edited: tabatha griffin - bsl catalogue

2013 postgraduate research papers: a compendium

Edited: Tabatha Griffin NATIONAL CENTRE FOR VOCATIONAL EDUCATION RESEARCH

NCVER Building Researcher Capacity Postgraduate Program 2013 participants

NATIONAL VOCATIONAL EDUCATION AND TRAINING RESEARCH PROGRAM

COMPENDIUM

2013 postgraduate research papers: a compendium

Edited by Tabatha Griffin National Centre for Vocational Education Research

Participants in the NCVER Building Researcher Capacity Postgraduate Program 2013

The views and opinions expressed in this document are those of the authors/

project teams and do not necessarily reflect the views of the Australian Government,

state and territory governments or NCVER.

Any interpretation of data is the responsibility of the authors/project teams.

NATIONAL VOCATIONAL EDUCATION AND TRAINING RESEARCH PROGRAM

COMPENDIUM

As part of the National Centre for Vocational Education Research (NCVER) Building Researcher

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paper on some aspect of their research. This provided participants with the opportunity to

compete in a funding round and have their research peer-reviewed and released by NCVER in

VOCEDplus.

For more information see: <http://www.ncver.edu.au/research/funding.html>.

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About the research 2013 postgraduate research papers: a compendium

Edited by Tabatha Griffin, National Centre for Vocational Education Research

As part of an NCVER initiative to build research capacity in the sector, postgraduate students were

invited to apply for a small grant to write a paper on some aspect of their research that aligns with

the national research priorities for tertiary education and training. The papers of the seven successful

applicants have been compiled into this compendium.

The papers span a broad range of topics, including: addressing social exclusion in refugee immigrants;

the labour market outcomes of Indigenous graduates; enhancing employability skills; transparency in

the vocational education and training (VET) sector; social media as a learning environment; the use of

immersive computer game environments in vocational education and training; and the experience of

Indigenous people in the rail industry.

These papers provide an insight into the breadth of research currently being conducted by

postgraduate students in Australia.

Rod Camm

Managing Director, NCVER

NCVER 5

Contents Introduction — Tabatha Griffin 6

Labour market outcomes of Indigenous university graduates in Australia —

Ian Li 8

‘We were all involved with the line’ : Indigenous experience in rail —

Katie Maher 29

Enhancing employability skills and graduate attributes through

work-integrated learning — Leanne Baker 51

Refugee immigrants: addressing social exclusion by promoting agency

in the Australian VET sector — Gerald Onsando 76

Social media as a learning environment: how, why, where and when

people learn — Gail Casey 97

Increasing engagement with vocational education and training: a case study of

computer games-based safety training — Mark O’Rourke 113

Transparency: tracing its journey into vocational education and training —

Don Zoellner 134

Building researcher capacity initiative 159

6 2013 postgraduate research papers: a compendium

Introduction Tabatha Griffin NCVER

The National Centre for Vocational Education Research (NCVER) is committed to building research

capacity in the vocational education and training (VET) sector by encouraging early-career

researchers. One recent initiative was to invite postgraduate students to apply for a small grant to

write a paper on some aspect of their postgraduate research that aligns with the national research

priorities for tertiary education and training. This provided the opportunity for up-and-coming

researchers to submit a grant application and, if successful, to write a paper for publication by

NCVER. This compendium is a collection of the papers submitted by the successful applicants.

The authors have conducted research on a diverse range of topics through their postgraduate studies,

touching on many different elements of the VET sector. Two papers consider different aspects of

Indigenous participation in training. The first, by Ian Li of the University of Western Australia,

investigates the labour market outcomes of Australian higher education graduates, comparing the

performance of Indigenous and non-Indigenous people (as of four months after graduating). Through

an analysis of the Australian Graduate Survey, the research indicated that Indigenous graduates

perform reasonably well in the labour market. In fact, Indigenous graduates were less likely to find

themselves in a situation where their qualification is considered to be in excess of their job

requirements. Interestingly, the wage gap between Indigenous and non-Indigenous graduates was

found to be 3%, which is smaller than that found in other earlier studies. However, the data used in

the study do not allow the longer-term outcomes to be considered.

The second paper with a focus on Indigenous Australians, by Katie Maher of the University of South

Australia, considers the experiences of Indigenous people in the rail industry. The author proposes

that understanding the role that Indigenous people played in the development of the railways can

support Indigenous engagement in the current industry. Through an analysis of oral, written and visual

records, she demonstrates that Indigenous people have a rich history of applying and developing skills

in the rail industry. In the current industry, Indigenous people continue to face issues in the

workplace, despite various Indigenous employment policies and programs. The author argues that

understanding the perspectives of past generations of Indigenous rail workers can inform the current

issues faced by Indigenous people in the workplace.

A combination of refugee immigrants’ past and present experiences can restrict their capability to

fully participate in, and contribute to, Australian society. The social exclusion experienced by refugee

immigrants can make it difficult for refugees to participate fully in education and training. Gerald

Onsando from Griffith University argues that the Australian VET sector could assist refugee

immigrants’ resettlement by restoring their capability to exercise personal agency. He suggests that

this could be achieved through the provision of services that acknowledges their challenging personal

experiences. His paper culminates in a series of recommendations for how the VET sector could

address personal agency and social exclusion issues for refugee immigrants.

The research by Leanne Baker from Southern Cross University is based on the suggestion that

universities do not have a strong tradition of engaging employers in curriculum development or the

quality assurance of courses. Unlike in vocational education and training, many university courses are

not directly linked to a particular occupation, rendering employer engagement more difficult and not

NCVER 7

necessarily useful. However, some university courses, such as those in the tourism and hospitality

area, would benefit from input from potential employers. This paper reports on a program that

demonstrates how universities can better integrate the process of providing employers with a voice on

training requirements and expectations. In particular, it examines how employers think graduates

measure up against a set of 15 employability skills, as demonstrated while participating in work

placements, and how this information can be fed back into course development.

In a world of rapidly advancing information and communication technology, two papers consider the

use of new technologies in teaching. In the first, Gail Casey from Deakin University examines the use

of social media as a learning environment. Through this action research project, an online social

network was implemented in a high school environment, where students could interact and share

information. The research explored three areas of focus: what the teacher would have to do

differently; how students will participate differently; and what learning would look like through the

use of social networks. The findings of the high school study were then used to explore the

introduction of social networking into a tertiary education environment. One of the most useful

outcomes of the research was that the social network enabled the creation of a learning partnership

between the students and the teacher, where content delivery moved from teacher instruction to

peer-to-peer supported learning. The practical findings of this paper would be of interest to any

course coordinator who wants to introduce these types of technologies into their courses.

In the second paper with a technology focus, Mark O’Rourke from Victoria University reports on the

development and use of computer games-based training in the VET sector. This paper describes a case

study implemented in the construction industry, where a computer game to teach worksite safety was

developed and tested with students. Overall, the technology was well received by the students, who

reported they preferred that style of learning compared with more traditional class room styles due to

the hands-on and interactive experience. Some teachers, however, were initially apprehensive about

introducing the game into their course due to their own lack of experience with technology. These

reservations were overcome through further development of the game tutorial system to cater for

users with lower familiarity with games-based learning tools. The paper also describes the difficulties

encountered during the development of the game and how these were overcome.

