than to later-borns, even when first-
and later-borns show no differences in their behavior,
indicating that these maternal behaviors do not reflect
child effects (Belsky, Gilstrap, & Rovine, 1984). How-
ever, mothers are also prone to rate their firstborns as
more difficult (J. E. Bates, 1987), which may derive
from the fact that firstborns actually are more difficult
children, or alternatively, because first-time mothers
are less at ease with their children and thus tend to per-
ceive them as more demanding. Reciprocally, multi-
paras report higher self-efficacy than primiparas (Fish
& Stifter, 1993).
The same parents may treat their children in different
ways for a multitude of reasons. Dunn (1995), Plomin
(1994), and their colleagues (Hetherington, Reiss, &
Plomin, 1994) have drawn attention to the importance of
understanding variation in parent-child relationship
quality within families. Parents may treat children in
the same family differently because children differ in
age, cognitive level, personality characteristics, sex, or
other personal experiences. Combined with variation in
genetic makeup, within-family variation in parental
treatment is a potent factor in accounting for why chil-
dren in the same family differ from one another (Dunn
& Plomin, 1990; Hetherington et al., 1994).
Social Network and Parenting
Having a baby is a major transition in a persons life,
marked by dramatic changes in information seeking,
self-definition, and role responsibility (Belsky, 1984;
C. P. Cowan & Cowan, 1992). Integration or isolation
from potential support networks mitigates or exacer-
bates parenting (Cochran & Niego, 2002). Social sup-
port refers to the psychological and tangible resources
available to individuals through their relationships with
family, friends, neighbors, work associates, and others
(Cutrona & Suhr, 1990; Cutrona & Troutman, 1986; Jen-
nings, Stagg, & Connors, 1991). Crockenberg (1988)
taxonomized social support as emotional, instrumental,
or informational. Both informal support systems (the ex-
tended family) and formal ones (schools, child care,
parent education programs, and professionals) influence
parenting (Cochran & Niego, 2002; Cotterell, 1986;
Crockenberg, 1988; Jennings et al., 1991). Lee and Col-
letta (1983) studied support-parenting relations in ado-
lescent parents with young children. Mothers who were
satisfied with their support reported that they were more
affectionate with their children, whereas mothers who
were dissatisfied with their support reported more hos-
tility, indifference, and rejection of their children. More
child care support is associated with higher-quality
face-to-face interactions between mothers and babies
(Levine, Garcia Coll, & Oh, 1985). Levitt, Weber, and
Clark (1986) confirmed the importance of support from
the spouse for mothers well-being in intact families and
extended the impact of that support to differences in the
infant-mother relationship. Emotional and child care
support from the spouse, but not from other family mem-
bers, are associated with greater life satisfaction and
more positive maternal affect. In fact, intimate support
from husbands appears to have the most general positive
consequences for maternal competence (Crnic, Green-
berg, Ragozin, Robinson, & Basham, 1983). Mothers
social support moderates the effects of daily hassles of
parenting (Crnic & Greenberg, 1990): Socially sup-
ported mothers are less harried and less overwhelmed,
have fewer competing demands on their time, and as a
consequence are more available to their children.
A generalized benefit of social support could occur
because large social networks provide mothers with
regular positive experiences and a set of stable, so-
cially rewarded roles in the community. This kind of
support could be related to overall well-being because
it provides for positive affect, a sense of predictability
and stability in ones life situation, and recognition of
self-worth. Members of support networks teach and
encourage parents to use more developmentally appro-
priate caregiving (Bronfenbrenner & Crouter, 1983;
Determinants of Parenting 909
Tolson & Wilson, 1990). A critical question in this lit-
erature is whether it is the objective amount of support
available to a parent that is important, or parents per-
ceptions of that support. Hashima and Amato (1994)
found in a nationally representative sample that moth-
ers perceived social support was negatively associated
with punitive and other negative parenting behaviors.
Another question in this literature relates to the nature
and source of support. To establish social support net-
works for information about child rearing, middle-class
American parents typically consult professionals,
books, and magazines, as well as relatives and friends
(Clarke-Stewart, 1998; Young, 1991). Mothers in other
social classes and cultures vary from this mode of data
collection, however.
Socioeconomic Status and Parenting
Socioeconomic status (SES) is influential in parenting
(Bornstein & Bradley, 2003). Mothers in different SES
groups behave similarly in certain ways; however, SES
also orders the home environment and other practices of
parents toward children (Bornstein, Hahn, Suwalsky, &
Haynes, 2003; Hoff, Laursen, & Tardif, 2002). SES-
related variation in parenting has diverse effects, as in
the likelihood that parents serve their children spinach
and read books on child care (Hoff et al., 2002). Large
numbers of new mothers in the United States have not
finished high school, are not married, or are only
teenagers themselves when their babies are born.
Parental education is a key factor in SES (Bornstein
et al., 2003). Lower-SES mothers refer to books or other
written materials less readily as sources of information
about child rearing and child development, whereas
middle-SES mothers report that reading material is
their primary source of information (Furstenberg,
Brooks-Gunn, & Chase-Lansdale, 1989; Hofferth, 1987;
Young, 1991), and they seek out and absorb expert ad-
vice about child development (Lightfoot & Valsiner,
1992). Parents with more education possess more for-
mal knowledge about child development norms and theo-
ries and about child-rearing practices (Conrad, Gross,
Fogg, & Ruchala, 1992; MacPhee, 1981; Palacios &
Moreno, 1996; Parks & Smeriglio, 1986). Not surpris-
ingly, parent education links to many child health and
psychosocial outcomes (E. Chen, Matthews, & Boyce,
2002; J. R. Smith, Brooks-Gunn, & Klebanov, 1997).
When Duncan and Brooks-Gunn (1997) statistically
controlled for household income and other demographic
characteristics, they still found that higher levels of ma-
ternal education were associated with better cognitive
and educational outcomes in children.
Conversely, low SES and poor education are risk fac-
tors in parenting and childrens development on many
accounts. Low SES adversely affects mothers psycho-
logical functioning and is associated with harsh or in-
consistent disciplinary practices (McLoyd, 1998;
Simons, Whitbeck, Conger, & Wu, 1991). Low- com-
pared to middle-SES parents typically provide children
fewer opportunities for variety in daily stimulation, less
appropriate play materials, and less total stimulation
(A. W. Gottfried, 1984). Significantly, middle-class
mothers converse with their children more, and in sys-
tematically more sophisticated ways, than do working-
class mothers (Hart & Risley, 1995; Hoff, 2003). These
social class differences in maternal speech to children
are pervasive: In Israel, for example, upper-class moth-
ers talk, label, and ask what questions more often
than do lower-middle-class mothers (Ninio, 1980).
Higher-SES mothers encouragement in language un-
doubtedly facilitates self-expression in children; higher-
SES children produce more sounds and later more words
than do lower-SES children (Hart & Risley, 1995; M.
Papou sek et al., 1985). Parents in higher socioeconomic
strata also change more flexibly and more rapidly in re-
sponse to changes in developmental theory than do par-
ents in lower socioeconomic strata (Bronfenbrenner,
1958). Lower-SES parents believe they have less control
over the outcome of their childrens development than
do higher-SES parents (Elder, Eccles, Ardelt, & Lord,
1995; Luster, Rhoades, & Hass, 1989). Kohn (1963,
1969, 1979) hypothesized that social class differences
in fathers goals and expectations for their children, for
example, were related to differences in the requirements
and expectations fathers needed to succeed in their jobs.
Overall, financial and social stresses adversely affect
the general well-being and health of parents and demand
attention and emotional energy from them (Magnuson &
Duncan, 2002). In McLoyds (1998) analysis, great
stresses on impoverished parents stemming from the day-
to-day struggle to find the resources to pay for food and
rent, and the stresses of trying to cope with living in
crowded housing and deteriorated, dangerous neighbor-
hoods undermine parenting skills and contribute to disor-
ganizing family life. These circumstances, in turn, may
reduce parents attentiveness, patience, and tolerance to-
ward children (Crnic & Low, 2002). McLoyd found that
the deterioration of parenting is responsible for many
of the adjustment difficulties of children growing up in
910 Parenting Science and Practice
impoverished families (see Conger, Ge, Elder, Lorenz, &
Simons, 1994). The effects of parental poverty appear to
depend on the age and sex of the child, however (Elder,
1974), and parenting in the upper class is not immune
from disadvantage either (Luthar, 2003).
Culture and Parenting
Like social class, culture pervasively influences how
parents view parenting and how they parent (Bornstein,
1991, 2002c; Harkness & Super, 1996, 2002; LeVine,
2003). Cultural variation in beliefs and behaviors is al-
ways impressive, whether observed among different eth-
nic groups in one society or among groups in different
parts of the world. In some cultures, children are reared
in extended families in which care is provided by many
relatives; in others, mothers and babies are isolated
from almost all social contexts. In some groups, fathers
are treated as irrelevant social objects; in others, fathers
assume complex responsibilities for children. Baum-
rinds (1967, 1978, 1989) work defined a typology of
middle-class European American approaches to parent-
ing children as mixes of control and responsiveness and
linked the approach to child outcomes. Other socioeco-
nomic, ethnic, or cultural groups in the United States
have different approaches to parenting and value differ-
ent outcomes (Steinberg, Dornbusch, & Brown, 1992;
Steinberg, Mounts, Lamborn, & Dornbusch, 1991). The
majority of research in parenting refers to Western psy-
chological traditions and has not situated parenting by
specific ethnic groups or within specific cultural tradi-
tions. Parenting clearly varies in meaningful ways
across ethnicity and culture, however.
Culture influences parenting and child development
from very early in life in terms of when and how parents
care for children, the extent to which parents permit
children freedom to explore, how nurturant or restric-
tive parents are, which behaviors parents emphasize,
and so forth (Benedict, 1938; Whiting, 1981). For exam-
ple, Japan and the United States maintain reasonably
similar levels of modernity and living standards and
both are child-centered societies, but the two differ dra-
matically in terms of history, beliefs, and child-rearing
goals (Azuma, 1986; Bornstein, 1989b; Caudill, 1973).
Japanese mothers expect early mastery of emotional
maturity, self-control, and social courtesy in their off-
spring, whereas American mothers expect early mastery
of verbal competence and self-actualization in theirs.
American mothers promote autonomy and organize so-
cial interactions with their children so as to foster phys-
ical and verbal assertiveness and independence, and
they promote childrens interest in the external environ-
ment. Japanese mothers organize social interactions so
as to consolidate and strengthen closeness and depen-
dency within the mother-child dyad, and they tend to in-
dulge children (Befu, 1986; Doi, 1973; Kojima, 1986).
Culturally defined beliefs are so powerful that par-
ents sometimes act on them as much as or more than on
what their senses tell them about their own children.
Parents in Samoa, for example, reportedly think of
young children as having an angry and willful character,
and, independent of what children might actually say,
parents consensually report that their childrens first
word is tae, Samoan for shit (Ochs, 1988). Likewise,
an investigation of expected developmental timetables in
new mothers from Australia and Lebanon showed that
culture shapes mothers expectations of children much
more than other factors, such as experiences observing
their own children, comparing them to other children,
and receiving advice from friends and experts (Good-
now, Cashmore, Cotton, & Knight, 1984).
Although social science sometimes succumbs to the
mistaken tendency to lump ethnicity and culture, re-
search shows that each is heterogeneous, and across cul-
tures and across subgroups within the same society,
different parenting cognitions, different parenting prac-
tices, and (not unexpectedly) different patterns of child
outcomes prevail (Ogbu, 1993; Stevenson & Lee, 1990).
Ethnic and cultural differences notwithstanding, par-
ents also show striking commonalities in interacting
with their children. All must nurture and promote the
physical growth of children if their children are to sur-
vive (Bornstein, 2002b; LeVine, 2003). Some similari-
ties may reflect biological bases of caregiving, the
historical convergence of parenting styles, or the in-
creasing prevalence of a single child-rearing pattern
through migration or dissemination via mass media. In
the end, different peoples presumably wish to promote
some similar general competencies in their young as
well as some culture-specific ones. Even where ultimate
goals may be similar, however, cultures may differ in
proximal ways to achieve them (Bornstein, 1995).
Methodological Note
The literature concerning endogenous and exogenous
sources of influence on parenting is rich (R. M. Lerner,
Rothbaum, Boulos, & Castellino, 2002). Typically, how-
ever, antecedents to parenting have been studied in iso-
Parenting Ef fects and Their Multicausal Context 911
lation, and few investigations evaluate multiple influ-
ences simultaneously. Thus, the overlap of different an-
tecedents vis--vis the unique contribution that any one
may make to parenting remains essentially unexplored.
For example, parent age may exert important effects on
parenting and on children because people who have chil-
dren at an early age are more likely to have preexisting
problems that in turn affect their parenting and their
children. Younger parents are likely to have less educa-
tion (Baldwin & Cain, 1981; Elster, McAnarney, &
Lamb, 1983; Luster & Dubow, 1990) and to come from
poorer families (Haveman, Wolfe, & Wilson, 1997).
With this is mind, family systems theorists have empha-
sized the importance of considering the possible inde-
pendence and interdependence of organismic,
environmental, and experiential determinants of parent-
ing (see Belsky, 1984; Bornstein, 2002b; Bornstein &
Sawyer, 2005; Bronfenbrenner & Morris, 1998; R. M.
Lerner et al., 2002; Minuchin, 1985).
Summary
To understand variations in parenting, information
about multiple domains is required (P. A. Cowan, Pow-
ell, & Cowan, 1998), including biological and psycho-
logical characteristics of each individual in the family,
the quality of relationships in parents families of ori-
gin, the quality of the relationship between parents,
their division of roles, communication patterns, and co-
parenting, the quality of relationships between parents
and each child, and relationships between nuclear fam-
ily members and key individuals or institutions outside
the family (friends, peers, work, child care, school, eth-
nicity, culture). Parenting stands at the confluence of
many complex tributaries of influence; some arise
within the individual, whereas others have external
sources in the child, in the society, and in the culture.
