were never of deep interest to me. I did, however, value the fact that I was in a position of leadership, and with leadership opportunities came opportunities to make a positive difference.
The curriculum and instruction program was broader and more flexible than the program in administration, so my friends encouraged me to make an appointment to meet with the department chair, Jerry Bellon. Most of us, when we reflect on our life, can point to a few moments that radically shifted its trajectory. Such was my meeting with Jerry. Literally, my life and the lives of everyone in my family were changed forever.
Jerry explained that, yes, I would need to apply for admittance to the curriculum and instruction doctoral program. I would also need a faculty doctoral committee to guide my study, and asking someone to chair my committee was an extremely important decision. When he asked whom I thought I would like to chair my doctoral committee, I had no idea how to respond. I had taken a philosophy class from a professor who seemed to be encouraging, open-minded, and flexible, so I mentioned him as a possibility. Jerry responded by asking me to take a few days to think about it.
Throughout the years when Jerry and I would get together and reminisce about those early days together, we would laugh about how long it took me to figure out what Jerry was trying his best to convey: perhaps Jerry himself would be an excellent person to chair my doctoral studies! Jerry had to keep asking, “So, Bob, have you given any more thought about the chair of your committee?” And invariably, after I would mention a name, Jerry would tell me to give it some thought and then come back and see him. It was perhaps our fourth meeting during which the light bulb finally clicked on and I said, “I was wondering if you would be willing to chair my doctoral committee.” Not only did Jerry agree to chair my committee, but we also began to talk about a graduate assistantship. I have often thought about what my life experiences would have been had Jerry simply agreed to another chairperson for my studies.
To say that Jerry had presence doesn’t do him justice. He was a strong person, both intellectually and physically. When Jerry was in a room, he became the center of the conversation. People gravitated to the power of his personality. Balancing this commanding personality was a good heart. Jerry was adamantly opposed to discrimination of any kind. He was demanding and fair. He had high expectations but was always willing to help. His professional career was on an upward flight, and he was willing to take me—and others—along with him.
Jerry had first become interested in improving classroom instruction while he was a doctoral student at Berkeley and later in his work as a faculty member at Stanislaus State, in California. With his friend and colleague Dick Jones, he began to sharpen his thinking around a concept and practices that at the time were referred to as clinical supervision. Importantly, Jerry also had developed a reputation as an effective consultant to schools and districts that were interested in improving classroom instruction and, ultimately, student learning through the clinical supervision process.
While working on my degree, I focused on the clinical supervision process in addition to the typical course of study, and Jerry began to include me in his consulting work, primarily in the western suburbs of Chicago and in districts on Long Island. Throughout my years in Knoxville, and later at Middle Tennessee State University, I continued to do consulting work with Jerry. Additionally, Jerry, Dick Jones, Jim Huffman, and I authored Classroom Supervision and Instructional Improvement (Bellon, Eaker, Huffman, & Jones, 1976). Almost immediately, I began to understand the added benefit of connecting consulting and publishing. Consulting was the perfect vehicle for connecting research and practice. While my publishing efforts were important, especially in the world of higher education, the practical upshot was increasingly being asked to speak at conferences or consult with schools and districts. I learned that publishing and consulting were inextricably linked. More importantly, these formative years gave me confidence and insights into working with schools and districts of all sizes and laid the groundwork for my own consulting work that was to follow.
A Brief History of Classroom Supervision
To fully understand the emergence of a clinical approach to supervision in the 1960s, I find it helpful to place it in a historical context. The supervision of classroom instruction in U.S. public schools has continually evolved and continues to do so with an emphasis on student testing, teacher evaluation, and enhanced accountability. In 1976, in Classroom Supervision and Instructional Improvement, we wrote, “A look at the historical development of supervision indicates that supervision has sometimes been detrimental, sometimes helpful, sometimes useless, but usually maligned” (Bellon et al., 1976, p. 3). This observation still rings true.
Supervision of schools and classrooms in colonial America is often described as the period of administrative inspection, which was predominant until roughly 1900. During the early years of schooling in America, there was little concern for improving teachers. Supervisory practices were heavily top-down, and the remedy for poor instruction or classroom management was simply to replace the teacher—a cure currently regaining popularity.
During the first part of the 20th century, influenced by the work of Frederick Taylor and his promotion of scientific management as a means for improving organizational effectiveness and efficiency, supervision practices shifted to focus on research and measurement. The role of the supervisor during this period was to discover the best instructional and classroom management methods and procedures and then ensure that teachers utilized these approaches, often by making unannounced classroom observations.
Clearly, this kind of supervision was not a cooperative endeavor. That began to change in the 1930s, when human relations became emphasized. The human relations approach suggested that supervisors and teachers work together to help teachers realize their potential for improving instruction. The new democratic supervision diminished the authority of supervisors and their perceived threat to teachers. This wane was further influenced by the rapid expansion of schools after World War II, which overwhelmed administrators with administrative and maintenance issues and consequently left less time for instructional improvement.
The increased emphasis on management issues and proclivity to democratic thought led to a virtual absence of serious efforts to actively improve the classroom instruction of individual teachers. This hands-off approach has been referred to as a period of laissez-faire supervision (Bellon et al., 1976).
During the 1950s, new strategies such as microteaching, interaction analysis, and the use of performance objectives and goal setting were introduced and showed much promise as ways to help individual teachers improve their classroom performance. These initiatives set the stage for the Harvard-Newton Project at Harvard University, led by Morris Cogan (1973).
The Emergence of a Clinical Approach to Improving Classroom Instruction
The instructional improvement framework that Cogan and his associates developed is referred to as a clinical approach because of its emphasis on direct, objective, trained observation of classroom behaviors. In a clinical supervision approach, the supervisor (the observer) eschews personal bias and does not deal in generalities; rather, the observer focuses on specific behaviors of both students and teachers that occur during the lesson. The foundation of the clinical supervision process (which was refined by Jerry Bellon) is grounded in the following four basic assumptions that drive the entire process.
Assumption One
Teaching is a set of identifiable patterns of behavior. This assumption is based on the belief that together supervisors and teachers can identify specific, observable, recurring actions and techniques that form the core of a given teacher’s classroom instruction.
Assumption Two
When selected patterns of teaching behavior are changed, improvement of instruction can be achieved. Teaching is a set of complex, interconnected, and recurring verbal and physical actions. The underlying assumption is that improvement is more likely to occur when specific patterns of teaching are isolated for observation and study.
Assumption Three
The supervisor-teacher relationship must be built on mutual trust if change is to take