Don Zoellner from Charles Darwin University tells a story, in his paper, of how the concept of

transparency has evolved over time, its adoption into public policy, and in particular, the impacts

that the concept has had on the VET sector. The paper argues that, while the goal of transparency is

to make aspects of the VET system more visible, it inevitably makes some things invisible (such as

local detail being invisible in large data collections). The author suggests that despite the goal of

transparency being to ensure that governments are accountable to the public, the concept has been

transformed into a requirement for citizens and training providers to make their actions transparent

to government.

While these seven papers are quite disparate in the elements of the VET sector they investigate,

together they demonstrate the breadth of interest and research that is currently being conducted by

postgraduates in Australia.


Labour market outcomes of Indigenous university graduates in Australia Ian Li The University of Western Australia

Abstract Indigenous Australians experience disadvantage in many aspects. It is well documented in the

literature, for instance, that Indigenous Australians have a much poorer life expectancy and health

outcomes compared with non-Indigenous Australians. Furthermore, a number of studies indicate that

Indigenous Australians lag behind non-Indigenous Australians in terms of educational attainment, as

well as labour market participation and income. These gaps in health and socioeconomic outcomes

are further exacerbated by the fact that they are interrelated, and disadvantages in one area tend to

lead to disadvantage in another area. Policy approaches to closing the gap in Indigenous disadvantage

would therefore have to be multi-faceted and take diverse approaches, including changes to

education and labour market policies. This study takes a look at the labour market outcomes of

Australian graduates and compares the performance of Indigenous and non-Indigenous graduates, as

this information can help shed some light on the efficacy of the policies that have been put in place

to aid Indigenous higher education participation and performance. The labour market outcomes of the

graduates are also assessed using the Overeducation, Required education and Undereducation (ORU)

framework, which explores labour market outcomes in the context of education level and job

(mis)matches.

A number of findings arise from the analysis of Indigenous and non-Indigenous graduates in this study.

First, Indigenous Australians are underrepresented in higher education, and policies which promote

Indigenous higher education participation are particularly welcome. Second, Indigenous graduates are

less likely to be in a situation where their qualification is considered to be in excess of their job

requirements (known as overeducation), compared with non-Indigenous graduates. This is a positive

finding for Indigenous Australians, as overeducation has been linked to earnings penalties. Third, the

Indigenous graduate wage gap is around 3%, which is much smaller than the Indigenous wage gaps

reported in other studies of the general Australian population. Fourth, other findings on the

determinants of overeducation and graduate earnings suggest that there are only very modest

differences in the way Indigenous and non-Indigenous graduates are treated and rewarded in the

labour market. In summary, these findings indicate that Indigenous graduates perform reasonably well

in the labour market, and thus policies that target Indigenous higher education participation,

completion and performance appear to be paying off.

NCVER 9

Introduction

This paper examines labour market outcomes of Indigenous university graduates in Australia, in the

context of various higher education policies aimed at furthering Indigenous participation and

performance in higher education. Indigenous people in Australia have been found to experience

disadvantage across several measures, including health, education and wealth (Steering Committee

for the Review of Government Service Provision 2009). As Altman (2007, p.2) states:

this population demonstrated many characteristics, according to the 2001 Census, that are

distinctly Third World: nearly 40 percent are aged less than 15 years (reflecting high fertility);

only eight percent live beyond 55 years of age (reflecting very low life expectancy); levels of

formal employment are extremely low (only 18 percent have wages and salaries as their main

source of income and another 28 percent work for the dole); education levels are low (only one in

20 has a post-school qualification in very remote Australia); household income levels are low; and

people are poorly housed, often living in extremely over-crowded conditions.

Furthermore, a report found that Indigenous Australians had a life expectancy ten years shorter than

non-Indigenous Australians, among other health disadvantages (Thomson et al. 2011). Thus,

Indigenous health has been identified as a priority area for reform, and policy measures such as the

‘Close the Gap’ campaign and the prioritising of Indigenous health research have been initiated to

address this disadvantage (Australian Human Rights Commission 2009; NHMRC 2012).

Substantial gaps can also be found for other socioeconomic indicators for Indigenous Australians. A

study by Altman and Hunter (1998) found that Indigenous Australians were up to three times more

likely to be living in poverty, compared with non-Indigenous Australians. Furthermore, two prominent

facts that have been uncovered in the literature evaluating the labour market are that compared with

their non-Indigenous peers, Indigenous Australians experience much poorer labour market outcomes

and have lower incomes (ABS 2011; Ross 2006; Taylor et al. 2012).

It is apparent, therefore, that Indigenous Australians face disadvantages on many fronts. Furthermore,

many studies have argued that there is a link between these social, economic and health factors.

Marmot (2005), for example, argued that the poorer health outcomes faced by the Indigenous

Australians can be substantially attributed to their disadvantageous position on the social gradient.

This is supported by evidence in other studies, which document the impacts and interaction among

these three factors (Grossman 1976; Kawachi & Kennedy 1999; Ross & Wu 1995; Schnittker 2004).

Strategies to address Indigenous disadvantage would, therefore, need to be diverse and include

changes to education and other policies targeted at socioeconomic outcomes.

Furthermore, it has been noted that Indigenous Australians have much lower rates of participation in

higher education compared with non-Indigenous Australians. While gains have been made in closing

the gap in Indigenous educational participation and attainment, Indigenous higher education

participation had been found to be on the decline (Altman, Biddle & Hunter 2008). This is despite the

finding that a university degree has been found to bring the largest economic benefits for Indigenous

students (Biddle 2007).

In 2012, the Review of Higher Education Outcomes and Access for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander

People (hereafter known as the Review) was completed (DIISRTE 2013b). This review found that

Indigenous participation in higher education was well below Indigenous representation in the working-

age population, and hence called for collaborative efforts between governments, universities,

enterprise, schools and Indigenous communities to improve Indigenous participation in higher

education. Following the Review, the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Higher Education Advisory


Council was convened to provide policy advice on Indigenous higher education, research and research

training issues. There have also been other higher education policy programs that are aimed at

increasing Indigenous participation in higher education as well as higher education outcomes. These

include the provision of awards or scholarships which support Indigenous students in higher education,

the establishment of Indigenous Higher Education Centres in universities, the provision of grants to

higher education providers through the Indigenous Support Program, and the Indigenous Tutorial

Assistance Scheme for Tertiary Tuition, which funds supplementary tuition to Indigenous students

(DIISRTE 2013a).1

Thus, this study will contribute to the literature and inform Indigenous higher education policy in

Australia by examining the labour market outcomes of Indigenous graduates. In doing so, it will provide

information on the labour market absorption and outcomes of Indigenous graduates in Australia. This

information is important for at least two reasons. First, the labour market outcomes of Indigenous

graduates are partly a reflection on how universities have prepared them for the labour market.

Second, as mentioned above, targeting Indigenous disadvantage requires a multi-pronged approach, and

hence assessing the performance of Indigenous graduates in the labour market will contribute valuable

information on Indigenous outcomes in higher education. As the benefits associated with attaining a

degree qualification would include increased earnings, it would be useful to have information and

comparisons on the labour market earnings of Indigenous and non-Indigenous graduates.