PARENTING EFFECTS AND THEIR
MULTICAUSAL CONTEXT
As the twig is bent, so grows the tree. The apple does
not fall far from the tree. These sayings reflect the be-
lief (some would say assumption) that parental ideas and
actions, and the environments parents create, give rise
to differences in children. (The agrarian metaphor for
parenting is especially pervasive, stretching as it does
from kindergarten to culture.) Much of the early lit-
erature on parenting effects built up as a natural con-
sequence of this way of thinking, and much of it used
parent-child correlations as its evidentiary base. How-
ever true it may be that parents influence children, we
recognize that correlation does not prove causation, that
the arrow of influence may run in the opposite direction
(viz., that children influence parents), and that chil-
drens characteristics could be a product of some third
familial or extrafamilial factor. There follows next brief
comment on parenting effects constructed on correla-
tional designs and thereafter an extended discussion of
more powerful and robust approaches to parenting ef-
fects. This section concludes with a review of comple-
mentary information from behavior genetics and group
socialization theory.
Correlational Designs
By some reckoning, parenting is believed to account for
20% to 50% of the variance in child outcomes (Conger
& Elder, 1994; Kochanska & Thompson, 1997; Reiss,
Neiderhiser, Hetherington, & Plomin, 1999). For exam-
ple, Patterson and Forgatch (1995) found substantial
correlations between parents disciplinary and monitor-
ing practices and childrens negative, coercive behavior
both at home and in out-of-home contexts. Chilcoat and
Anthony (1996) showed a significant increase in risk of
drug sampling for every unit of decrease in parental
monitoring after partialling age, sex, and ethnic status.
Most studies of parents and children are correlational
in design, the resultant associations have usually been
modest, and early advocates sometimes overstated their
implications. In actuality, the sizes of zero-order corre-
lations between parent cognitions or practices and child
characteristics vary considerably depending on what
parent and child variables are considered, the way they
are measured, the length of time between predictive and
outcome measurements, which analyses are used to in-
vestigate the questions, which kinds of children or fami-
lies living in which circumstances are studied, and
whether background variables are statistically con-
trolled. For example, direct behavioral observations
yield large effect sizes for environmental associations
with social development, whereas parental reports yield
small effect sizes. It is not reasonable to expect general-
izations about the nature and effects of specific parent-
child interactions to span all the ages/stages and
domains of child development. Parents foster the devel-
opment of specific talents (e.g., by providing sports
912 Parenting Science and Practice
practices) and can influence some activities (e.g., reli-
gious beliefs), but may have less influence on others.
Research that includes a broader array of parenting at-
tributes and focuses on parenting processes tends to
show more robust findings.
Gene-Environment Interactions
Contemporary parenting research has moved beyond a
focus on main effects of parenting toward understanding
more complex interactions between individuals and their
environments. Interactions emerge when a given environ-
ment has different effects on an organism depending on
the organisms traits. Tienari, Wynne, Moring, Lahti, and
Naarala (1994) contrasted children with a schizophrenic
biological parent with adopted children who did not carry
this risk factor to illustrate how a predisposition can
either manifest itself or not, depending on whether cer-
tain triggering environmental conditions are present.
Adoptees who had a schizophrenic biological parent were
more likely to develop a range of psychiatric disorders
(including schizophrenia) than adoptees not at risk, but
only if they were adopted into dysfunctional families.
Bohman (1996) studied adopted children whose biologi-
cal parents did or did not have a history of criminality.
Among adoptees who carried a risk factor from their
biological parents, those who had been adopted into dys-
functional homes were much more likely to become crim-
inals than those whose adoptive parents provided stable
and supportive environments.
An implicit assumption in parenting studies is that the
effects of equivalent parenting are similar for all chil-
dren. However, studies that pool parenting effects across
children with different temperaments might obscure
parental effects. There is no reason to expect that a given
parenting cognition or practice exerts the same effect on
every child. A given parental cognition or practice might
have different effects on children with different tempera-
ments. For example, Kochanska (1995, 1997) found that
maternal responsiveness and the formation of a close
emotional bond with the child fostered the development
of conscience in bold, assertive children, whereas mater-
nal gentle child-rearing techniques that de-emphasized
power assertion were more effective with shy, tempera-
mentally fearful children.
Experiments
Experimental manipulations help to advance beyond
parent-child correlations and interactions to reveal
causality. The strongest statement that could be made
about parenting effects would be based on experimental
treatments or interventions in which parents are as-
signed randomly to treatment /intervention versus con-
trol groups, with resulting changes in the behaviors of
both the parents and their otherwise untreated children
in the experimental groups. Such experiments show (a)
that the intervention alters parenting in the experimental
group, ( b) that there are no changes in the comparison
group, and (c) that change in the mediating mechanisms
in the parent effects change in the child.
Animal Studies
When young rhesus monkeys with different reactivity
patterns are cross-fostered to mothers that are either re-
active or nonreactive, their adult behavior differs from
that shown by the biological offspring of reactive and
nonreactive mothers (Suomi, 1997). Genetically reactive
young animals that are raised by nonreactive mothers for
the first 6 months of their lives and then placed in large
social groups made up of peers and nonrelated older
adults develop normally and rise to the top of their domi-
nance hierarchy. These cross-fostered animals are also
adept at avoiding stressful situations and at recruiting so-
cial support that enables them to cope with stress. By
contrast, reactive animals that are raised by reactive
mothers are socially incompetent when placed in the
larger living group at 6 months of age and are particularly
vulnerable to stress.
Natural Experiments with Human Beings
Studies of children with genetic backgrounds that differ
from those of their nurturing families provide a means of
simultaneously evaluating the impacts of heredity and ex-
perience on child development (H. Z. Ho, 1987; Plomin,
1990; Plomin & DeFries, 1985). In (ideal) natural experi-
ments of adoption, one child shares genes but not en-
vironment with biological parents, and another child
shares environment but not genes with adoptive parents.
In France, children were located who had been given up in
infancy by their low-SES parents and adopted by upper-
middle-SES parents. These children all had biological
siblings or half-siblings who remained with their biologi-
cal mother and were reared by her in impoverished cir-
cumstances. No selective factors differentiated the two
groups. When tested in middle childhood, the adopted
childrens IQs averaged significantly higher than those of
their natural siblings, and children who remained with
their biological mother were more likely to exhibit fail-
ures in school performance (Duyme, Dumaret, & Stanis-
Parenting Ef fects and Their Multicausal Context 913
law, 1999; Schiff, Duyme, Dumaret, & Tomkiewicz,
1982). Similarly, the Colorado Adoption Project included
assessments of rates of communicative development in
groups of children either born or adopted into intact fami-
lies. The language competencies of children correlated
with their biological mothers verbal intelligence even
though they had not seen their mother since birth. How-
ever, adoptive mothers parenting activities, especially
imitating their childrens vocalizations and vocalizing
contingently to their childrens vocalizations, also pre-
dicted child language competencies (Hardy-Brown, 1983;
Hardy-Brown & Plomin, 1985; Hardy-Brown, Plomin, &
DeFries, 1981). These results point to roles for both genet-
ics and parenting in child development.
Parenting Interventions
Forgatch (1991) advocated the interpretation of inter-
vention trials as experimental manipulations that test
theoretical models of parenting. In interventions to im-
prove the behavioral-training skills of parents of non-
compliant children, Forehand and colleagues (Forehand
& King, 1977; Forehand, Wells, & Griest, 1980) demon-
strated both improvements in parental behavior and
behavioral changes in children, as well as increased
parental perceptions of improved child behavior and de-
creased parental depression. Similarly, Belsky, Goode,
and Most (1980) found that interventions to increase
mothers didactic interactions with their young children
during play resulted in significantly higher exploratory
play among children compared to a no-treatment control
group. Van den Boom (1989, 1994) demonstrated that
an intervention to train lower-class mothers to respond
sensitively to their children modified both their negative
responses to child irritability and reduced the extent of
avoidant attachment in distress-prone children. Dishion,
Patterson, and Kavanagh (1992) showed that the reduc-
tion of parent-to-child coercive behavior, brought about
by a parent-training intervention with a randomly as-
signed experimental group, produced declining levels of
antisocial behavior in aggressive children. P. A. Cowan,
Cowan, Ablow, Johnson, and Measelle (2005) observed
that parents participation in classes on effective par-
enting just prior to their childrens kindergarten entry
resulted in better school adjustment and higher aca-
demic achievement for children in kindergarten and first
grade, compared to the children of parents who attended
a comparable series of discussion groups without the
effective-parenting emphasis. The relative advantage for
the children of intervention-group parents persisted
through age 10, a period of 6 years.
Studies that randomly assign families to treatment
or control groups and that intervene with the parents
but do not simultaneously treat the children are rare,
but several have shown that, when treatment is able
to change parental behavior toward children in speci-
fied ways, the behavior of children changes corre-
spondingly. Such experimental studies document that
changes in parenting predict changes in childrens
school adjustment (Forgatch & DeGarmo, 1999), ag-
gressive behavior (Patterson, Dishion, & Chamberlain,
1993), behavior management (Webster-Stratton, 1990),
and attachment (P. A. Cowan et al., 1998; Heinicke,
Rineman, Ponce, & Guthrie, 2001).
With these sources of data in mind, it is surprising
that some critics contend that there is still little com-
pelling evidence that parents influence the psychologi-
cal functioning of children or adolescents but, rather,
that heredity and peers do so. It is illogical and nonsci-
entific to assert the preeminence of one cause over
another when each in its own way contributes to an ef-
fect. The enterprise is really to understand how these
several forces work in concert to shape the developing
individual. The following discussion cumulates over
the hard-won knowledge of several critiques (see
Collins, Maccoby, Steinberg, Hetherington, & Born-
stein, 2000; R. M. Lerner et al., 2002; Maccoby, 2000;
Vandell, 2000).
The arguments for genetic and social influences on
child development complement our understanding of
parenting and the effects of parenting.
Behavior Genetics
Behavior genetics seeks to understand biological sources
of variation in human characteristics. By studying indi-
viduals of varying genetic relatedness (identical and fra-
ternal twins, biological and adopted siblings who live or
do not live in the same households), behavioral geneti-
cists attempt to estimate the amount of variation (the
heritability; h
2
) in characteristics explained by genetic
factors. They assume that sources of variation in a char-
acteristic can be separated into independent genetic (G)
and environmental (E) components that together (with
error variance) add to l00% of the variance in a charac-
teristic. (Note: E is often not directly measured, but es-
timated as the residual variance not accounted for by G;
Caspi, Taylor, Moffitt, & Plomin, 2000.) However, G
and E do not play a zero-sum game (Block, 1995; Feld-
man & Lewontin, 1975; Gottlieb, 1995; Rose, 1995;
Turkheimer, 1998).
914 Parenting Science and Practice
Furthermore, some behavioral genetic research
contends that (a) genetic endowment accounts for child
characteristics better than socialization; ( b) children
with different genetic predispositions elicit different re-
actions from their parents; and (c) nonshared environ-
ments (conceptualized as experiences in and out of the
family that result in differences among individuals) play
a greater part in child development than shared factors
(such as parenting). However, a full consideration of this
literature reveals limits on its claims.
1. Heritability can be high at the same time environmen-
tal forces are at work. Some environmental factors
affect a group or population without altering the
rank order of individuals within the group. The pre-
vailing ecological perspective on human development
stresses the interactive and synergistic, rather than
additive and competitive, nature of the links between
the family and other influences (Collins et al., 2000,
p. 227). Everything that human beings are or do is a
joint function of both their genes and their life experi-
ences (Elman et al., 1996).
2. Correlations between child characteristics and par-
enting reflect genetic linkages between parent and
child characteristics but also bidirectional interactive
processes. Behavior genetics assigns both child and
parent parts of parent-child covariances to the ge-
netic component in the G + E = 100% equation. It
may be that the childs part in parent-child covari-
ance (i.e., evocative effects) is genetic, but assigning
the parent contribution to genetics is questionable
(Maccoby, 2000). Behavior genetics ignores parent-
child reciprocal influences. In a developing and un-
folding relationship such as the one between a parent
and a child, the child influences the parent and the
parent influences the child. Parenting is influenced
by child characteristics, but parents contribute to
child characteristics as well.
3. Behavior genetic designs show parenting effects.
Horn (1983) reported that the mean IQ of adopted
children was the same as the mean IQ of their adop-
tive parents, and significantly higher than the mean
IQ of their biological parents. This effect presum-
ably follows from how adoptive parents caregive.
OConnor, Deater-Deckard, Fulker, Rutter, and
Plomin (1998) identified two groups of adoptees:
one at genetic risk for antisocial behavior (i.e., a his-
tory of antisocial behavior in the biological mother)
and the other not at risk. At several points during the
adoptees childhood, they assessed both the chil-
drens characteristics and the adoptive parents
child-rearing methods. Children carrying a genetic
risk for antisocial behavior were more likely to re-
ceive negative socialization inputs from their adop-
tive parents, but parental negative behavior made an
independent contribution to childrens externaliz-
ing, over and above the childrens genetic predispo-
sitions. Neiss and Rowe (2000) found that parents
education was significantly (if modestly) associated
with adopted adolescents verbal IQ.
4. Behavior genetics assumes that parenting is a shared
experience for siblings, and because shared environ-
ment effects have sometimes proven to be small, par-
enting effects must be small. However, parents do not
behave toward all their children in the same way, par-
enting is not perceived by all children in the same way,
and parenting does not affect all children in the same
way. Twin data support the hypothesis that family
environments make a substantial contribution to the
childs development (Plomin, 1994; Reiss, 1997).
Nonshared environmental effects refer to the influ-
ence of events specific to an individuals life, such as
illness or particular friends, which are not shared
by other family members. Behavioral geneticists have
offered two suggestions to account for individual
variation among siblings. The first is within-family
environmental differences (Dunn & Plomin, 1990;
Hoffman, 1991), and the second is differential experi-
ence outside the home (J. R. Harris, 1995, 1998; Rowe,
1994). To the extent that siblings perceive differential
parental treatment, they experience different environ-
ments, which increases the likelihood that they also
develop differently in important aspects of intellect
and personality compounding genetic dispositions.
Genes contribute to making siblings alike, but (as we
all recognize) siblings are normally very different
from one another, and it is widely held that siblings
different experiences (their nonshared environ-
ments) in growing up contribute to making them dis-
tinctive individuals (Dunn & Plomin, 1990; Plomin &
Daniels, 1987). Even within the same family and home
setting, parents (and other factors) help to create
distinctive and effective environments for their differ-
ent children (Stoolmiller, 1999; Turkheimer & Wal-
dron, 2000).
5. Heritability estimates are themselves often indeter-
minate and variable:
Parenting Ef fects and Their Multicausal Context 915
The genetic contribution might be greater for
some human attributes (intellect) than for others
(religion).
Estimates of the size of the genetic contribution
vary depending on the source of information
for measuring a trait. Cadoret, Leve, and Devor
(1997) reported a range of heritability coefficients
for aggressive behavior from .00 for observational
studies to .70 for parent-report measures. In a
meta-analysis of 24 twin and adoption studies,
Miles and Carey (1997) reported substantially
greater h
2
values based on parent reports than for
those based on adolescent self-reports.
Genes function differently in different en-
vironments.
Meta-analyses show that heredity rarely accounts
for as much as 50% of the variation among indi-
viduals in a particular population (McCartney,
Harris, & Bernieri, 1990).
Estimates derived from twin studies might over-
estimate the genetic contribution because identi-
cal twins have more similar environments than do
with same-sex fraternal twins.
6. The child outcomes that are the focus of most heri-
tability studies are intelligence and personality, but
contemporary parenting studies are concerned with a
much broader range of questions. The case for
parental influence may be great, for example, for as-
pects of childrens learned behavior. Childrens fruit
and vegetable consumption is shaped not just by chil-
drens taste preferences, but also by their mothers
nutritional knowledge, her attitudes about the health
benefits of eating more produce, and by her own con-
sumption of fruit and vegetables (Galloway, Fiorito,
Lee, & Birch, 2005).
7. Parents concerns are not only the final product of
their parenting. They live with their children and
are involved in quotidian processes of parenting
and cope with a constantly changing set of child-
rearing challenges. The upbringing of children is also
highly emotional for both parents and children
(Pomerantz, Wang, & Ng, 2005). These concerns of
parenting are not addressed by behavioral genetics or
other approaches to parenting that look only at child
outcomes.
8. In behavior genetic twin and adoption studies,
degree of biological relatedness between individu-
als, not specific markers of genetically linked char-
acteristics in the two individuals, is often the pri-
mary focus, and variations in environments are in-
frequently assessed.
Group Socialization Theory
Many researchers have observed that peers exert a
strong environmental influence on individual psycholog-
ical functioning in children.
Lewin (1947) theorized that we change when we par-
ticipate in peer group interaction, and J. R. Harris (1995,
1998) used this view as a platform from which to assert
that experience outside the home, and especially within
the peer group, constitutes the major environmental
source of influence on development in children. Accord-
ing to J. R. Harris (1995, p. 463), group socialization af-
fects childrens behavior, language, cognitions, emotions,
and self-esteem, whereas dyadic relationships with par-
ents, teachers, and mentors have minimal effects on these
psychological characteristics or functioning in adulthood.
However, several counterarguments to this radical propo-
sition mitigate its claims:
1. Parents and peers actually exert joint influences on
the developing child (Brown, Mounts, Lamborn, &
Steinberg, 1993; Cairns & Cairns, 1994; Dishion,
Patterson, Stoolmiller, & Skinner, 1991; Fuligni &
Eccles, 1993; Mounts & Steinberg, 1995).
2. The proclivity in individuals to select like-minded
peers (Berndt, 1999; Berndt, Hawkins, & Jiao, 1999)
might account for observed similarities between chil-
dren and their friends across a wide array of vari-
ables, including school achievement (Epstein, 1983),
aggression (Cairns, Cairns, Neckerman, Gest, &
Gariepy, 1988), internalized distress (Hogue &
Steinberg, 1995), and drug use (Kandel, 1978). Chil-
dren are not randomly assigned to peer groups;
rather, parents and parent-child relationships influ-
ence which peers children select.
3. Group socialization may apply to some everyday be-
haviors and transient attitudes but not to enduring
personality traits or values (Brown, 1990).
4. Children vary in their susceptibility to peer influ-
ence, and parenting might be a major source of their
differential susceptibility. Of course, infants and
very young children are hardly exposed to meaning-
ful peer influence.
Social relationship theory posits that multiple rela-
tionships are important to children because they meet
916 Parenting Science and Practice
different developmental needs (Howes, Hamilton, &
Phillipsen, 1998; Ladd, Kochenderfer, &Coleman, 1997;
MacKinnon-Lewis, Starnes, Volling, & Johnson, 1997;
Vandell & Wilson, 1987; Vondra, Shaw, Swearingen,
Cohen, & Owens, 1999; Wentzel, 1998). Parents may
serve as a source of love, affection, security, protection,
advice, and limit setting. Siblings may offer opportuni-
ties related to social understanding, conflict manage-
ment, and differential status. Peer friendships provide
mutual commitment, support, and trust. Teachers and
nonparental caregivers of young children often act simi-
larly to parents, whereas teachers of older children may
be influential for their expertise and access to opportu-
nity. In the end, J. R. Harris (1995) conceded:
It is important to note that [group socialization theory]
does not imply that children can get along without parents.
Children are emotionally attached to their parents (and
vice versa), are dependent on them for protection and
care, and learn skills within the home that may prove use-
ful outside of it; these facts are not questioned. (p. 461)
In short, many individuals in childrens lives influence
their development, parents prominently included.
Summary
Even parentings most strident critics acknowledge that
parents serve important functions in childrens lives:
Parents are the most important part of the childs envi-
ronment and can determine, to a large extent, how the
child turns out (J. R. Harris, 1998, p. 15). Of course,
biological mothers and fathers contribute directly to the
nature and development of their children by passing on
heritable characteristics (Plomin, 1999). At the same
time, all prominent theories of development put experi-
ence in the world as either the principal source of indi-
vidual growth or as a major contributing component
(R. M. Lerner, Theokas, & Bobek, 2005; Wachs, 2000).
Thus, evidence for heritability effects and peer influ-
ences neither negates nor diminishes equally compelling
evidence for effects of parenting.
Parenting research today is guided by a developmen-
tal contextual perspective. The size of reported parent-
ing effects reflects the fact that parenting is part of a
complex developmental system that includes childrens
own capacities and proclivities, childrens and parents
multiple social relationships (with siblings, friends,
peers, teachers, and neighbors), and multiple develop-
mental contexts ( homes, schools, neighborhoods, so-
cioeconomic class, and culture). Within complex devel-
opmental systems like the parent-child, it is unlikely
that any single factor will account for even substantial
amounts of variation. Parenting effects are conditional
and not absolute (i.e., true for all children under all con-
ditions). Finally, given the variance related to the num-
ber of independent variables, more complex theories
that incorporate larger numbers of variables can be ex-
pected to account for effects better than simpler theo-
ries with fewer variables. Multiple sources of shared
and nonshared environmental influences affect the
childs life.
PARENTINGCOGNITIONS ANDPRACTICES
What defines parenting? What about parenting affects
children? Parenting is instantiated in cognitions and
practices. Parenting is also multidimensional, modular,
and specific (see Bornstein, 1989a, 2002b), supporting
empirical focus on multiple specific cognitions and
practices (De Wolff & van IJzendoor n, 1997; Mac-
Donald, 1992; Tamis-LeMonda, Chen, & Bornstein,
1998). Furthermore, the child-rearing cognitions and
practices of ones own group may seem natural but
may actually be rather unusual when compared with
those of other groups.
Parenting Cognitions
When their children are only 1 month of age, 99% of
mothers believe that their babies can express interest,
95% joy, 84% anger, 75% surprise, 58% fear, and 34%
sadness (Johnson, Emde, Pannabecker, Stenberg, &
Davis, 1982). These judgments may reflect childrens
expressive capacities, or contextual cues, or mothers
subjective inferences. In response to specific questions,
mothers describe childrens vocal and facial expres-
sions, along with their gestures and arm movements, as
the bases of their judgments (H. Papou sek & Papou sek,
2002). Because mothers commonly respond differently
to different emotional messages they perceive in their
children, they have frequent opportunities to have their
inferences fine-tuned or corrected depending on how
their children respond in turn. There is therefore good
reason to invest confidence in maternal cognitions.
Parenting cognitions include their goals, attitudes,
expectations, perceptions, attributions, and actual
Parenting Cognitions and Practices 917
knowledge of child rearing and child development
(Goodnow, 2002; Holden & Buck, 2002; Sigel &
McGillicuddy-De Lisi, 2002). Parenting cognitions are
generally believed to serve many functions. They af-
fect parents sense of self, mediate the effectiveness of
parenting, and help to organize parenting (Darling &
Steinberg, 1993; Dix & Grusec, 1985; Goodnow &
Collins, 1990; Harkness & Super, 1996; S. G. Miller,
1988; Murphy, 1992; K. H. Rubin & Mills, 1992; Sigel
& McGillicuddy-De Lisi, 2002). Cognitions form a
framework from which parents perceive and interpret
their childrens behaviors. In addition, many theorists
reason that because parents cognitions generate and
shape their practices, they in turn shape childrens de-
velopment (Conrad et al., 1992; Darling & Steinberg,
1993; Goodnow, 2002; Holden & Buck, 2002; Hunt &
Paraskevopoulos, 1980; Wachs & Camli, 1991). Unfor-
tunately, fewer than a handful of studies have examined
the three-term relation among parenting cognitions,
parenting practices, and child development completely,
although those that have tend to support expected path-
ways (McGillicuddy-De Lisi, 1982; Seefeldt, Denton,
Galper, & Younoszai, 1999). Benasich and Brooks-
Gunn (1996), for example, using the prospective longi-
tudinal study data set of a low-birthweight preterm
cohort from the multisite Infant Health and Develop-
ment Program, found that maternal knowledge of child
development and child rearing conditioned the quality
and structure of the home environment mothers pro-
vided, which in turn affected child cognitive and be-
havioral outcomes.
How parents see themselves vis--vis children gener-
ally can lead to their expressing one or another kind of
affect, thinking, or behavior in child rearing. According
to the Zero-to-Three (1997) survey, for example, 90% of
new parents in the United States have confidence in
their abilities and think of themselves generally as good
parents. Mothers who feel efficacious and competent in
their role as parents tend to be more responsive, more
empathic, and less punitive and have more appropriate
developmental expectations (East & Felice, 1996;
Parks & Smeriglio, 1986; Schellenbach, Whitman, &
Borkowski, 1992). How parents construe childhood in
general functions in the same way: Parents who believe
that they can or cannot affect childrens characteristics
modify their parenting accordingly. Zero-to-Three also
found that one in four parents in America thinks that a
baby is born with a certain level of intelligence that can-
not be increased or decreased by how parents interact
with the baby. Mothers who feel effective vis--vis their
children are motivated to engage in further interactions,
which in turn provide them with additional opportuni-
ties to understand and interact positively and appropri-
ately with their children (Teti, OConnell, & Reiner,
1996). Last, how parents see their own children has its
specific consequences. Mothers who regard their child
as being difficult, for example, are less likely to pay at-
tention or respond to their childs overtures. Their inat-
tentiveness and nonresponsiveness can then foster
temperamental difficulties and cognitive shortcomings
(Putnam, Sanson, & Rothbart, 2002). In this way, par-
ents cognitions foster further temperamental problems
because they can lead parents to treat children more
negatively.
Although it is arguably the case that all parents seek
some of the same accomplishments and achievements for
their children, notably social adjustment, educational
achievement, and economic security, they may do so in
substantially different ways. Considerable attention in
the parenting literature has focused on variation in par-
ents cognitions with SES, ethnicity, and culture (see
Bornstein & Bradley, 2003; Harwood, Handwerker,
Schoelmerich, & Leyendecker, 2001; Kohn, 1963, 1969,
1979; Schulze, Harwood, Schoelmerich, & Leyendecker,
2002). Beliefs are like possessions (Abelson, 1986,
p. 223), and parents cling to theirs beliefs about parent-
ing and children equally dearly.
A Taxonomy of Parenting Cognitions
Parents goals for their own parenting and for their
children arise, in part, out of societys expectations of
its adult members (LeVine, 2003). For example, many
Western societies encourage independence, self-
reliance, and individual achievement among their chil-
dren, whereas many Asian and Latin cultures encourage
interdependence, cooperation, and collaboration (Trian-
dis, 1995). These general values are associated with dif-
ferences in the socialization goals of parents (Harwood,
1992; Ogbu, 1981). According to D. Y. F. Ho (1994), for
example, Confucian ethics emphasize obligation to oth-
ers rather than individual rights and provide a founda-
tion for parent-child relationships through the notion of
filial piety. Among such filial precepts are obeying,
honoring, and providing for the material and mental
well-being of ones parents, performing the ceremonial
duties of ancestral worship, taking care to avoid harm to
ones body, ensuring the continuity of the family line,
and in general conducting oneself so as to bring honor
918 Parenting Science and Practice
and not disgrace to the family name. These underlying
values are reflected in parents goals for what it means
to be a good parent and what constitutes a good or vir-
tuous child.
Attitudes are a component of social cognition that
refer to a tendency, internal state, or explicit evaluation
of some object (Eagly, 1992). Some children are rela-
tively relaxed when confronted with an unfamiliar situa-
tion and show little indication of distress. Other
children react to novel objects and situations with anxi-
ety and try to remain close to their mother. They do not
readily explore novel objects or easily interact with un-
familiar people. These actions indicate behavioral inhi-
bition. X. Chen et al. (1998) found cultural differences
in mothers attitudes toward such behavioral inhibition
in children. Chinese mothers, who traditionally value
mutual interdependence, view behavioral inhibition in
toddlers as a positive trait. Behavior inhibition was pos-
itively associated with maternal acceptance of the child
and maternal belief in encouraging childrens achieve-
ment. In contrast, for Canadian parents of European ori-
gin, who traditionally hold a more individualistic
orientation, behavioral inhibition is negatively associ-
ated with maternal acceptance and encouragement of
childrens achievement. Among Chinese families, chil-
dren who displayed higher levels of behavioral inhibi-
tion had a mother who was less likely to believe that
physical punishment is the best way to discipline the
child and who was less likely to feel angry toward the
child. However, maternal punishment orientation was
positively correlated with behavioral inhibition in Cana-
dian families; mothers whose children displayed higher
levels of behavioral inhibition were more likely to be-
lieve that physical punishment was the best discipline
strategy. In short, behavioral inhibition in children was
associated with positive attitudes in Chinese mothers
and negative attitudes in Canadian mothers.