In addition, the labour market performance of the Indigenous graduates in this study will be assessed

using the overeducation, required education and undereducation (ORU) framework. The ORU

framework considers whether individuals are appropriately matched to their jobs when considering

their education levels. Recent studies of the Australian graduate labour market, such as that by Kler

(2005) and Li and Miller (2012; 2013b) have found large incidences of overeducation, whereby

graduates are employed in jobs below their level of education. In addition, the earnings penalties

associated with overeducation have been found to be substantial. Therefore, an analysis of the

Indigenous graduates from this labour market perspective will be useful.2

The remainder of this paper is organised in the following manner. The next section reviews the

literature on the labour market outcomes of the Indigenous Australians and recent Australian studies

on overeducation. The following section presents the definition and measurement of overeducation

and describes the data used in this study. The determinants of overeducation in the Australian

graduate labour market, with a particular focus on the differences for Indigenous and non-Indigenous

graduates are explored in the next section. An examination of the determinants of earnings for

Indigenous and non-Indigenous graduates follows, while a conclusion, including policy and future

research implications, is offered in the last section.

1 Note that these programs are specifically targeted at Indigenous participation and outcomes in the higher education

sector. Other programs that target Indigenous socioeconomic disadvantage, such as the Remote Jobs and Communities program (formerly known as the Community Development Employment Projects) exist, but are not discussed in this study.

2 It is noteworthy that studies (such as Battu, Belfield & Sloane 1999) have found that overeducation is also associated with adverse effects on non-monetary outcomes such as job satisfaction, although this will not be explored in the current paper due to data unavailability.

NCVER 11

Literature review Indigenous disadvantage in the labour market

A substantial amount of literature examines the labour market outcomes of Indigenous Australians,

often by comparison with non-Indigenous Australians. Borooah and Mangan (2002), for example, found

that Indigenous Australians were disadvantaged in securing employment in higher level professional

and managerial jobs and were disproportionately represented in lower level semi-skilled or unskilled

jobs. However, one important finding from Borooah and Mangan’s (2002) study was that Indigenous

females were primarily disadvantaged in the labour market as a result of lower levels of attributes

such as education, and hence argued that this labour market disadvantage might be overcome

relatively easily through investments in their human capital endowments (p.46). This was also noted

by Norris (2001), who also found that Indigenous Australians have been closing the gap in terms of

skills attainment and employment in skilled occupations.

Further, Norris (2001) noted that Australian Indigenous disadvantage could also be observed in a range

of other employment outcomes. Norris’s (2001) study used data from the Australian Bureau of

Statistics (ABS), and showed that Indigenous Australians have an unemployment rate up to six times

that of other non-Indigenous Australians. While this discrepancy in unemployment was narrowed when

the focus was turned to individuals with higher education qualifications, a substantial gap remains.

Specifically, the unemployment rate for Indigenous Australians was roughly twice that for non-

Indigenous Australians, when considering those with university degrees and diplomas (Norris 2001).

These gaps in employment outcomes still persist, according to data from the 2011 Australian Census,

where the unemployment rate for Indigenous Australians was reported to be more than three times

that for non-Indigenous Australians, at 17% (Thomson et al. 2011).

Substantial disparities in income were also reported in previous studies. Specifically, Indigenous

Australians had median incomes roughly 85% of that for all Australian workers, across different

education levels (Norris 2001). In addition, the income gap was more pronounced in certain sub-

groups of the Indigenous sample. For example, the income gap for Indigenous Australians aged 25 to

44 years was the largest, and Indigenous Australians in this age group had median incomes that were

only 61% of all Australian workers in the same age group. The Indigenous income gap was also larger

for the Indigenous peoples living in remote areas.

An earlier study by Daly (1994) examined the determinants of the Indigenous income gap in Australia,

and drew a number of conclusions. First, Indigenous Australians were found to be less likely to be in

full-time employment. Second, this study found that Indigenous Australians had incomes lower than

their non-Indigenous counterparts. The income gap was larger, at around 9%, for Indigenous males,

while Indigenous females had incomes up to 6.5% lower, relative to the non-Indigenous male and

female samples, respectively. Third, and more strikingly, a decomposition analysis of this income gap

found that the Indigenous income disadvantage is substantially caused by differences in human capital

endowments, such as education. This finding was particularly relevant for Indigenous females, as Daly

(1994) found that human capital endowment differences also accounted for the entire income gap

between Indigenous and non-Indigenous females. Thus, it is important to look at the impact of

education on the labour market outcomes of Indigenous people in Australia, particularly for

Indigenous graduates, as the amount of information in this area is much more limited.


The ORU framework

Conventional studies of labour market outcomes generally adopt the human capital framework. A

large amount of these studies have been devoted to the analysis of how education, among other

factors, impact on earnings. In effect, these empirical studies yield estimates of the rate of return

from education, and a survey of this literature by Psacharopoulos and Patrinos (2004) concludes that

investment in education is generally very profitable.

In more recent years, there has been substantial interest in how individuals are matched to their jobs

in the labour market. This literature is known as the ORU literature. The ORU concept originated from

Freeman’s (1976) seminal study of college graduates in the US, although the methodological

framework used in contemporary studies of ORU is based on Duncan and Hoffman (1981).

Studies of ORU are considered an extension of the human capital model, in that it considers the

labour market effects of the utilisation of human capital endowments such as education, in addition

to the effects of obtaining education. In other words, the ORU approach introduces labour market

demand specifications into the human capital model, which has traditionally captured the earnings

effects of labour market supply characteristics. Therefore, while conventional empirical studies

examine the rate of return on attainment of education, studies which use the ORU framework also

analyse how the rate of return on education is affected by how well (or not) the education obtained is

utilised. Briefly put, conventional studies estimate the returns from actual education, whereas studies

using the ORU specification estimate the returns from surplus (overeducation), usual (required) and

lower (undereducation) amounts of education.

In the ORU framework, whether an individual is matched or mismatched to his or her job is based on

the education level attained, in comparison with a defined benchmark that captures the requirements

of the job (Duncan & Hoffman 1981).3 Thus, individuals may be grouped into one of three categories.

First, individuals who attained educational levels higher than the benchmark for their occupations are

considered overeducated. Second, individuals who attained educational levels lower than the

education benchmark for their occupations are considered undereducated. Finally, individuals who

attained educational levels the same as the educational level defined as the benchmark for their

occupations are considered correctly matched.

The substantial literature on ORU has also led to divergence in the empirical framework in terms of

defining ORU status and the estimation methodology. These have been discussed at length in earlier

studies. Hartog (2000) provides a detailed explanation of the various approaches generally used in

defining ORU, as well as the pros and cons associated with each approach. Nevertheless, Hartog

(2000) has noted that the choice of approach is dictated by data availability. Discussion of theoretical

labour market concepts and how they relate to ORU, as well as various empirical frameworks and

methodological issues can be found in McGuinness (2006). Hartog (2000) and McGuinness (2006) have

both argued that, notwithstanding the diversity of approaches and estimation strategies in the ORU

literature, the findings with respect to earnings effects are qualitatively similar and robust.

Two important findings from the literature are highlighted here. First, the incidence of education—job

mismatch (overeducation or undereducation) is generally quite high. Hartog’s (2000) survey of the

ORU literature reported incidences of overeducation ranging from 18 to 42%, while McGuinness’s

3 In some studies, the individual’s education is expressed in terms of years of schooling instead of levels. However, the

review of the literature here will express the concepts here in terms of education levels, where possible, to avoid confusion as the present study uses education levels in the analysis. It is noted that the qualitative meanings do not differ regardless of the concepts used.

NCVER 13

(2006) survey found incidences of up to 45%. These surveys looked at studies from developed

countries, including the Netherlands, Portugal, Ireland, the UK and the US. The high incidences of

education mismatch have also been reported in more recent studies (Caroll & Tani 2012; Li & Miller

2013b; Tsai 2010).