Expectations about developmental norms and mile-
stoneswhen a child is expected to achieve a particular
developmental skillaffect parents appraisals of their
childs development and of child development per se.
Adult caregiversparents, teachers, or othersnor-
mally harbor ideas about when children should be capa-
ble of certain achievements (Becker & Hall, 1989), and
these ideas can themselves affect development. For ex-
ample, Hopkins and Westra (1989, 1990) surveyed En-
glish, Jamaican, and Indian mothers living in the same
city and found that Jamaican mothers expected their
children to sit and to walk earlier, whereas Indian moth-
ers expected their children to crawl later. In each case,
childrens actual attainment of developmental milestones
accorded with their mothers expectations. Higher-SES
mothers generally give earlier age estimates for chil-
drens attainment of developmental milestones than
lower-SES mothers (Mansbach & Greenbaum, 1999; von
der Lippe, 1999). When Filipino mothers of preschool-
age children were asked to estimate the age at which
their child would acquire a variety of cognitive, psy-
chosocial, and perceptual-motor skills (Williams,
Williams, Lopez, & Tayko, 2000), mothers with higher
educational attainment had earlier expectations for chil-
drens cognitive and psychosocial development (e.g.,
emotional maturity, independence).
Especially salient self-perceptions of parenting have
to do with parents feelings of competence in the role of
caregiver, satisfaction gained from caregiving relation-
ships, investment in caregiving, and ability to balance
caregiving with other social roles. These distinctive
self-perceptions function in child rearing and child de-
velopment in unique ways. Most is known about parent-
ing competence (Bornstein, Hendricks, et al., 2003; Teti
& Candelaria, 2002). Functionally, perceptions of com-
petence in parenting are associated with parents use of
effective child-rearing strategies (Johnston & Mash,
1989; Teti & Gelfand, 1991). Self-efficacy theory posits
that adults who evaluate themselves as competent, who
know what they can do, and who understand the likely
effects of their actions will, as parents, more likely act
as constructive partners in their childrens development
(Bandura, 1986, 1989; Coleman & Karraker, 1998;
Conrad et al., 1992; King & Elder, 1998). Feelings of
competence relate to behavioral choice and help to de-
termine how much time, effort, and energy to expend in
parenting. Eccles and Harold (1996) reported that par-
ents confidence in their ability to influence their chil-
drens academic performance and school achievement
was associated with parents school involvement and
predicted parents helping with childrens academic in-
terests (see, too, Hoover-Dempsey & Sandler, 1997).
Investment in, involvement with, and commitment to
children is integral to child rearing; indeed, Baumrind
and Thompson (2002, p. 3) defined ethical parenting
above all [as] requiring of parents enduring investment
and commitment throughout their childrens long period
of dependency. High-investment parents believe that
they can meet their childrens needs better than other
adults; they hold higher maturity expectations, are more
responsive, and view their children more positively
Parenting Cognitions and Practices 919
(Greenberger & Goldberg, 1989). In turn, parental in-
volvement relates to developmental outcomes in children
(Bogenschneider, 1997; E. V. Clark, 1983; Eccles &
Harold, 1996). Parental investment in childrens lives
and parental responsibility for childrens care ensure
that children receive the preventive medical attention,
physical activity, and proper nutrition they require (Cox
& Harter, 2003).
How individuals balance their roles in life, such as
parent, spouse, and employee, reflects on their effec-
tiveness in those diverse roles (Perry-Jenkins, Repetti,
& Crouter, 2000). People who maintain greater balance
score lower on measures of role strain and depression
and higher on measures of self-esteem and other indica-
tors of well-being (Marks & MacDermid, 1996). J. V.
Lerner and Galambos (1985, 1986) found that mothers
role balance had more of an impact on child develop-
ment than did mothers work status per se. Mothers
who are unhappy with their roles are more rejecting of
their children (Stuckey, McGhee, & Bell, 1982; Yarrow,
Scott, DeLeeuw, & Heinig, 1962). Thus, research sup-
ports a positive association between the balance struck
by employed mothers and their parenting behaviors
(Harrell & Ridley, 1975; Stuckey et al., 1982).
In certain circumstances, parents will tend to believe
their children are behaving intentionally in one or an-
other way, when the childs behavior may in fact be de-
velopmentally typical (K. H. Rubin & Mills, 1992).
Thus, parents attributions about their children (often
vis--vis developmental norms) help to shape parents
caregiving practices, which in turn affect childrens
lives. Numerous studies have documented that Asian
American parents as compared to European American
parents attribute the effort the child directs toward
school work as most important contributor to the childs
academic success (Hess, Chang, & McDevitt, 1987; Ok-
agaki & Sternberg, 1993; Stevenson & Lee, 1990). Cul-
tural variation also characterizes parents attributions
about successful parenting. For example, mothers from
Argentina, Belgium, Italy, Israel, Japan, and the United
States were asked if being able to successfully comfort
their child when the child cries was due to their parent-
ing ability (e.g., I am good at this.), effort (e.g., I
have tried hard.), mood (e.g., I am in a good mood.),
task difficulty (e.g., This is easy to do.), or a child
characteristic (e.g., My child makes this easy to do.).
Among the culturally differentiated patterns of findings
that emerged, Japanese mothers were less likely than
mothers from all other nations to attribute success to
their own ability and more likely to indicate that, when
they were successful, it was because of the childs be-
havior (Bornstein et al., 1992).
Parenting knowledge encompasses understanding how
to care for children, how children develop, and the di-
verse roles parents play in childrens lives. Studies of
parents knowledge of child rearing and child develop-
ment investigate what kinds of knowledge parents have,
how accurate their knowledge is, how parents of differ-
ent social statuses, ethnicities, or cultures vary in their
knowledge, where parents acquire their knowledge, and
what factors are related to differences in knowledge.
The general state of knowledge that parents possess con-
stitutes a frame of reference from which they interpret
their childrens behaviors, and knowledge about chil-
drens development affects parents everyday decisions
about their childrens care and upbringing (Conrad,
Gross, Fogg, & Ruchala, 1992; Holden & Buck, 2002;
S. G. Miller, 1988; Murphy, 1992). Knowledgeable par-
ents have more realistic expectations and are more
likely to behave in developmentally appropriate ways
with their children (Grusec & Goodnow, 1994), whereas
parents who harbor unrealistic developmental expecta-
tions that are not informed by accurate knowledge
experience greater stress as a result of mismatches be-
tween expectations and actual child behaviors (Teti &
Gelfand, 1991).
Parents knowledge of childrens health and safety is
measured in terms of awareness of health care, the iden-
tification and treatment of illnesses, and accident pre-
vention. These cognitions guide parents decisions about
how to maintain child health and when to seek care if
children manifest symptoms (Hickson & Clayton, 2002;
Melamed, 2002). For example, sudden infant death syn-
drome (SIDS) is the leading cause of reported neonatal
deaths in the United States (C. A. Miller, 1993), and
sleeping prone or on too soft bedding that may cover the
childs mouth and nose increases the likelihood of
asphyxiation (Scheers, Rutherford, & Kemp, 2003). Yet
approximately 20% of infants ages 1 to 3 months are
still placed on their stomachs during sleep (Gibson,
Dembofsky, Rubin, & Greenspan, 2000).
Parenting knowledge includes understanding the var-
ious approaches appropriate to fulfilling the physical
and biological and socioemotional and cognitive needs
of children as they develop (Goodnow & Collins, 1990).
Proper parenting practices follow knowledge of princi-
ples related to early experience, bidirectionality of
social influences, atypical development, individual
920 Parenting Science and Practice
differences, instrumental beliefs, management of the
child through tuition or modeling, and the responsibili-
ties of being a parent.
Extant research points to definite individual varia-
tion in parenting knowledge (Young, 1991; Zero-to-
Three, 1997). Parenting researchers have also identified
multiple antecedents of parenting knowledge (Belsky,
Youngblade, & Pensky, 1989; Cochran, 1993; Goodnow
& Collins 1990; MacPhee, 1981). Clarke-Stewart
(1998), for example, reported that books and magazine
articles were a popular source of advice about general
child development, and their most frequent users were
first-time and middle-class parents (Deutsch et al.,
1988). Friends and relatives constitute a major base of
information for younger parents with little child-rearing
experience (Belsky et al., 1989). Pediatricians are a re-
source for all social classes and ages of parent, but they
appear to be turned to most often for advice about cur-
rent or specific problems (Hickson & Clayton, 2002).
Mothers own knowledge tends to relate to their formal,
objective experienceexposure to books and manuals,
pediatricians, and courses about child rearingwhereas
previous informal or subjective experience with chil-
dren (through babysitting or professional services alone)
has been found to correlate not at all or negatively with
parenting knowledge (Frankel & Roer-Bornstein, 1982;
MacPhee, 1981).
Of course, differences in parents cognitions may re-
flect differences in childrens prior performance (En-
twisle & Hayduk, 1988; Seginer, 1983). A hierarchical
regression in which the previous years grades and par-
ents perceptions of their childs ability were used to
partial out differences in actual and perceived school
performance still resulted in group differences in par-
ents expectations for their childs school attainment.
This finding supports the hypothesis that differences in
parental cognitions are not simply a response to chil-
drens prior achievements, but reflect differences in
broader cultural values.
Parenting Practices
In the 1983 Handbook, Maccoby and Martin reasoned
that parenting style could be assessed along two separate
broad dimensions, responsiveness (child-centeredness
and warmth) and demandingness (control), which they
combined to produce four parenting types: authoritative,
authoritarian, permissive, and disengaged. Baumrinds
(1967, 1978, 1991) categories of parenting involve just
such an emphasis on style and content. She hypothesized
that these practices contribute differentially to child
identity formation and cognitive and moral development.
Her findings show that some parenting practices facili-
tate growth (social competency), whereas others do not.
An authoritative style combines high levels of warmth
with moderate to high levels of control. In middle-class
European American children, it is associated with
achievement of social competence and overall better
adaptation. Authoritarian parenting, by contrast, con-
tains high levels of control but little warmth or respon-
siveness to childrens needs, and it is generally associated
with poorer developmental outcomes. In different social
classes or ethnic groups, however, different outcome pat-
terns appear to obtain. For example, adolescents from Eu-
ropean American and Latin American authoritative
homes perform well academically, and better than those
coming from nonauthoritative households. However,
school performance is similar for authoritatively and for
nonauthoritatively reared Asian Americans and African
Americans (Dornbusch, Ritter, Leiderman, Roberts, &
Fraleigh, 1987).
A small number of domains of parenting practices
has been identified as a common core of parental care
(Bornstein, 1989a, 2002b; LeVine, 1988; for other com-
ponential systems, see Bradley & Caldwell, 1995). They
have also been studied for their variation, stability, con-
tinuity, and covariation, as well as for their influences
on child development.
A Taxonomy of Parenting Practices
In infrahuman primates, the majority of maternal be-
haviors consist of biologically requisite feeding, groom-
ing, protection, and the like (Bard, 2002; Rheingold,
1963). Some related acts focus on examining offspring
and assessing and monitoring their behavioral and phys-
ical state. Perhaps these mothers also encourage motor
development with physical exercise. Other residual ac-
tivities among higher primate parents include playing
with offspring.
The contents of human parent-child interactions are
more dynamic, varied, and discretionary. Moreover,
like cognitions, parenting practices tend to be multidi-
mensional, modular, and specific. Several categories of
human parental caregiving can be identified: They
are nurturant, physical, social, didactic, verbal, and ma-
terial. Together, these modes are perhaps universal
Parenting Cognitions and Practices 921
among human beings in different societies, even if their
instantiation or emphases (in terms of frequency or du-
ration) vary across groups. These categories capture the
most prominent of human parents activities with chil-
dren. For their part, human children are reared in, in-
fluenced by, and adapt to a social and physical ecology
commonly characterized by this parenting taxonomy
and its elements.
When parents nurture, they meet the biological, phys-
ical, and health requirements of their offspring. From a
biological evolutionary stance, survival and reproduction
are the ultimate criteria of adaptation. After reproduc-
tion, survival is achieved through protection of the child
and provision of nourishment, but also through processes
that involve sharing information and maintaining social
order (Wilson, 1975). Child mortality is a perennial par-
enting concern, and parents are centrally responsible for
promoting childrens wellness and preventing their ill-
ness fromthe moment of conception, or even earlier. Par-
ents in virtually all higher species nurture their young,
providing sustenance, protection, supervision, groom-
ing, and the like. Parents shield children from risks and
stressors. Nurturance is a prerequisite for childrens sur-
vival and well-being; seeing a childs survival to repro-
ductive age enhances parents probability of passing on
their genes (Bjorklund et al., 2002).
Parents promote childrens physical development, that
is their gross and fine motor skills. Parents foster their
childrens physical growth in many direct and indirect
ways. Parents physically move and manipulate babies to
reach or step, and they set goals and place rewards for
children to achieve. In turn, child growth and matura-
tion affect the ways parents treat a child. How parents
organize the physical environment and interact with and
speak to children who vary in their physical abilities dif-
fer substantially (Campos et al., 2000; Campos, Ker-
moian, Witherington, & Chen, 1997). Parents talk to the
walking as opposed to the crawling toddler differently,
just as they interact with the pubertal adolescent differ-
ently from the prepubertal.
Parenting in the social domain includes the variety of
visual, verbal, affective, and physical behaviors parents
deploy in engaging children in loving interpersonal ex-
changes. Through positive feedback, openness and nego-
tiation, listening, and emotional closeness, parents make
their children feel valued, accepted, and approved of.
Social caregiving includes all the ways parents help and
direct children to regulate their own affect and emotions
and influence the communicative styles and interper-
sonal repertoires that children use to form meaningful
and sustained relationships with others. Early in life,
dyadic organization is a foundation for an intricate sys-
tem of communication and interpersonal interaction.
Later in childhood, parents mediate and monitor their
childrens social relationships with others, such as peers
(Ladd & Pettit, 2002; K. H. Rubin, Bukowski, & Parker,
1998; Stattin & Kerr, 2000).
Parenting also consists of a variety of didactic strate-
gies used to stimulate children to engage and understand
the wider natural and designed environments. Didactics
organize the young childs attention to properties, ob-
jects, or events in the surroundings; introduce, mediate,
and interpret the external world; describe and demon-
strate; as well as provoke or provide children with oppor-
tunities to observe, to imitate, and to learn. Education is
a vital and fundamental human parenting function.
Language in parenting is fundamental to child devel-
opment and to the parent-child bond in itself. The moti-
vation to acquire language is social and is born in
interaction, usually with parents (Bloom, 1998). Lan-
guage also cross-cuts the foregoing domains, as speech
to children supports and enriches all domains of child
development (Hoff, 2003).
Finally, caregiving includes those ways in which par-
ents materially provision and organize the childs world,
especially the home and local environments (Wachs,
2000). Parents influence their children not only by what
they do but also by the role they play in structuring the
physical and social surround. Adults are responsible for
the number, variety, and composition of inanimate ob-
jects (toys, books, tools) available to the child, the level
of ambient stimulation, the situations and locales chil-
dren find themselves in, the limits on their physical
freedom, and the overall physical dimensions of chil-
drens experiences. The amount of time children spend
interacting with their inanimate surroundings rivals or
exceeds the time children spend in direct social inter-
action with parents or others.
Together, these categories encompass virtually all of
parents important activities with their children. Al-
though these modes of caregiving are conceptually and
operationally distinct, in practice parent-child inter-
action is dynamic, intricate, and multidimensional, and
parents regularly engage in combinations of them. Taken
as a totality, this constellation of parenting practices
constitutes a varied and demanding set of caregiving
922 Parenting Science and Practice
tasks, and adults differ considerably in terms of how
they recognize, esteem, and engage in components of the
caregiving repertoire, as well as in how successful they
are in executing different components. Traditionally,
the mechanisms asserted to convey intergenerational
transmission of beliefs and behaviors amongst human
families include socialization, teaching, and scaffold-
ing, conditioning and reinforcement, and modeling. Ele-
ments of the parenting taxonomy via these means
constitute direct parenting experience effects on chil-
drens development.
Certain characteristics of this parenting taxonomy
merit brief comment:
1. From an evolutionary adaptive view, nurturant and
physical parenting seem compulsory; by contrast, so-
cial, didactic, language, and material elements appear
more discretionary.
2. Nurturant, physical, social, didactic, and verbal par-
enting are active forms of interaction; physical and
material parenting may be active or passive.
3. No one category of parenting is the most prominent
all the time, although any one may best characterize a
given parent-child interaction at a given time.
4. There is initially asymmetry in parent and child con-
tributions to parenting. As childhood progresses, chil-
dren play more active and anticipatory roles in their
upbringing, whereas initial responsibility for nurtur-
ing, promoting physical growth, sociability, teaching,
language, and material provisions in child develop-
ment appear to lie more unambiguously with parents.
Some Prominent Principles of Parenting
Cognitions and Practices
For parent-provided experiences to play a meaningful
role in child development, they need to meet some psy-
chometric criteria and the mechanism of their action
should be explained.
Psychometric Characteristics of Parenting
Cognitions and Practices
Four significant psychometric characteristics help to
further define and distinguish parenting cognitions and
practices. The first has to do with variation among par-
ents. Adults vary among themselves in terms of how
tenaciously they cling to various parenting cognitions
and how often and long they engage in various parenting
practices, even when they come from socioeconomically
homogeneous groups and from the same culture. For ex-
ample, the amounts of language which parents address to
children varies enormously: Some mothers talk to their
infants during as little as 3% and some during as much
as 97% of a naturalistic home observation, even when
the mothers are sampled from a relatively homogeneous
population in terms of education and SES (Bornstein &
Ruddy, 1984). As a consequence, the range in amount of
language that washes over babies is virtually as large as
it can be. This is not to say that there are not also sys-
tematic group differences by SES or culture; there are.
The second psychometric feature of parenting has to
do with developmental stability and the third with con-
tinuity. Stability is consistency in the relative ranks of
individuals in a group over time, and continuity is con-
sistency in the mean level of group performance over
time; the two are independent developmental constructs
(Bornstein, Brown, & Slater, 1996; McCall, 1981).
Summarizing over a variety of samples, time intervals,
and types of home assessments, A. W. Gottfried (1984)
concluded that parent-provided experiences tend to be
stable. Holden and Miller (1999) analyzed the short-
term reliability of attitude questionnaires and behav-
ioral observations of parents (mothers) in 11 studies
and arrived at a median correlation of .59. The fact that
parenting is stable (in some degree) implies that cogni-
tions and practices assessed at one point can be as-
sumed to reflect past as well as future parenting. It also
means that indices of parenting can be related systemat-
ically to concurrent or future parent and child behavior
or performance. Mothers behavior toward their first-
and second-borns when each child was 1 and then 2
years of age shows similar stability (Dunn, Plomin, &
Daniels, 1986; Dunn, Plomin, & Nettles, 1985).
Individual parents do not vary in themselves much
from day to day. Over longer periods, of course, parent-
ing changes, and it certainly does in response to chil-
drens development. The ratio of adult-directed speech
to child-directed speech increases across just the first
postpartum year (Bornstein & Tamis-LeMonda, 1990);
more generally, there is a reduction in time devoted to
parenting activities (Fleming, Ruble, Flett, & Van Wag-
ner, 1990), especially caregiving (Holden & Miller,
1999), as children grow and develop. Parents also adjust
their behaviors relative to both child age and child ca-
pacity or performance (Bellinger, 1980): Sensitive par-
ents tailor their parenting to match their childrens
developmental progress (Adamson & Bakeman, 1984;
Carew, 1980), for example, by providing more didactic
Parenting Cognitions and Practices 923
experiences as children age (Bornstein & Tamis-
LeMonda, 1990; Bornstein et al., 1992; Klein, 1988).
They do so as well to childrens changing capacities.
The mean length of mothers utterances tends to match
the mean length of those of their 12- to 32-month-olds
(McLaughlin, White, McDevitt, & Raskin, 1983).
The fourth characteristic of parenting assesses co-
variation among parenting domains. Despite the wide
range of activities parents naturally engage in with chil-
dren, classical authorities, including notably psychoana-
lysts, personality theorists, ethologists, and attachment
theorists, historically and theoretically conceptualized
maternal behavior as traitlike and more or less unitary,
often denoted as good, good enough, sensitive,
warm, or adequate (Ainsworth et al., 1978; Brody,
1956; Brody & Axelrad, 1978; Hunt, 1979; MacPhee,
Ramey, & Yeates, 1984; Mahler, Pine, & Bergman,
1975; Rothbaum, 1986; Schaefer, 1959; Symonds, 1939;
Wachs & Gruen, 1982; Winnicott, 1957). This view is
that parents package the variety of their beliefs and be-
haviors together into a monolithic set and show the self-
same beliefs or behaviors across domains of interaction,
time, and context. Operationally, that is, a parent who
engages the child in more emotional and interpersonal
exchanges is also the parent who engages the child in
more teaching and learning experiences and does so
across situations. This trait conceptualization projects
parenting as more or less fixed in recurrent patterns, so
that the particular pattern embodied by a parent repre-
sents the essence of that parents child rearing.
However, trait approaches have led to erroneous con-
clusions about the nature of parenting. For example,
Thomas and Chess (1977) observed that trait formula-
tions assume an all-or-nothing character and are cred-
ited with exclusive significance in determining the
childs development; they argued (pp. 7879) that it is
insufficient and inaccurate to characterize a parent in an
overall, diffuse way as rejecting, overprotective, inse-
cure, and so on. Rather, a parents behavior may vary
relative to the situation. Moreover, the trait approach to
parenting does not invite more differentiated develop-
mental questions or allow for bidirectionality, the fact
that different child characteristics may affect or interact
with particular factors of parenting. Yet, the child ef-
fects position recognizes the manifest behavioral adjust-
ments parents make to childrens age and gender,
behavior and appearance, temperament and activity.
Child-rearing practices reflect the interaction of child,
parent, and context. Thus, parent cognition or practice is
a joint product of multiple parent and child characteris-
tics based on a history of shared interactions and trans-
formations over time.
Parents naturally engage their children in a range of
diverse activities, and parents do not only or necessarily
behave in uniform ways. Research has shown that, rather
than employing one broad style, parents are adaptable
(Smetana, 1994). They change their approach to chil-
dren of different ages and temperaments and in response
to situational constraints such as time available or
whether they are in public or in private. In a similar way,
Mischel and Shoda (1995) delineated a unified view of
personality in which there is consistency across contexts
as well as situational specificity (see Fleeson, 2004).
Different domains of parenting are conceptually and
operationally distinct, but in practice parents regularly
engage in combinations of domains. Positions alterna-
tive to the trait conceptualization are that frequently
performed activities are not necessarily or rigidly
linked psychologically, and that individuals vary in the
constellation and pattern of their activities so as to call
into question any monistic organization of parenting.
The different domains of parenting children constitute
coherent but distinctive constructs (Bornstein, 1989a,
2002b). In shorter words, parenting is multidimensional,
modular, and specific, and individual parents may pos-
sess particular cognitions and emphasize particular
practices with their children.
Direct and Indirect Effects of Parenting
Cognitions and Practices
Empirical research attests to the short- and long-term
influences of parent cognitions and practices on child
development. Maternal attentiveness and mood during
feeding in the first months predict 3-year child language
(Bee et al., 1982). Mothers affectionately touching,
rocking, holding, and smiling at their 6-month-olds pre-
dict cognitive competencies at 2 years (Olson, Bates, &
Bayles, 1984). Mothers who speak more, prompt more,
and respond more during the 1st year have 6-month-olds
to 4-year-olds who score higher in standardized evalua-
tions of language and cognition (Bornstein, 1985;
Bornstein, Tamis-LeMonda, & Haynes, 1999; Nicely,
Tamis-LeMonda, & Bornstein, 1999). Even features of
the parent-outfitted physical environment appear to in-
fluence child development directly (Wachs & Chan,
1986): New toys and changing room decorations influ-
ence child language acquisition in and of themselves,
and independent of proximal parenting.
924 Parenting Science and Practice
Indirect effects are more subtle and perhaps less no-
ticeable than direct effects, but no less meaningful. One
primary type of indirect effect is marital support and
communication. Effective coparenting bodes well for
child development (McHale et al., 2002), and mothers
who report supportive relationships with secondary
parents (grandparents and the like) are more compe-
tent and sensitively responsive to their children than are
women lacking such relationships (Grych, 2002). In the
extreme, conflict between spouses may reduce the avail-
ability of an important source of support in child rear-
ing, namely, ones partner. Short of that, parents
embroiled in marital conflict may miss the sometimes
subtle signals children use to communicate their needs.
Children in these homes may learn that their caregivers
are unreliable sources of information or assistance in
stressful situations. For example, even 1-year-old chil-
dren are less likely to look to their maritally dissatisfied
father for information or clarification in the face of
stress or ambiguity than are like-age children of mari-
tally satisfied fathers (Parke, 2002).
Specificity, Transaction, and Interdependence in
Parenting Cognitions and Practices
Parents cognitions and practices each can influence
children via different paths. A common assumption in
parenting is that the overall level of parental involvement
or stimulation affects the childs overall level of devel-
opment (see Maccoby & Martin, 1983). An example of
this simple model suggests that the development of lan-
guage in children is determined (at least to some degree)
by the amount of language children hear (Hart & Risley,
1995). Indeed, mothers single-word utterances are just
those that appear earliest in their childrens vocabular-
ies (Chapman, 1981), and specific characteristics of ma-
ternal speech appear to play a part in childrens specific
styles of speech (E. Bates, Bretherton, & Snyder, 1988).
Increasing evidence suggests, however, that more so-
phisticated and differentiated mechanisms need to be
brought to bear to explain parenting effects (Collins
et al., 2000). First, specific (rather than general)
parental cognitions and practices appear to relate con-
currently and predictively to specific (rather than gen-
eral) aspects of child competence or performance
(Bornstein, 1989b, 2002b; Bradley, Caldwell, & Rock,
1988; Hunt, 1979; Wachs, 2000). It is not the case that
overall level of parental stimulation directly affects
childrens overall level of functioning and compensates
for selective deficiencies: Simply providing an adequate
financial base, a big house, or the like does not guaran-
tee, or even speak to, childrens development of healthy
eating habits, an empathic personality, verbal compe-
tence, or other valued capacities. The specificity princi-
ple states that specific cognitions and practices in
specific parents at specific times exert specific effects
in child development in specific children in specific
ways (Bornstein, 1989a, 2002b).
The specificity principle helps to explain numerous
observations and discrepancies in the parenting litera-
ture. For example, Parents who are highly effective at
one stage in the childs life [are] not necessarily as ef-
fective at another. . . . Similar practices do not necessar-
ily produce the same effects at successive stages in [a]
childs life (Baumrind, 1989, p. 189). Mothers re-
sponses to their childrens communicative overtures are
central to childrens early acquisition of language, but
exert less influence on the growth of motor abilities
(Tamis-LeMonda & Bornstein, 1994).
The specificity principle is apparently counterintu-
itive because, according to the Zero-to-Three (1997) na-
tional survey, 87% of parents simplistically think that
the more stimulation a baby receives, the better off the
baby is. In fact, parents need to carefully match the
amount and kinds of stimulation they offer to a specific
childs specific level of development, specific interests,
temperament, and mood at the moment. The specificity
principle accords with a situational contextual view of
parenting. It is not that there do not exist consistent par-
enting styles, but parenting is best conceptualized as
multidimensional, modular, and specific, reflecting the
interactional context. Parenting undergoes frequent ad-
justments and represents the product of multiple trans-
actional processes. This is person-situation interaction
brought to parenting (Dix, 1992; Grusec & Goodnow,
1994; Luster & Okagaki, 2005).
One implication of this position for parenting is that
estimates of the strength of parental effects are likely
specific to particular parenting cognitions or practices in
specific circumstances for specific children at specific
points in time. To detect regular relations between an-
tecedents in parenting, experience, and environment on
the one hand and outcomes in child characteristics and
values on the other, we need to seek and to find precisely
the right combinations of independent and dependent
variables.