Second, while the overeducated experience positive returns on their surplus levels of education, these

returns are smaller than the returns from required levels of education. That is, an overeducated

individual can expect higher earnings on the basis of his or her higher level of education (compared

with someone else with lower levels of education), but will earn less than his or her counterpart who

has the same level of education and is working in a job that matches the education level. Miller (2007),

who surveyed the Australian literature, notes that these differences in the returns from education are

even more exaggerated when sub-groups of the population, such as migrants, are examined.

Recent studies have found that overeducation remains substantial in the Australian labour market,

particularly for university graduates. Kler (2005) reported that around 46% of Australian graduates

were overeducated. Another study by Li and Miller (2013b) reported an average incidence of

overeducation of 45% for Australian bachelor’s degree graduates, from 1999 to 2009. Carroll and Tani

(2012) have found that between 24 and 37% of Australian bachelor’s degree graduates were

overeducated shortly after the completion of their studies. These figures are comparable, and

indicate that overeducation is rather prevalent in the Australian graduate labour market. However,

Carroll and Tani (2012) also found that the incidence of overeducation was reduced three years after

graduation, especially for younger graduates.

A separate study by Li and Miller (2013a) explored the determinants of overeducation for bachelor

degree graduates in Australia using a logit model and found that the university attended had modest

effects on the probability of overeducation, although these do not appear to be linked to university

prestige, as measured by university rankings. Fields of study, however, are strong determinants of

graduate overeducation, with graduates from the various fields of study experiencing up to 57

percentage points difference in the probability of being overeducated. Specifically, graduates in the

natural and physical sciences field were most likely to be overeducated, while graduates from nursing

were the least likely to be overeducated.

These studies have also uncovered adverse earnings effects associated with overeducation. Kler

(2005), for example, reported that Australian graduates experienced a return of around 5% from

surplus education (overeducation), but this was much lower than the returns from required education,

at around 12%. Li and Miller (2013b) reported that overeducated graduates experienced an earnings

disadvantage of 12% relative to their well-matched peers. The earnings disadvantages are

exacerbated when the extent of overeducation is greater (Li & Miller 2013a). Given the prevalence of

overeducation in the Australian graduate labour market, as well as the substantial earnings

disadvantage associated with it, a study of Indigenous graduates from the ORU perspective has merit.

Data

The study uses data drawn from the 1999—2011 waves of the Australian Graduate Survey (AGS), which

is an annual census of all graduates from Australian universities. The AGS is a cross-sectional dataset

which offers a rich array of information on the graduates’ demographics, as well as university and

employment characteristics.

The response rates over 1999 to 2011 have been in the mid-60s range, with an average response rate

of 62%. A study by Guthrie and Johnson (1997) examined issues relating to non-response to the AGS,


and concluded that the AGS can be considered to be nationally representative of the graduate labour

market in Australia.

The AGS 1999—2011 had a total of 1 440 513 respondents. In the present study, the sample will be

restricted to graduates who had completed a bachelor’s pass degree or higher qualification, and who

were employed in Australia at the time of the survey. Furthermore, graduates with missing

information on the variables used in the analysis are removed from the sample. The variables used in

the analysis are hourly wage, level of qualification, age, double degree, sector of employment,

industry of employment, occupation, length of employment contract, hours of work, language

background, residency status, gender and self-employment status. There are 745 680 observations in

the final sample.

Measurement of educational mismatch and descriptive statistics

Measurement of educational mismatch

The study adopts the ‘job analysis’ approach in defining ORU. The ‘job analysis’ approach uses a job

dictionary, which indicates the level of education or qualification necessary to perform a job or

occupation. The individual’s actual educational attainment is then compared with the education

required by the job dictionary to perform his or her occupation. As mentioned in the literature

review, individuals may be classified into one of three ORU statuses: overeducated; undereducated,

and; correctly matched.

The AGS has coded occupation data according to the Australian Standard Classification of Occupations

(ASCO) from 1999 to 2005, and the Australian New Zealand Standard Classification of Occupations

(ANZSCO) from 2006 to 2011 (ABS 1997, 2009). For the purposes of the analysis, the occupation data

from 2006 to 2011 were recoded from the ANZSCO format into the ASCO format, using the ANZSCO to

ASCO correspondence table published by the ABS (ABS 2009). The minimum levels of education

required for each occupation were also defined in the ASCO, and these were used to assess the ORU

status of the graduates.

The ASCO states that the minimum level of education for the various occupations could be a

certificate, diploma or bachelor’s degree (ABS 1997). For example, associate professionals are

classified as occupations where certificates are minimum qualifications. Conversely, accountant is an

occupation where the minimum level of qualification is a bachelor’s degree.

Thus, the graduates are automatically classified as being overeducated if they are in a certificate or

diploma-level job, as the lowest qualification of the graduates in the study are bachelor’s pass degree

graduates. Furthermore, as the lowest qualification in the sample is a bachelor’s pass degree, none of

the graduates can be considered to be undereducated. Bachelor’s pass degree graduates who work in

a bachelor’s degree-level job are considered correctly matched. Finally, postgraduates are also, by

definition, considered overeducated, as they would have education levels above the highest job

requirement of bachelor’s pass degrees.

NCVER 15

Descriptive statistics

The summary statistics of the sample are presented in table 1. Comments on some variables of

interest are offered. First, the proportion of Indigenous graduates in the sample is very low, at 0.6%.

This figure is commensurate with figures on Indigenous higher education participation in the Review of

Higher Education Access and Outcomes for Aboriginal and Torres Straits Islander People report

(DIISRTE 2013b).4 Figures from the 2011 Census indicate that Indigenous people account for around

2.5% of the Australian population, and they are thus underrepresented in higher education (ABS 2012).

Second, while female representation in the sample is high for the non-Indigenous sample, at 61%, it is

even higher for the Indigenous sample, at 67%. The high proportion of female Indigenous graduates

was also noted in the Review (DIISRITE 2013b). The mean age of Indigenous graduates is also higher,

at 33 years, compared with 30 years for the non-Indigenous graduates.

Third, the Indigenous and non-Indigenous samples attain similar levels of postgraduate degrees.

However, there are some differences in their major fields studied. While the proportions of each

sample who studied agriculture and environment are the same, modest differences can be observed

for the remaining fields of study. The most pronounced difference is in the field of education, which

accounts for 18% of Indigenous graduates, compared with 13% of their non-Indigenous counterparts.

There are also slightly larger proportions of Indigenous graduates in health, society and culture and

creative arts, compared with non-Indigenous graduates. Conversely, non-Indigenous graduates are

slightly more represented in the fields of natural and physical science, information technology,

engineering, architecture, and management and commerce.

Fourth, much larger proportions of Indigenous graduates are employed in the public sector (61%) than

non-Indigenous graduates (41%). Conversely, lower proportions of Indigenous graduates are employed

in the private sector (32%) compared with non-Indigenous graduates (54%), while the proportion

employed in all other sectors are similar. The mean hourly wage, expressed in logarithmic format, for

both samples are similar, at 3.224 and 3.251 for non-Indigenous and Indigenous graduates,

respectively. In dollar terms, Indigenous graduates have a mean hourly wage that was seventy cents

higher than their non-Indigenous counterparts. This suggests that Indigenous graduates are marginally

better off in terms of labour market earnings, compared with non-Indigenous graduates.

Finally, the proportion of non-Indigenous graduates who are considered overeducated is 65%, which

is modestly higher than the 61% observed for Indigenous graduates. These figures indicate that

overeducation is prevalent for all graduates in Australia and also suggest that Indigenous graduates

fare better with respect to this labour market outcome. This is explored in greater detail in the

next section.

4 Specifically, the Review noted that the Indigenous people accounted for only 1.4% of university enrolments in 2010,

and also noted that only 40.8% of Indigenous students who commenced their university degree in 2009 completed the degree by 2012.


Table 1 Descriptive statistics

Variable Pooled sample

Non-Indigenous graduates

Indigenous graduates

Demographic characteristics

Aboriginal or Torres Straits Islander (omitted category = non-Indigenous graduates)

0.006

Female (omitted category = male) 0.611 0.611 0.669

Age (continuous variable) 29.600 29.582 32.569

Age squared (continuous variable) 967.738 966.476 1167.849

Physical or mental disability (omitted category = with no disability)

0.024 0.023 0.065

Non-English speaking background (omitted category = from English speaking background)

0.173 0.173 0.080

Not of Australian residency status (omitted category = with Australian residency status)

0.046 0.046 0.007

Education

Bachelor’s pass degree (omitted category) 0.560 0.559 0.597

Bachelor’s degree with honours 0.068 0.068 0.057

Masters degree 0.155 0.155 0.125

Other postgraduate 0.185 0.185 0.199

PhD 0.032 0.032 0.022

Double degree (omitted category = those in a single degree program)

0.087 0.087 0.075

Engaged in further studies (omitted category = not engaged in further studies)

0.189 0.189 0.203

Field of study Natural and physical sciences 0.053 0.053 0.035

Information technology 0.042 0.042 0.022

Engineering 0.079 0.079 0.062

Architecture 0.059 0.060 0.035

Agriculture and environment 0.045 0.045 0.045

Health and related fields 0.139 0.139 0.150

Education 0.134 0.134 0.182

Society and culture 0.191 0.191 0.202

Creative arts and others 0.085 0.085 0.114

Management and commerce (omitted category) 0.172 0.172 0.152

Employment characteristics

Hourly wage, expressed at 2011 levels and in logarithmic format

3.224 3.224 3.251

Self-employed 0.040 0.040 0.034

Employed in public sector 0.407 0.406 0.606

Employed in private sector 0.533 0.535 0.315

Employed in all other sectors (omitted category) 0.006 0.059 0.079

Employment terms of one year or longer (omitted category = employed for duration less than one year or on a casual basis)

0.696 0.696 0.718

Overeducated (omitted category = correctly matched) 0.647 0.647 0.606

Industry of employment Accounting 0.034 0.034 0.012

Retail and wholesale 0.075 0.075 0.040

Accommodation 0.030 0.030 0.015

Manufacturing 0.039 0.039 0.016

Forestry and mining 0.020 0.021 0.017

Legal services 0.024 0.024 0.019

NCVER 17

Variable Pooled sample

Non-Indigenous graduates

Indigenous graduates

Government 0.092 0.091 0.158

Education services 0.146 0.146 0.211

Higher education 0.064 0.064 0.093

Health and communication 0.175 0.175 0.205 Medical and dental services 0.033 0.033 0.044

Construction 0.014 0.014 0.009

Transport and communications 0.031 0.031 0.021

Engineering consulting 0.020 0.020 0.009

Other services 0.055 0.055 0.046

Financial services (omitted category) 0.148 0.148 0.084

Year of graduation

1999 (omitted category) 0.063 0.063 0.052

2000 0.063 0.063 0.054

2001 0.059 0.059 0.045

2002 0.054 0.054 0.058

2003 0.133 0.133 0.128

2004 0.071 0.071 0.067

2005 0.073 0.073 0.092

2006 0.073 0.073 0.062

2007 0.084 0.084 0.076

2008 0.090 0.090 0.092

2009 0.092 0.092 0.096

2010 0.071 0.071 0.081

2011 0.074 0.074 0.097

Observations 745 680 741 006 4 674

Probability of overeducation for Indigenous and non-Indigenous graduates

The determinants of overeducation are explored in this section, with an emphasis on the

determinants of overeducation for Indigenous graduates. The determinants of overeducation will be

explored with a binary logit model, which can be expressed as:

𝑂𝑅𝑈𝑖∗ = 𝛽𝑋𝑖 + 𝜀𝑖, i = 1,…,n (Equation 1)

where 𝑂𝑅𝑈𝑖∗ is a latent index representing the propensity of individual i to be overeducated, 𝑋𝑖 denotes a vector of graduate characteristics that are hypothesised to impact on the probability of

overeducation and 𝛽 denotes a vector of parameters to be estimated. 𝑂𝑅𝑈𝑖∗ is not observed, but

rather a binary indicator variable 𝑂𝑅𝑈𝑖 is measured, where:

𝑂𝑅𝑈𝑖 = 1 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑂𝑅𝑈𝑖∗ ≥ 0

𝑂𝑅𝑈𝑖 = 0 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑂𝑅𝑈𝑖∗ < 0 (Equation 2)

The determinants of ORU are then estimated using the binary logit model:

(𝑃𝑟𝑂𝑅𝑈𝑖 = 1|𝑋𝑖) = 𝑒𝛽𝑋𝑖

1+𝑒𝛽𝑋𝑖 (Equation 3)

The results from the logit model of overeducation are presented in table 2. The logit model was

estimated for the pooled sample of all graduates, and the sub-samples of non-Indigenous and


Indigenous graduates. Panels (i), (iii) and (v) presents the log odds ratio for those samples,

respectively, while the marginal effects are presented in panels (ii), (iv) and (vi). The following

discussion on the results of the logit model will be confined to that for the marginal effects, as a

discussion of the log odds ratio in addition to the marginal effects adds little value.

Some general comments are offered with respect to the results for the three samples. First, the

results for the non-Indigenous sample are very similar to those for the full sample. This is likely to be

due to the vast numerical and proportional representation of non-Indigenous graduates in the full

sample, at 99.4%. Hence, subsequent discussion will be mainly focused on the results for the non-

Indigenous and Indigenous samples.

Second, the pseudo R2 for the non-Indigenous and Indigenous samples are 0.153 and 0.1109,

respectively. Therefore, the model can be said to estimate the probability of overeducation better for

non-Indigenous graduates. This might also be due to the much smaller number of observations in the

Indigenous sample. Furthermore, the number of statistically significant estimates (at the 10, 5 and 1%

levels) for the Indigenous sample is much less than that for the non-Indigenous sample. Again, this

might be due to the smaller Indigenous sample.

The first finding of importance relates to the probability of being overeducated for Indigenous

graduates, in panels (i) and (ii). The estimated marginal effects for Indigenous graduates indicate that

they are 6.3% less likely to be overeducated, relative to non-Indigenous graduates. This implies that

Indigenous graduates actually outperform non-Indigenous graduates with respect to finding a job that

matches their educational attainment.

Attention is now drawn to the marginal effects estimates in panels (iv) and (vi), for the non-

Indigenous and Indigenous graduates, respectively. Female non-Indigenous graduates have a

statistically significant, but economically negligible estimate of being 0.7% more likely to be

overeducated. This finding for female graduates, including postgraduates, is comparable with the

result for bachelor’s degree graduates in Li and Miller (2013a). Specifically, Li and Miller (2013a)

found that female bachelor’s degree graduates were 2% more likely to be overeducated compared

with their male peers. The increased likelihood of female graduates to be overeducated is, however,

only marginal, given their much higher representation in the graduate population. Furthermore,

female Indigenous graduates are estimated to have even more favourable outcomes, and are 3% less

likely to be overeducated relative to male Indigenous graduates.