Consider timing as one key term of the specificity
formulation. Ethological and attachment theories of par-
enting posit a special role for early experience in child
Parenting Cognitions and Practices 925
development. Early parenting influences the child at a
particular time point in a particular way, and the conse-
quence for the child endures, independent of later par-
enting and of any other contribution of the child. This
early experience model is consonant with a sensitive pe-
riod interpretation of parenting effects (Bornstein,
1989c), and data derived from ethology, attachment,
psychoanalysis, behaviorism, and neuropsychology sup-
port this model with regard to some child outcomes.
Wakschlag and Hans (1999), for example, found mater-
nal responsiveness in infancy was related to a decreased
risk of behavioral problems in middle childhood after
controlling for concurrent parenting.
Early childhood may be a period of plasticity and
adaptability to transient conditions, but early effects
may not persist or they may be altered or supplanted by
subsequent conditions that are more consequential. On
this argument, some theorists have questioned the im-
portance of early experience (Kagan, 1998; Lewis,
1997). Alternatively, they argue, parents exert unique
influences over their children at points in development
that override the effects of earlier experiences and inde-
pendent of whatever individual differences children
carry forward. Empirical support for contemporary ex-
perience models typically consists of recovery of func-
tioning from early deprivation and failures of early
interventions to show sustained effects (Clarke &
Clarke, 1976; Lewis, 1997; Rutter and English and Ro-
manian Adoptees Study Team, 1998).
Third, a cumulative/additive/stable environment
model, which combines the first two views, contends
that, with repeated and successful experiences, children
develop important associations as they assimilate infor-
mation from one learning experience and apply it to in-
formation gained in the next (Rovee-Collier, 1995). That
is, a parent-provided experience at any one time does not
necessarily affect the child, but meaningful longitudinal
relations are structured by similar parenting interac-
tions continually repeating and aggregating through
time (Bornstein & Tamis-LeMonda, 1990; Coates &
Lewis, 1984; Landry, Smith, Swank, Assel, & Vellet,
2001; Olson et al., 1984). Although longitudinal data
provide evidence for unique early, unique contemporary,
and cumulative experiential effects between parents and
children, for the most part children are reared in stable
environments (Holden & Miller, 1999), so that cumula-
tive experiences are very likely.
Furthermore, concurrent and predictive correspon-
dences begin to define the mutual influences that parent
and child continuously exert on one another. The trans-
actional principle in development acknowledges that the
characteristics of an individual shape his or her experi-
ences and, reciprocally, that experiences shape the char-
acteristics of the individual through time (Sameroff,
1983). Bell (1968; Bell & Harper, 1977) was among the
first to emphasize the key role that bidirectional effects
play in the socialization process. Biological endowment
and experience mutually influence development from
birth onward, and each life force affects the other as de-
velopment proceeds to unfold through the life span
(R. M. Lerner et al., 2002; Overton, 1998). By virtue of
their unique characteristics and propensitiesstate of
arousal, perceptual awareness, cognitive status, emo-
tional expressiveness, and individuality of temperament
and personalitychildren actively contribute, through
their interactions with their parents, to producing their
own development. Children influence which experiences
they will be exposed to, and they interpret and appraise
those experiences, and so (in some degree) determine
how those experiences will affect them (Scarr & Mc-
Cartney, 1983). Child and parent bring distinctive char-
acteristics to, and each is believed to change as a result
of, every interaction; both parent and child then enter
the next round of interaction as changed individuals. For
example, child temperament and maternal sensitivity
operate in tandem to affect one another and eventually
the attachment status of babies (Cassidy, 1994; Seifer,
Schiller, Sameroff, Resnick, & Riordan, 1996).
In addition, parents and children are embedded in
complex social systems marked by strong forms of inter-
dependence associated with responsibilities and func-
tions of family members through time. Interdependence
means that to understand the responsibilities and func-
tions of any one family member necessitates recognizing
the complementary responsibilities and functions of
other family members (Bornstein & Sawyer, 2005).
When one member of the family changes in some way, all
members of the family are potentially affected. Beyond
the nucleus family system, all families are also embed-
ded in, influence, and are themselves affected by larger
social systems. These include both formal and informal
support systems, extended families, community ties with
friends and neighbors, work sites, social, educational,
and medical institutions, and the culture at large.
To fathom the nature of parenthood and parent-child
relationships within families, therefore, requires a mul-
tivariate and dynamic stance. Only by taking multiple
circumstances into consideration simultaneously can we
926 Parenting Science and Practice
appreciate individual-, dyadic-, and family-level aspects
within the family and the embeddedness of the family
within its many relevant extrafamilial systems. The mul-
tiple pathways and dynamics of parenting and child de-
velopment present really quite messy facts of life, and it
makes everyones job harder: Researchers are chal-
lenged to develop new paradigms and methodologies to
accommodate this chaos; similarly, the use of this per-
spective in the development and implementation of
parenting interventions as well as policy is made prob-
lematic. Yet, it is only out of this complexity and chaos
that we can possibly understand more about the reality
of families and children and parenting.
Cognition-Practice Relations in Parenting
Are parents cognitions about their own practices accu-
rate and valid? Intuitively, parents child-rearing be-
liefs might be expected to relate to their child-rearing
behaviors. Indeed, parents cognitions are hypothesized
by many to direct parents child-rearing practices (Dar-
ling & Steinberg, 1993; Sigel & McGillicuddy-De Lisi,
2002). Nonetheless, the relation between beliefs and be-
haviors is historically an unsettled area in social psy-
chology (Festinger, 1964; Green, 1954; LaPiere, 1934),
and relations between parental beliefs and behaviors
specifically are equally problematic (Okagaki & Bing-
ham, 2005; Goodnow & Collins, 1990; Holden, 2002;
S. G. Miller, 1988; Sigel & McGillicuddy-De Lisi,
2002). Coordinate relations between parents beliefs
and behaviors have often proven elusive (S. G. Miller,
1988), with many researchers reporting no relations be-
tween mothers professed parenting attitudes and their
activities with their children (Cote & Bornstein, 2000;
McGillicuddy-De Lisi, 1992). In many cases, those par-
enting beliefs and behaviors that have been studied have
been general and have not been conceptually correspon-
ding, and so there has been little reason to expect co-
variation. Other studies have reported correlations
between parents beliefs and behaviors that are rela-
tively weak or positive but nonsignificant (Coleman &
Karraker, 2003; Mantzicopoulos, 1997; Sigel &
McGillicuddy-De Lisi, 2002).
When more circumscribed and corresponding do-
mains are studied, some maternal beliefs relate to some
self-reported or observed maternal child-rearing behav-
iors (Kinlaw, Kurtz-Costes, & Goldman-Fraser, 2001;
Stevens, 1984). Thus, the strength of the association be-
tween parents cognitions and practices appears to de-
pend, at least in part, on the closeness of the conceptual
match between the contents of the beliefs and the types
of behaviors that are measured (DeBaryshe, 1995), for
example, between mothers authoritative attitudes and
discipline strategies (Kochanska, Kuczynski, & Radke-
Yarrow, 1989), beliefs about child-rearing practices and
actual caregiving behaviors (Wachs & Camli, 1991), and
beliefs about parenting effectiveness and caregiving
competence (Teti & Gelfand, 1991). The degree to
which mothers believe that childrens development can
be facilitated by their social environment is positively
correlated with the amount and type of language that
mothers use during mother-child interactions (Donahue,
Pearl, & Herzog, 1997). Harwood, Miller, and Irizarry
(1995) found that European American mothers under-
score the importance of values such as independence,
assertiveness, and creativity when asked to describe
their ideal child, whereas Latina mothers underscore the
importance of obedience and respect for theirs. In line
with these expressed values, U.S. mothers foster inde-
pendence in their children; for example, in naturalistic
mother-child interactions during feeding, U.S. mothers
encourage their children to feed themselves at 8 months
of age. In contrast, Latina mothers hold their children
close on their lap during mealtimes and take control of
feeding them meals from start to finish.
Of course, associations between parents cognitions
and practices could, also in part, be a methodological ar-
tifact of shared source variance: Much of the research
that has reported significant correlations between par-
ents cognitions and practices has utilized parents self-
reports to measure both, inflating relations between the
variables being studied (S. G. Miller, 1988).
Summary
Biological parents endow a significant and pervasive ge-
netic makeup to their children, with its beneficial or
other consequences for childrens proclivities and abili-
ties. Beyond parents genes, prominent theories of
human development put experience in the world as
either the principal source of individual growth or as a
major contributing component. It falls to parents (and
other caregivers) to shape most, if not all, of young chil-
drens experiences, and parents directly influence child
development both by the beliefs they hold and by the
behaviors they exhibit. Parenting cognitions include, for
example, perceptions about, attitudes toward, and
knowledge of all aspects of parenting and childhood.
Out of the dynamic range and complexity of individual
Prevention and Intervention in Parenting 927
activities that constitute parenting, major domains of
parent-child interaction have been distinguished. These
domains are conceptually separable but fundamentally
integral, and each is developmentally significant.
Caregiving behaviors and styles constitute direct ex-
perience effects of parenting. Indirect effects are more
subtle and less noticeable than direct effects, but per-
haps no less meaningful. Parents indirectly influence
their children by virtue of their influence on each other,
for example, by marital support and communication and
the multiple contexts in which they live. Whether direct
or indirect, parental influences on children operate on
several noteworthy principles. The specificity principle
states that specific experiences specific parents provide
specific children at specific times exert effects over
specific aspects of child growth in specific ways. The
transaction principle asserts that the experiences par-
ents offer their children shape the characteristics of the
child through time, just as, reciprocally, the characteris-
tics of the child shape his or her experiences. Thus, chil-
dren influence which experiences they will be exposed
to, as well as how they interpret those experiences, and
therefore ultimately how those experiences affect them.
PREVENTION AND INTERVENTION
IN PARENTING
Infanticide was practiced historically, and although it is
rare today, it is not unknown (Hrdy, 1999). Short of that,
children are common victims of abuse and neglect, babies
are born drug addicted, and many youngsters are never
immunized. It is a sad fact of everyday life that parenting
children does not always go as planned. Almost two in
five parents (37% in the Zero-to-Three, 1997, survey) say
that one of the chief reasons they need to improve as par-
ents is that they do not spend as much quality time with
their children as they would like. Modern parents typi-
cally complain that they have too many balls in the air al-
ready: working, errands, multiple commitments. This is
not to trivialize the daunting problems that parents face:
In the 1940s and 1950s, chewing gum and talking out of
turn were the classroom problems listed by teachers as
most prominent; today drug abuse and violencewit-
nessed in its most extreme form in the school shootings at
Pearl, Peducah, Edinbiro, Jonesboro, and Columbine
High Schoolstop their list. A significant proportion of
parents need assistance to find more effective strategies
to create more satisfying relationships with children, but
only a fraction of parents who need such services receive
them (Saxe, Cross, & Silverman, 1988). When parents
suffer from individual, marital, and parenting problems,
children are more likely to have academic and behavior
problems and difficulty relating to their peers.
Strong secular and historical trends operating in mod-
ern societyindustrialization, urbanization, poverty, in-
creasing population growth and density, and especially
widespread dual parental employmentconstitute cen-
trifugal forces on parenting. Society at large is also wit-
nessing the emergence of striking permutations in
parenthood and the constellation of the family structure,
notably in the rise of single-parent households, divorced
and blended families, and teenage and 50s first-time
parents. In short, the family generally, and parenthood
specifically, are today in an agitated state of question,
flux, and redefinition. Because these societywide
changes exert many unfortunately debilitative influences
on parenthood, on interactions between parents and chil-
dren, and consequently on children and their develop-
ment, organizations at all levels of society increasingly
feel the need to intercede in child rearing and to right
some of societys ills through parenting preventions and
interventions. For these and other reasons, contemporary
parenting has witnessed an explosive growth in informa-
tion and support programs. This trend also leads away
from a focus on parents as the proximal protectors,
providers, and proponents of their own progeny. In real-
ity, however, parents are childrens primary advocates
and their frontline defense. Parents are the corps avail-
able in the greatest numbers to lobby and labor for chil-
dren. Few ethical or sentient parents want to abrogate
their child-rearing responsibilities. Insofar as parents can
be enlisted and empowered to provide children with expe-
riences and environments that optimize childrens devel-
opment, society can obviate after-the-fact remediation.
Prevention and Intervention
Little wonder that a one-time U.S. commissioner of edu-
cation opined that every child has a right to a trained
parent. Preventions are concerned with identifying risk
and protective factors that ultimately lead to empiri-
cally based interventions (Coie, Watt, West, & Hawkins,
1993; Mrazek & Haggerty, 1994). Contemporary
parenting prevention and intervention programs are nor-
mally guided by several assumptions. Parents are usu-
ally the most consistent and caring people in the lives of
their children. If parents are provided with knowledge,
928 Parenting Science and Practice
skills, and supports, they can respond more positively
and effectively to their children. Parents own emo-
tional and physical needs must be met if they are to rear
children optimally.
Certain tools can help to address these parenting re-
quirements successfully. First, parents benefit from
knowledge of how children develop. Therefore, the nor-
mative patterns and stages of childrens physical, ver-
bal, cognitive, emotional, and social development, as
well as their nutritional and health needs, should be part
of the knowledge base for parenthood. Second, parents
need to know how to observe children. Informed child
watching helps to clarify a childs level of development
in relation to what parents want children to learn and to
accomplish. Observing also allows parents to spot po-
tential trouble early and may help them respond to a
childs daily frustrations more skillfully. Third, parents
need all manner of skills for managing their childrens
behaviors. Knowledge of alternative methods of disci-
pline and problem avoidance are basic. Parents need to
understand the tremendous impact they have on their
childrens lives through the simplest things they do:
their attention, expressed pleasure, listening, and inter-
est. Fourth are supports for development. Knowing how
to take advantage of settings, routines, and activities to
create learning and problem-solving opportunities en-
hances parenthood and childhood. Finally, parents need
to be patient, flexible, and goal-orientedto call on
their personal sources of supportand they must com-
mand an ability to extract pleasure from their encoun-
ters with children.
Positive prevention and intervention programs for
parents are guided by beliefs in the consummate role of
families in rearing their own children and the impor-
tance of family participation in defining its priorities
and identifying appropriate prevention and intervention
strategies. The responsibility for determining the childs
best interests rests first and foremost with parents.
Therefore, the doctrine of parental rights remains a fun-
damental premise of parent education efforts.
Contemporary parents from families all along the
continuum from low risk to serious distress can and do
seek assistance to become more effective parents. Pre-
ventions and interventions designed to help parents come
in a variety of venues (psychotherapy, classes, print and
broadcast media), settings ( homes, schools, health clin-
ics, houses of worship), and formats (individual, family,
groups). Child-focused programs are based on theories
that emphasize biological and psychological change
mechanisms within the child; parent-focused programs
relate primarily to changing parents cognitions and
practices; transactional programs combine child- and
parent-focused perspectives to improve the quality of
parent-child relationships (P. A. Cowan et al., 1998).
Experimental designs yield the best causal evidence
on what works in a prevention or intervention. Early re-
viewers of parenting programs arrived at the unhappy
conclusion that research results were often confusing
and failed to demonstrate support for program effective-
ness (Dembo, Switzer, & Lauritzen, 1985; Levant,
1988; Powell, 1998). To overcome design and measure-
ment flaws in existing studies, prevention and interven-
tion studies require large samples, inclusion of fathers
as well as mothers, recruitment of no-treatment or alter-
native treatment controls and comparisons, random as-
signment to conditions, and multimeasure, multimethod
assessments that include parent self-reports, parents re-
ports about children, and independent observations of
parents and childrens behavior. Researchers also need
to be mindful of the specificity principle and its impli-
cations. Researchers rarely find problem-free organiza-
tional settings to host programs, consistently uniform
program implementation, or consensus among staff on a
programs theory of change (Cook & Payne, 2002). With
sufficient sample sizes, however, such variability in im-
plementation can be systematically examined as part of
outcome research. Many parenting preventions and in-
terventions aimed at at-risk populations have failed to
produce anticipated or desired effects on parents or
children (St. Pierre & Layzer, 1999), leading to a closer
examination of process. For example, small effects from
randomized trials of six prominent home visiting pro-
grams led one group of analysts to call for research
crafted to primarily help programs improve quality and
implementation: for example, to explore which families
are most likely to engage in and to benefit from the
services . . . and to determine the threshold levels of in-
tensity and duration of services (Gomby, Culross, &
Behrman, 1999, p. 22).
Interest in what works for parenting reflects the gen-
eral desire to ensure that resources are well spent and,
more specifically, coincide with governmental efforts to
use findings from scientifically based research (Powell,
2005). For example, the U.S. Department of Educations
Institute of Education Sciences established a What
Works Clearinghouse (WWC) to provide educators, pol-
Case History of a Parenting Intervention 929
icymakers, and the public with high-quality reviews of
scientific evidence of the effectiveness of replicable ed-
ucational interventions, including programs, practices,
products, and policies.
Program research has generally focused on three cat-
egories of variables in searches for what works in par-
enting: program features, population characteristics,
and program participation (Powell, 2005). Program fea-
tures have been considered in relation to outcomes and
have also been studied as a context of program partici-
pation. There are structural characteristics such as the
mode of delivery (group, home-based); the onset, dura-
tion, and frequency of program services; and whether
the parenting program is part of a larger effort that in-
cludes other services (early childhood education). A re-
lated characteristic is program staffing. For example, in
a review of 15 randomized trials of home visiting pro-
grams aimed at promoting the cognitive and verbal de-
velopment of young children in low-SES families, Olds
and Kitzman (1993) found that only six produced signif-
icant overall program benefits for children. Five of the
six successful programs employed professionals or
highly trained staff: nurses, teachers, or psychology
graduate students. In total, compared with randomized
controls, 71% of the interventions that employed profes-
sionals, but only 29% of the programs staffed by para-
professionals, produced significant positive outcomes
for children. However, employing professional staff did
not guarantee program success, nor were intervention
failures attributable solely to the lack of professional
training. Goals and content represent other critical sets
of program features. Last, parenting programs differ in
the pedagogical or clinical strategies they employ to
support change in parents.
Contemporary studies also use randomized trials and
repeated measures of family processes and child out-
comes over long-term follow-up intervals (Forgatch &
DeGarmo, 1999; Kellam, Rebok, Ialongo, & Mayer,
1994; Reid, Eddy, Fetrow, & Stoolmiller, 1999). With
improved design features, positive effects of programs
often prove stronger over time, sometimes more than a
year or two after the conclusion of the program (C. P.
Cowan et al., 1985; Markman, Renick, Floyd, & Stanley,
1993; Olds, Henderson, Kitzman, & Cole, 1995). A pro-
gram may stimulate initial disequilibria of organized
systems, which may result in replacing disorganization
with reorganization at a new structural level only with
some delay. Also, treatment groups might remain intact
or at the same level or they may show positive gains,
whereas control groups decline. Even small effects of
parenting have the potential to become large effects over
time (Abelson, 1985). Because parenting has been shown
to be stable (Holden & Miller, 1999), specific parental
influences, consistently experienced, could accumulate
to produce larger meaningful outcomes in childhood.
Case History of a
Parenting Intervention
The Center for Child Well-being (CCW; 2004), a
branch of the Task Force for Child Survival in Atlanta,
Georgia, recognizes that the healthy development of
children is not simply a result of eliminating health
problems that occur in childhood, but requires proac-
tive nurturing of strengths and positive behaviors,
skills, characteristics, and values that promote physical
growth and health, cognitive development, and social
and emotional well-being. The CCW undertakes proj-
ects that engage diverse groups of parents, policy-
makers, scientists, practitioners, and advocates in syn-
thesizing their knowledge and experience in child
health and development. To meet these goals, the CCW
has created five networks: Parenting, Early Child Care
and Education, Health and Safety, Early Child Devel-
opment, and Community Support. Each network con-
sists of approximately one dozen geographically
dispersed core members who represent a wide range of
disciplines, professions, sectors of society, perspec-
tives, ethnicities, and cultural viewpoints.
The Parenting Network and Its Work
The Parenting Network (PN) was recruited by the CCW
to apply science and experience to strengthen parenting
skills by creating and disseminating practical products
that would make a difference for parents. Topics of
interest to the PN included parenting stress (time man-
agement, setting priorities, work/family issues, social
support networks, and parenting skill development);
effective parental relationships with caregivers, pedia-
tricians, teachers, and bosses/supervisors; regulating en-
vironmental influences on children (media and peers);
parental education (recognizing and promoting strengths
in children and coping with weaknesses); and nontradi-
tional parenting (single parents, divorced parents, foster
parents, and grandparents). The PN has generated a
number of products: books, pamphlets, book lists, Web
930 Parenting Science and Practice
postings, and the like (e.g., Bornstein, Davidson, Keyes,
Moore, & Center for Child Well-Being, 2003).
For one project, the PN reviewed the scientific litera-
ture concerned with supporting parents, conducted an
online survey of parents and parenting professionals,
and evaluated more than 1,000 parenting products (in
terms of consumer cost, publication, ease of acquisition,
endorsement by official organizations, the organizations
responsible for product development, and intended audi-
ences). It observed that very few products were devel-
oped for parents of low SES or for minority parents.
Rather, approximately 75% of available parenting prod-
ucts were primarily geared to general audiences; the
majority were literature-based materials, but more than
100 videos were developed for parents or for use in par-
enting classes. Of those, only a handful were developed
for low-SES parents and only a dozen for minority par-
ents, at an average cost per video of over $100. Evident
throughout the PNs initial review was the thread of
awareness that they were to create a product that would
serve as a mediumthrough which knowledge would
passand that their challenge was to create a vehicle
that would effectively deliver their work into the hands
of parents who would benefit from this conveyance.
The PN decided to pursue the issue of stress-related
parenting, including stress related to normal child devel-
opment, selection and supervision of child care, balanc-
ing work and family, child temperament, discipline and
daily hassles, illness or disability, stress associated with
intrafamilial conflict, coping with stress, cultivating
social support, and building parenting strengths to coun-
teract stress. Parenting is inherently stressful. Decreas-
ing parental stress promises to improve the parent-child
relationship as well as the well-being of both parties.
Economic stress, for example, has a negative impact on
parents, erodes parenting skills, and also undermines
childrens development (Conger et al., 1994). Connec-
tions exist between parental stress and child abuse
(Holden, Willis, & Foltz, 1989), harsh parenting styles
(Emery & Tuer, 1993), and decreased sensitivity to
child cues and more negative feelings toward children
(Crnic et al., 1983).
Parental stress that occurs in everyday interactions
with children also relates to normal child development.
Lack of knowledge about child development often leads
to inappropriate expectations, which in turn lead to neg-
ative interactions between parents and children. This
logic became a central theme of a planned intervention
project. If parents better understood normative develop-
mental issues, then they would have more realistic ex-
pectations for their childrens behavior. The presence of
unrealistic expectations, based on a lack of understand-
ing of normal child development, for example, leads to
frustrated interactions and increased daily stressors. In-
creasing parents knowledge of their childrens develop-
ment would then decrease stress, which would directly
benefit both parents and children. Zero-to-Three (1997)
conducted a survey of 3,000 adults regarding what par-
ents know about child development. Specific areas of
misinformation included expectations of young children
at different ages and stages, and spoiling and spanking.
A report from the Commonwealth Fund, Child Devel-
opment and Medicaid: Attitudes of Mothers with Young
Children Enrolled in Medicaid, indicated that mothers
want simple and easily accessible materials about their
childs development and about easing pressures of child
rearing (Kannel & Perry, 2001).
The PN conducted two focus groups at Head Start
programs. Taking an emic approach, the PN endeavored
to learn about the intended audience: what topics inter-
ested this audience, by which channels this audience
preferred to receive messages, which product formats
might most appeal to it, and what barriers prevented it
from accessing and using existing information about
child development.
One message the PN heard repeatedly was that par-
ents wanted to participate in groups where they could
talk to other parents and learn more about how to im-
prove their parenting skills. On this basis, the PN de-
cided to develop a parenting intervention for young
African American parents in low-SES circumstances.
The PN determined that starting at a local level would
increase the likelihood of success.
The culmination of planning led the PN to propose that
the CCW develop a Community Kit to help these par-
ents reduce parent-related stresses and improve their par-
enting skills. The proposed kit would be used in a group
setting to foster a support network for parents and would
include videos and complementary multimedia materials
for facilitators and participants. The information included
in the kit would address general categories: child develop-
ment specific to age/stages, stage-specific parenting, and
coping with stresses specific to those stages.
The final proposal was the result of a dynamic ex-
change between parents and parenting experts. The PN
had sought and received input directly from parents
representative of the ultimate target audience to dis-
cover what those parents felt they most needed, how
Case History of a Parenting Intervention 931
that information would best be received, and how the
information to be contained in the Community Kit
could reflect the members own child development, ex-
periences, and parenting expertise.
Partnerships
The CCW also initiated partnerships with organizations
that agreed to field-test, fine-tune, and implement the
Community Kit. Expert interviews and focus groups
were used to obtain information from African American
cultural authorities and behavior change theorists, ser-
vice providers, and parents. In particular, four critical
pieces of information about content and delivery of mes-
sages were sought and obtained:
1. Message style: How messages about child develop-
ment and child rearing, stress and coping, should best
be formulated to meet with the highest level of recog-
nition and understanding?
2. Messenger: Who should present those messages?
3. Barriers: What impediments stand between recogni-
tion and understanding of such messages and behav-
ior change related to child development and child
rearing, stress and coping?
4. Success: What are the best ways to overcome barriers
to recognition and understanding of target messages?
Findings indicated that low-SES African American
parents were most concerned with stresses related to
finding time for self, finances, balancing work and fam-
ily, and ensuring quality child care. Parents reported that
they needed to learn more about their childs develop-
ment and talked about issues such as discipline, attach-
ment, and establishing a routine as being important.
Parents also preferred parenting classes held in a support
group setting, and wanted to see videos with real-life par-
ents, with whom they could identify, instead of celebri-
ties or white-coated child development experts. Parents
stressed the importance of authenticity and avoiding a
judgmental tone. Many parent education programs have
been criticized for attempting to impose middle-SES
values on all types of families and failing to acknowledge
the strengths and values of minorities. Furthermore,
many parenting education materials undermine parents
feelings of efficacy (C. Smith, Perou, & Lesesne, 2002).
These parents focus groups provided the framework
for the design of the main CCW parenting intervention.
Based on comments from parents, several features of the
intervention were considered vital to its success:
1. Support: Group formation should be used to increase
support networks that also constitute a product of
the project.
2. Appropriateness: The intervention should be primar-
ily focused on low-education/ low-income African
American mothers and fathers, but can be modified to
fit various languages, racial and ethnic norms, and
generations.
3. Incentives: The work focused heavily on addressing
both barriers and incentives to participation.
4. Reinforcement: In addition to messages discussed and
reinforced in the group setting, participants would be
provided with materials to take home to reinforce
messages at the time when they need the information
to achieve behavior change.
Parenting in the Real World
On the basis of findings from the background research
and focus groups, the PN developed a targeted inter-
vention for parents of children from birth through 3
years of age called Parenting in the Real World: Kids
Dont Come with Instructions (a name generated by
focus group participants). Parenting in the Real World
(PRW) is a system of parenting classes for low-income
African Americans that addresses the most critical as-
pects of parenting young children, as identified by
the PN and in focus groups of actual parents. The main
goals of PRW are to help parents reduce their parenting
stress and improve their parenting knowledge and
skills. PRW consists of seven 90-minute sessions, in-
cluding an introductory session, five topic sessions,
and a graduation. Topics covered are knowledge of
child development; discipline; attachment; juggling
work, school, and family; and taking care of self. The
PRW tool kit was developed for group facilitators, such
as Early Head Start family support coordinators, and
consists of a video, facilitators guide, a parent hand-
book, marketing material, and message reinforcement
materials, such as pens and key chains imprinted with
key concepts.