Graduates with a disability are found to be slightly less likely to be overeducated, at 3%, compared

with graduates without any disability. However, this result is statistically significant at the 1% level

for non-Indigenous graduates but is insignificant for Indigenous graduates. Non-Indigenous graduates

who are from non-English speaking backgrounds and who do not have Australian residency status are

more likely to be overeducated, at an increased probability of 2 and 9%, respectively. Indigenous

graduates who are from non-English speaking backgrounds are 5% more likely to be overeducated,

statistically significant at the 10% level. No statistically significant effects are observed for

differences in residency status for Indigenous graduates.

Graduates with double degrees are substantially less likely to be overeducated, at 12% less, for both

samples, significant at the 1% level. However, statistically significant estimates for graduates who

undertook further study is observed only for non-Indigenous graduates, who are found to have a

modest 5% increase in their probability of being overeducated, relative to their counterparts who did

not engage in further education.

NCVER 19

The field of study is found to be a major determinant of overeducation for the graduates, with

substantial estimates being observed for both samples. In addition, the estimates for both samples are

qualitatively similar, with the sign of the statistically significant estimates being consistent across

both samples. For non-Indigenous graduates, the field of study which has the highest probability of

overeducation is the natural and physical sciences. Non-Indigenous graduates in this field are 8% more

likely to be overeducated relative to their counterparts in management and commerce. Conversely,

non-Indigenous graduates in the field of health are 15% less likely to be overeducated relative to the

same benchmark group. Indigenous graduates in the field of health are also less likely to be

overeducated, at 13%, relative to Indigenous management and commerce graduates. However, the

field of study where the Indigenous graduates have the greatest probability of overeducation, at 9%, is

creative arts and others, followed by natural and physical sciences at 7%. There are thus modest

differences in the field of study effects across the groups of graduates. Nevertheless, the field of

study effects across both samples are consistent in that they are qualitatively similar across all fields,

and there are great variations in the probability of overeducation, by over 20%.

Being employed in the public sector is found to reduce the probability of being overeducated for both

samples, by around 5%, relative to the benchmark groups of those employed in all other sectors.

However, non-Indigenous graduates employed in the private sector are also less likely to be

overeducated, although no statistically significant effects are noted for Indigenous graduates in the

private sector. Likewise, being employed on terms of one year or longer is associated with a 2%

reduced probability of being overeducated for non-Indigenous graduates, relative to non-Indigenous

graduates employed on a casual or short-term basis. Conversely, no statistically significant effects are

observed for Indigenous graduates employed on contracts of one year or more.

In summary, Indigenous graduates have been found to be less likely to be overeducated compared

with non-Indigenous graduates, by around 6%. A number of determinants of overeducation for the

non-Indigenous and Indigenous samples have been discussed, with English speaking background,

double degree completion and field of study being found to be important determinants of

overeducation for the graduates. Most estimates are qualitatively consistent across the Indigenous and

non-Indigenous samples, with the estimated coefficients being consistently signed. Modest

differences, however, exist in terms of the scale of the determinants of overeducation for non-

Indigenous and Indigenous graduates. Most importantly, the relatively positive performance of the

Indigenous graduates suggests that greater higher education participation of Indigenous Australians

should be encouraged, especially when their representation in higher education was found in an

earlier section to be too low.


Table 2 Estimates from the logit model of overeducation

Variables Pooled sample Non-Indigenous Indigenous

Log odds (i)

Marg. eff. (ii)

Log odds (iii)

Marg. eff. (iv)

Log odds (v)

Marg. eff. (vi)

Aboriginal or Torres Straits Islander -0.339*** -0.063***

(9.857) (9.859)

Female 0.039*** 0.007*** 0.040*** 0.007*** -0.143** -0.029**

(6.565) (6.567) (6.769) (6.771) (1.978) (1.981)

Age 0.237*** 0.044*** 0.238*** 0.044*** 0.108*** 0.022***

(111.637) (115.973) (111.488) (115.842) (4.635) (4.673)

Age squared/1000 -2.454*** -0.456*** -2.463*** -0.457*** -0.995*** -0.2040***

(83.416) (85.250) (-83.292) (-85.133) (3.116) (3.127)

Physical or mental disability -0.168*** -0.031*** -0.166*** -0.031*** -0.171 -0.035

(9.257) (9.258) (-9.087) (-9.088) (1.278) (1.279)

Non-English speaking background 0.112*** 0.021*** 0.112*** 0.021*** 0.257* 0.053*

(14.650) (14.655) (14.536) (14.541) (1.911) (1.915)

Not of Australian residency status 0.491*** 0.091*** 0.491*** 0.091*** 0.709 0.146

(32.275) (32.328) (32.244) (32.297) (1.495) (1.496)

Double degree -0.666*** -0.124*** -0.666*** -0.124*** -0.594*** -0.122***

(71.100) (72.021) (-70.910) (-71.829) (4.712) (4.756)

Engaged in further studies 0.253*** 0.047*** 0.254*** 0.047*** 0.134 0.028

(34.123) (34.236) (34.142) (34.255) (1.548) (1.550)

Natural and physical sciences 0.441*** 0.082*** 0.440*** 0.082*** 0.361* 0.074*

(29.805) (29.875) (29.676) (29.746) (1.778) (1.779)

Information technology -0.426*** -0.079*** -0.426*** -0.079*** -0.547** -0.112**

(29.161) (29.224) (-29.084) (-29.148) (2.232) (2.237)

Engineering -0.244*** -0.045*** -0.244*** -0.045*** -0.292* -0.060*

(19.782) (19.802) (-19.765) (-19.785) (1.685) (1.686)

Architecture -0.096*** -0.018*** -0.098*** -0.018*** 0.199 0.041

(6.759) (6.759) (-6.876) (-6.876) (0.920) (0.920)

Agriculture and environment -0.063*** -0.012*** -0.062*** -0.012*** -0.351* -0.072*

(4.040) (4.040) (-3.976) (-3.976) (1.815) (1.817)

Health and related fields -0.816*** -0.152*** -0.818*** -0.152*** -0.642*** -0.132***

(72.753) (73.660) (-72.643) (-73.551) (4.744) (4.791) Education -0.312*** -0.058*** -0.315*** -0.058*** -0.126 -0.026

(29.439) (29.505) (-29.581) (-29.649) (1.072) (1.073)

Society and culture 0.199*** 0.037*** 0.199*** 0.037*** 0.119 0.025

(20.758) (20.786) (20.678) (20.706) (1.014) (1.014)

Creative arts and others 0.084*** 0.016*** 0.081*** 0.015*** 0.431*** 0.088***

(6.757) (6.758) (6.471) (6.471) (3.097) (3.109)

Self-employed -0.123*** -0.023*** -0.122*** -0.023*** -0.312 -0.064

(8.123) (8.124) (-8.080) (-8.080) (1.543) (1.543)

Employed in public sector -0.243*** -0.045*** -0.243*** -0.045*** -0.255* -0.052*

(18.596) (18.620) (-18.510) (-18.534) (1.903) (1.906)

Employed in private sector -0.179*** -0.033*** -0.180*** -0.033*** 0.031 0.006

(13.730) (13.740) (-13.760) (-13.770) (0.218) (0.218)

Employment terms of one year or longer

-0.099*** -0.018*** -0.100*** -0.018*** 0.032 0.007

(15.878) (15.884) (-15.949) (-15.955) (0.431) (0.431)

Constant -3.611*** -3.627*** -1.266***

(89.883) (-89.893) (2.653)

Observations 745 680 741 006 4 674

Pseudo R2 0.152 0.153 0.1109

Notes: Robust ‘t’-statistics are presented in parentheses. *, ** and *** indicate significance at the 10, 5 and 1% levels, respectively. The model included controls for industry of employment and year of graduation.

NCVER 21

Earning differences of Indigenous and non-Indigenous graduates in Australia

This section examines the earnings of Indigenous graduates in Australia, and whether there are any

earnings differences for Indigenous and non-Indigenous graduates in Australia. The determinants of

earnings in the graduate labour market will be analysed with an ORU model of earnings using the

Verdugo and Verdugo (1989) specification. This can be expressed as:

𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑤𝑖 = 𝛽1𝑍𝑖 + 𝛽2𝑒𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑖 + 𝛽3𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑖 + 𝛽4𝐷𝑜𝑖 + 𝜖𝑖 (Equation 4)

where w represents the real hourly wage in 2011 terms, used in the analysis in natural logarithmic

format, 𝑍 represents a vector of characteristics correlated with earnings, educ represents a vector of

dummy variables for level of attained education, exp denotes age and its squared term, which are

used as a proxy for labour market experience, and Do is a dichotomous variable indicating that the

individual is overeducated (Do).

The results from the estimation of equation (4) are presented in table 3. The estimates for the pooled

sample are presented in panel (i), while estimates for non-Indigenous and Indigenous graduates can be

found in panels (ii) and (iii), respectively. The adjusted R2 are 0.146, 0.146 and 0.092 for the pooled,

non-Indigenous and Indigenous samples, respectively. Again, the ORU model of earnings appears to be

a better predictor of earnings variation for the non-Indigenous graduates, compared with Indigenous

graduates. In addition, the estimated coefficients for the pooled and non-Indigenous samples are all

significant at the 1% level, with the exception of the estimate for double degree graduates. In

contrast, more estimated coefficients for Indigenous graduates are not statistically significant. In

particular, the estimates for double degree, non-English speaking background, further studies, natural

and physical sciences, engineering, architecture, self-employment, and employment in the private

sector are not statistically significant. Nevertheless, most of the estimated earnings coefficients for

Indigenous graduates are still significant, and often at the 1% level of significance.

The discussion of the results from the ORU model of earnings for the various samples will take the

following format. First, the Indigenous wage gap will be discussed, based on the estimate in panel (i).

Subsequently, the discussion of results will be focused on the estimates for Indigenous graduates, with

comparisons drawn between corresponding estimates for the non-Indigenous graduates.5,6

Several findings of interest emerge from the results in table 3. First, Indigenous graduates are slightly

disadvantaged in terms of earnings, compared with non-Indigenous graduates (see panel [i]).

Specifically, Indigenous graduates earn 3% less compared with non-Indigenous graduates. However,

this wage gap is relatively low when compared with other studies on the Indigenous wage gap, such as

Daly (1994) and Norris (2001). On this basis, it appears that Indigenous graduates fare reasonably well

in the graduate labour market, and thus Indigenous higher education participation and completion

should be encouraged. However, one further issue that can be explored in this regard relates to the

differences in the Indigenous wage gap, if any, for the graduates at various points on the wage

distribution. Hence, a quantile regression was estimated on equation (4), following the approach of

5 Other results for the pooled sample from panel (i) will not be discussed, as they are very similar to the results for non-

Indigenous graduates and to avoid repetition. 6 Chow tests for statistical difference were also conducted to see if the estimated coefficients differed between the

non-Indigenous and Indigenous samples. This revealed that only four out of the 26 coefficients in table 3 were statistically different for non-Indigenous and Indigenous graduates. These have been denoted by a + beside the variable names. It can also be concluded that the determinants of earnings have similar impacts on Indigenous and non-Indigenous graduates.


McGuinness and Bennett (2007).7 The rationale for this approach, as argued by McGuinness and

Bennett (2007), is that the individual’s position on the wage distribution is an indirect measure of the

individual’s ability. Using the quantile regression approach to examine the Indigenous wage gap will

thus permit an assessment of how the wage gap might differ amongst individuals of varying ability.

Estimates on the variable for Aboriginal and Torres Straits Islander graduates from the quantile

regression are presented in figure 1. Estimates are presented for every decile, and statistically

insignificant estimates are represented by a hollow marker instead of a black marker. Specifically, the

20th and 90th percentile estimates are statistically insignificant, while the remaining are significant

at the 10, 5 or 1% level of significance. There are two noteworthy findings here. First, the range of

the estimates is very narrow. The estimated Indigenous wage gaps at various points of the wage

distribution range from -0.016 to 0.021. There is thus only a small 3.7-percentage-point difference in

the Indigenous wage gap, across the wage distribution. Second, it appears that only the Indigenous

graduates in the lowest 10th percentile of the wage distribution are at an earnings disadvantage,

while the remainder have modest earnings advantages of around 1.5%. These findings further support

the conclusion that Indigenous graduates fare reasonably well in the labour market.

Figure 1 Quantile regression estimates for Indigenous graduates

The second finding relates to the earnings effects of overeducation. Overeducation is found to result

in rather substantial earnings penalties of around 11% for non-Indigenous graduates and 13% for

Indigenous graduates. Thus, being overeducated is associated with large reductions in earnings, as

has been found in other studies on Australian graduates (Carroll & Tani 2012; Kler 2005; Li & Miller

2013a; 2013b).

Third, attaining a higher qualification beyond a bachelor’s pass degree confers rather substantial

earnings premiums. The premiums associated with postgraduate degree qualifications are rather

substantial for Indigenous graduates. For example, Indigenous graduates who obtained a master’s

degree earned 34% more than Indigenous graduates with a bachelor’s pass degree. Sizable premiums

are also observed for Indigenous graduates with other higher qualifications, such as 13% for those with

7 Buchinsky (1998) describes the quantile regression methodology, particularly for its application in cross-sectional

datasets.

-0.025

-0.02

-0.015

-0.01

-0.005

0

0.005

0.01

0.015

0.02

0.025

10th 20th 30th 40th 50th 60th 70th 80th 90th

Coefficient

Decile

NCVER 23

an honours degree, 24% for those with other postgraduate qualifications and 33% for those with a

doctorate.8 For non-Indigenous graduates, attaining a bachelor’s honours degree or other

postgraduate qualifications brings increased wages of 11 and 19%, respectively, compared with non-

Indigenous graduates with a bachelor’s pass degree. Non-Indigenous graduates who obtain a master’s

or doctoral degree experience earnings premiums of 28 and 31%, respectively. While the premiums on

postgraduate and honours qualifications for non-Indigenous graduates are lower than those observed

for Indigenous graduates, they are still considered substantial.9 Thus, postgraduate qualifications can

be considered a good investment. Note, however, that these earnings premiums can potentially be

eroded by being overeducated. For instance, an Indigenous graduate with a master’s degree who is

overeducated has an earnings premium of 28% from the higher degree, but an earnings disadvantage

of 11% from being overeducated, resulting in a net effect of 17%, all things being equal. While there

are still positive earnings effects from the individual’s postgraduate qualification, this might be lower

due to being overeducated.