Each PRW session begins with a short video clip de-
signed to trigger discussion among the participants. Par-
enting stresses and coping techniques are identified and
discussed. Sessions also contain exercises designed to
932 Parenting Science and Practice
build parents skills and improve their understanding of
child development. These exercises include a judicious
mix of role-play, quizzes, and peer education. At the end
of each session, parents are given take-home materials
and asked to identify one area to work on during the fol-
lowing week. Parents are asked to report on their activi-
ties at the next session. One important goal of each
session is to have parents build on their strengths to im-
prove their parenting skills and increase their feelings of
competence. The intervention was also designed to fos-
ter connections among participants.
Assessment
Three groups of parents participated in an initial as-
sessment of PRW: (1) Parents whose children were en-
rolled in Early Head Start and who took part in the
PRW intervention served as the treatment group; (2)
parents whose children were enrolled in Early Head
Start, but who did not participate in the PRW interven-
tion, served as the first control group; and (3) parents
whose children were not enrolled in Early Head Start
served as the second control group. (Sample sizes were
small due to limited funding for the evaluation phase of
the project.) All parents were African American, and
most were mothers. On average, parents were about 30
years of age, had two children, and almost half had
never been married. Over a quarter of parents had a
high school diploma or less education, about half had
completed either partial college or specialized train-
ing, and another quarter had completed a 4-year college
degree. Reported annual income ranged from under
$10,000/year to between $40,001 and $50,000/year.
The parents in the three groups did not significantly
differ in age, education, or income levels.
To test the feasibility of the kit, parents and facilita-
tors in the PRW program completed ongoing evaluations
of each of the seven sessions. Almost all parents re-
ported that the number of sessions was appropriate and
that the length of the sessions (90 minutes) was appro-
priate. Parents evaluations of program content and
structure were very positive. Upon graduation, parents
were asked a variety of questions, including whether the
program helped to improve their parenting skills and
their confidence about their parenting skills, and if they
would recommend the program.
Parent perceptions of the programs effects were
overwhelmingly positive. Parents agreed that the in-
formation presented across the seven sessions was un-
derstandable and interesting and that the video
segments were informative and entertaining. The top-
ics covered in the program were deemed relevant to
parenting. They reported a good balance among lec-
ture, discussion, and activities, and that the facilitator
did a good job of teaching the sessions. Parents re-
ported having learned new parenting skills or strate-
gies across the seven sessions. Similarly, they reported
that the sessions had reduced their parenting stress.
Overall, parents agreed that the PRW program helped
to improve their parenting, made them feel more con-
fident about their parenting, and reduced their parent-
ing stress. The treatment group also reported less
depression than the control groups at posttest, control-
ling for pretest levels of depression. All parents
reported that they would recommend the program to
a friend.
Facilitators were asked similar questions about the
comprehensibility of the material; balance among lec-
ture, discussion, and activities; and video segments.
They were also asked whether the facilitators guide
was easy to use, helpful, clear, and thorough; whether
parents were interested in the topics; and whether it was
easy to get parents to participate. Like the parents, the
facilitators reported that the information presented
across the seven sessions was understandable to the par-
ents and maintained parents interest, and they found it
easy to get parents to participate. They agreed that the
video segments were informative and entertaining and
that they achieved a good balance among lecture, dis-
cussion, and activities. Facilitators found the teaching
guide easy to use and thorough.
The final stage of the evaluation process included
focus groups for parents who participated in the classes,
conducted within 2 weeks after the sessions were com-
pleted and facilitated by an independent consultant.
These exit focus groups gave participants the opportu-
nity to talk about their experiences in the classes and
how the classes impacted their parenting beliefs and be-
haviors. Parents had the opportunity to offer suggestions
about the sessions and provide feedback to be used to re-
vise the contents of the PRW kit. Facilitators also par-
ticipated in a focus group. They were asked about the
sessions and whether or not they felt that the structure
and content were likely to improve parenting and child
development. Issues such as attendance, time of ses-
sions, incentives, and facilitator characteristics were
also discussed.
Transcriptions from these focus groups were ana-
lyzed for themes. For parent focus groups:
Conclusions 933
1. The group discussions and the support group setting
were deemed very helpful. Interacting with other
parents and being able to come to the session and talk
helped to relieve parenting stress.
2. Parents agreed that the sessions had the appropriate
amount of information and found the information to
be understandable and relevant to their lives.
3. Participants reported learning new information and
using new skills that helped to reduce their stress: es-
tablishing a routine, yelling at their children less, re-
assessing their beliefs about child development,
becoming more patient with their children, and learn-
ing that all children are different.
4. Parents enjoyed the take-home items and found them
to be useful reminders of the main messages.
5. Parents formed support networks with one another.
Some exchanged phone numbers and helped one an-
other with babysitting.
6. All parents would recommend the PRW course to
their friends.
For facilitator focus groups:
1. Each facilitator found the PRW kit easy to use. They
liked the organization of the topics as well as the con-
tent in each section.
2. The facilitators felt that the participants could relate
to the parents in the video.
3. Facilitators found the content to be understandable
and relevant (although they wanted to see more time
spent covering discipline).
4. Facilitators suggested that homework assignments be
made more user-friendly and simpler.
5. Facilitators agreed that they would continue to use
the PRW kit for their parent education classes.
Ongoing Efforts
Based on feedback from both parents and facilitators,
the PRWkit was revised. Obtaining real-world feedback
throughout each stage of development and refinement
was essential to making the CCWparenting intervention
both accessible and relevant to the target population.
Further dissemination and continued evaluation of the
PRW kit are aimed at improving parental involvement,
and at the same time arming Early Head Start centers
with a valuable tool for parent education. The topics
covered in PRWare issues that all parents face, and par-
ents who took part in PRWclasses reported that the sup-
port group atmosphere was extremely helpful, the topics
especially relevant, and the information contained in
the classes effective in reducing their stress and afford-
ing them strengths and strategies to be more available
and consistent with their children. Furthermore, partic-
ipation in the PRW classes ameliorated depression in
parents, and many parents reported that they changed
their parenting behaviors, which increased their feelings
of competence and improved their relationships with
their children.
CONCLUSIONS
Parents intend much in their interactions with their chil-
dren: They promote their childrens mental development
through the structures they create and the meanings they
place on those structures, and they foster their chil-
drens emotional regulation, development of self, and
social sensitivities and participation in meaningful rela-
tionships and experiences outside of the family through
the models they portray and the values they display. The
complex of parent cognitions and practices with chil-
dren is divisible into domains, and parents tend to show
consistency over time in certain of those domains. Some
aspects of parenting are frequent or significant from the
get-go and wane thereafter; others wax over the course
of childhood. Parenting, along with other forces, exerts
powerful influences on childrens psychological devel-
opment. Although not all parenting is critical for later
development, and single events are rarely formative,
parenting certainly has long-lasting effects. Little and
big consistencies of parenting aggregate over childhood
to co-construct the person. The interactive and intersub-
jective aspects of parent and child have telling conse-
quences for development. Researchers and theoreticians
today do not ask whether parenting affects child devel-
opment, but which parent cognitions and practices affect
which aspects of development when and how, and they
are interested also to learn the ways in which individual
children are so affected, as well as the ways individual
children affect their own development.
Children bring unique social styles and an active,
physical, social, and mental life to everyday interactions
with adults that shape their caregiving experiences.
Children alter the environment as they interact with it,
and they interpret their experiences and environment in
idiosyncratic ways. In addition, biology, personality,
934 Parenting Science and Practice
and contexts all play important roles in determining the
nature and function of parenting. A full understanding
of what it means to parent children depends on the sev-
eral ecologies in which parenting takes place. Family
composition, social class, and cultural variation all
exert salient influences on the ways parents rear their
children and what they expect of children as they grow.
Of course, human development is too subtle, dy-
namic, and intricate to maintain that parenting alone de-
termines the course and outcome of ontogeny; stature in
maturity is shaped by the actions and vicissitudes of in-
dividuals themselves across the life span. Parenthood
does not fix the route or the terminus of the childs de-
velopment. Parent and child convey distinctive charac-
teristics to every interaction, and both are changed as a
result. In short, parent and child actively construct one
another through time.
Parents have central roles to play in childrens physi-
cal survival, social growth, emotional maturation, and
cognitive development. A better understanding of the
nature of the human being is afforded by examining par-
ents cognitions, practices, and their consequencesthe
unique and specific influences of parents. As children
achieve autonomy, parenthood ultimately means having
facilitated a childs self-confidence, capacity for inti-
macy, achievement motivation, pleasure in play and
work, friendships with peers, and continuing academic
success and fulfillment. Within-family parenting expe-
riences exercise a major impact over growth in each of
these spheres of development. In parenting, we some-
times dont know what to do, but we can find out; we
sometimes do know what to do, but still dont get into
the trenches and do it.
So, parenting is a peculiar kind of lifes work,
marked by challenging demands, changing and ambigu-
ous criteria, and all too frequent evaluations. Principles
such as specificity, interdependence, and transaction,
and indirect and direct effects, do not make it easy. Suc-
cessful parenting entails both affective componentsin
terms of commitment, empathy, and positive regard for
children, for exampleas well as cognitive compo-
nentsthe how, what, and why of caring for children.
Moreover, the path to achieving satisfaction and success
in parenting is not linear or incremental, but tends to me-
ander. Different tasks are more or less salient and chal-
lenging at different periods in the course of child
rearing. It is obvious that parenthood is central to child-
hood, to child development, and to societys long-term
investment in children. Parents are fundamentally com-
mitted to the survival, socialization, and education of
young children. But parenthood is also a critical compo-
nent of adulthood. So we are motivated to know about
the meaning and importance of parenthood as much for
itself as out of the desire to improve the lives of children
and society. Parenting is a process that formally begins
before pregnancy and continues through the balance of
the life span. Practically speaking, once a parent, al-
ways a parent.
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950
CHAPTER 23
Nonparental Child Care: Context, Concepts,
Correlates, and Consequences
MICHAEL E. LAMB and LIESELOTTE AHNERT
INTRODUCTION 950
CHILD CARE IN CULTURAL CONTEXT 953
Human Evolution and Ecology 953
Economic Inf luences on Child Care Practices 954
Other Goals and Purposes of Nonparental
Child Care 955
Dimensions of Cross-Cultural Variation 956
Summary 958
CHANGING PATTERNS OF CARE IN THE UNITED
STATES AND EUROPE: PARENTING AND
ALLOPARENTING 958
Patterns of Shared Care 959
Parental Decisions about Nonparental Care 963
Relationships between Parents and Other
Care Providers 964
Summary 965
QUALITY OF CARE 965
Process Measures of Quality 965
Structural Measures of Quality 968
Relations between Structural and Process
Measures of Quality 969
Correlates of the Quality of Care 970
Summary 972
CORRELATES AND CONSEQUENCES 972
Processes of Adaptation to Nonparental Care 973
Effects on Child-Parent Relationships 974
Relationships with Care Providers 977
Relationships with Peers 979
Behavior Problems, Compliance, and
Personal Maturity 983
Cognitive and Linguistic Competence 986
Enrichment Programs 989
Summary 994
AFTERSCHOOL CARE 995
Self-Care 996
Formal Afterschool Programs 997
Summary 998
CONCLUSION 999
REFERENCES 1001
INTRODUCTION
What type and how much care do young children receive
from adults other than their parents? What effects do
such care arrangements have on their development? Al-
though the latter question has been the focus of heated
ideological debate for more than 30 years, the issues are
actually more complicated than the shrill polemics sug-
gest, and interpretation of the burgeoning literature is
often difficult. In addition, researchers have learned in
recent years to be wary of facile generalization across
cultures or circumstances when studying such issues. It
is naive to ask whether nonparental child care is good or
bad for children or whether center care is better for chil-
The authors gratefully acknowledge the many constructive
comments and suggestions offered by Jay Belsky.
dren than home-based child care. Instead, researchers
must examine childrens development in the context of
the rich array of people, experiences, and settings to
which children are exposed, recognizing that the effects
are likely to differ from child to child, from one phase of
life to the next, and from setting to setting.
Most of the published research on the effects of child
care has been conducted in the United States, where
ideologically driven passions have been most intense,
but we have tried in this chapter to report and evaluate
relevant research conducted in other countries as well.
Such studies help place in context and perspective the
results of research conducted in the United States and
should foster caution about the universality, generaliz-
ability, and interpretability of the research literature.
Unfortunately, social scientists tend to have a very my-
opic view of human history, often treating popular or
widespread practices as basic species-typical givens
Nonparental Child Care: Context, Concepts, Correlates, and Consequences 951
without analyzing their origins and history. Because
formal schooling has been mandatory in most devel-
oped countries for several generations, for example, the
potential effects of schooling on child-parent relation-
ships are largely ignored, and concerns are raised about
the potential effects of nonparental care on younger
children. By contrast, the fact that formal education
(or productive labor away from family members) is a
much more recent and culturally restricted innovation
than nonparental child care is seldom recognized.
The transition to school is viewed as normal and norma-
tive; enrollment in child care, by contrast, has been
widely questioned, popularly and professionally.
Hrdy (1999, 2002, 2005) has argued persuasively, how-
ever, that humans evolved as cooperative breeders and
thus that human child rearing has always been charac-
terized by extensive involvement by multiple relatives
and conspecifics.
Of course, preoccupation with the potentially harm-
ful effects of nonparental care in early childhood is
not accidental; it reflects the belief, partially attributa-
ble to psychoanalysis and its incorporation into popular
North American belief systems, that early experiences
have disproportionately powerful influences on child
development. Fortunately, commitment to the early
experience hypothesis is not as profound today as it was
as little as 4 decades ago, when psychologists implied
that major early experiences had long-lasting effects
that were nearly impossible to overcome. Many
researchers and theorists have since come to believe
that all developmental periods are critical and that de-
velopment is best viewed as a continuing process in
which successive experiences modify, modulate, am-
plify, or ameliorate the effects of earlier experiences
on remarkably plastic individuals (J. S. Kagan, 1980;
Lerner, 1984; Lewis, 1998). This life span view of
development undeniably complicates efforts to study
longer-term effects on child developmentparticu-
larly the effects of less salient and significant events
but appears to represent better the determinants and
course of human development.
Over the past decade, researchers have also come to
recognize the diversity and complexity of chil