Fourth, Indigenous female graduates experienced an earnings disadvantage of 8%. This gender wage

gap amongst Indigenous graduates is marginally higher than the wage gap of 6% observed for non-

Indigenous graduates. Age and its quadratic term were used as a proxy for labour market experience

in the model, and the estimated coefficients on those are 0.042 and -0.0005, respectively, for

Indigenous graduates, while non-Indigenous graduates have very similar estimates. Thus, the

graduates’ labour market experience yields positive effects on earnings, but diminishing as age

increases. For example, Indigenous graduates, evaluated at age 20 and 30, experience earnings

increases of 2.2 and 1.2%, respectively. Large earnings disadvantages are observed for graduates who

reported not to have Australian residency status, at 24% for non-Indigenous graduates and 54% for

Indigenous graduates.10 The estimated coefficients for residency status are significant at the 1% level.

Fifth, rather substantial differences in earnings are observed across fields of study. Amongst

Indigenous graduates, earnings effects of up to 14% are estimated. Specifically, those who studied

creative arts earned 14% less than the benchmark group of management and commerce graduates.

Furthermore, graduates from the fields of information technology, agriculture and environment,

health, education and society and culture also experienced earnings disadvantages between 6 and

10%. Non-Indigenous graduates from the same fields are observed to experience earnings

disadvantages, albeit on a lesser scale.

Sixth, the sector of employment played a substantial role in influencing earnings. Indigenous

graduates who worked in the public sector earned around 10% more than their counterparts who

worked in the reference category of all other sectors, while Indigenous graduates who worked in the

private sector have earnings effects that are statistically indistinguishable from the same benchmark

category. Non-Indigenous graduates in the public sector earned 9% more than non-Indigenous

graduates employed in all other sectors. However, non-Indigenous graduates working in the private

sector also have an earnings advantage of 5% more than their peers in all other sectors. Employment

terms on a more permanent basis of one year or more are associated with earnings premiums for both

Indigenous and non-Indigenous samples, of 6 and 12%, respectively.

8 Other postgraduate qualifications include graduate diplomas and graduate certificates. 9 Further, recall that only the estimated earnings effect on the attainment of a master’s degree differed statistically

between Indigenous and non-Indigenous graduates, while there are no statistical differences observed for the other qualifications estimated.

10 It is unknown and unobservable why some Indigenous graduates reported not to have Australian residency status.


Thus, a number of conclusions can be made from the findings in this section. The Indigenous wage gap

has been found to be relatively small, at around 3%. Furthermore, recall that earlier, the Indigenous

graduates were found to have a reduced probability of being overeducated. Therefore, Indigenous

graduates appear to fare reasonably well in the graduate labour market.

Generally, Indigenous graduates do not appear to be treated differently in the graduate labour

market, as the earnings effects observed for them are qualitatively similar to those estimated for non-

Indigenous graduates, and as there are very few instances where the earnings effects are shown to

differ statistically between Indigenous and non-Indigenous graduates. A moderate gender wage gap is

observed for graduates from both samples, as well as rather large disparities in earnings across field

of study.

Postgraduate and honours qualifications are found to offer rather large earnings premiums, and also

follow a hierarchy of earnings that increases with the level of the qualification. This is observed for

both Indigenous and non-Indigenous graduates. However, the earnings penalty associated with

overeducation is also rather substantial, at around 11—13%.

Table 3 Results from the ORU model of earnings

Variable Pooled sample Non-Indigenous Indigenous

(i) (ii) (iii) Aboriginal or Torres Straits Islander -0.030***

(-3.097)

Overeducated -0.106*** -0.106*** -0.125***

(-49.029) (-48.856) (-4.134)

Honours 0.105*** 0.105*** 0.134***

(34.568) (34.419) (3.075)

Masters+ 0.280*** 0.279*** 0.342***

(95.939) (95.507) (8.616)

Other postgraduate 0.189*** 0.189*** 0.243***

(70.924) (70.565) (6.595)

PhD 0.306*** 0.306*** 0.334***

(68.056) (67.787) (5.755)

Female -0.063*** -0.062*** -0.077***

(-42.403) (-42.204) (-4.079)

Age 0.045*** 0.046*** 0.042***

(67.653) (67.603) (4.278)

Agesq/1000 -0.494*** -0.4930*** -0.500***

(-52.331) (-52.254) (-3.645)

Physical or mental disability -0.048*** -0.048*** -0.002

(-9.886) (-9.970) (-0.037) Non-English speaking background+ -0.043*** -0.044*** 0.037

(-21.252) (-21.339) (0.999)

Not of Australian residency status+ -0.241*** -0.240*** -0.541***

(-47.789) (-47.668) (-2.741)

Double degree 0.002 0.002 -0.034

(0.661) (0.756) (-0.719)

Engaged in further studies 0.013*** 0.013*** 0.008

(6.793) (6.793) (0.280)

Natural and physical sciences -0.068*** -0.068*** -0.046

(-18.746) (-18.719) (-1.111)

Information technology -0.044*** -0.044*** -0.088*

(-10.658) (-10.577) (-1.652)

NCVER 25

Variable Pooled sample Non-Indigenous Indigenous

(i) (ii) (iii) Engineering -0.018*** -0.018*** -0.040

(-6.051) (-6.019) (-0.808)

Architecture -0.037*** -0.037*** -0.055

(-12.241) (-12.183) (-1.090)

Agriculture and environment -0.075*** -0.075*** -0.086*

(-20.919) (-20.867) (-1.850)

Health and related fields -0.057*** -0.057*** -0.099***

(-19.436) (-19.327) (-2.726)

Education -0.035*** -0.035*** -0.081**

(-12.646) (-12.549) (-2.027)

Society and culture -0.032*** -0.032*** -0.064**

(-13.066) (-12.997) (-2.065)

Creative arts and others -0.093*** -0.093*** -0.135***

(-25.429) (-25.294) (-2.953)

Self-employed 0.013*** 0.013** 0.077

(2.635) (2.547) (1.395)

Employed in public sector 0.089*** 0.089*** 0.097**

(27.769) (27.681) (2.090)

Employed in private sector 0.046*** 0.046*** 0.060

(14.213) (14.123) (1.215) Employment terms of one year or longer+ 0.118*** 0.118*** 0.056**

(69.349) (69.404) (2.305)

Constant 2.329*** 2.328*** 2.498***

(196.858) (196.431) (14.976)

Observations 745,680 741,006 4,674

Adjusted R2 0.146 0.146 0.092

Note: The absolute value of heteroscedasticity-consistent ‘t’-statistics are presented in parentheses. *, ** and *** indicate significance at the 10, 5 and 1% levels of significance, respectively. The model included controls for industry of employment and year of graduation. + indicates statistical difference for non-Indigenous and Indigenous graduates.

Conclusion

Indigenous Australians experience a number of disadvantages across multiple interrelated areas.

Therefore, in order to ‘close the gap’ for Indigenous people, solutions need to be multifaceted and

targeted at various areas, including health and education. Moreover, it was noted earlier that a

number of higher education policies had been implemented to boost Indigenous participation and

performance in higher education. This study thus evaluates the labour market outcomes of Indigenous

graduates in Australia, which will contribute to the information needed for the formulation and

implementation of higher education policy for Indigenous Australians. Another contribution to the

literature lies in the use of the ORU framework in evaluating the labour market outcomes of

Indigenous graduates. There have been limited amounts of information in this area, and more studies

on this topic are needed as they will help to inform higher education policy.

The findings from the present study are very encouraging, and indicate that Indigenous Australians

fare reasonably well in the graduate labour market. The results of the logit model of overeducation

indicate that Indigenous graduates have a lower likelihood of being overeducated by 6%, compared

with non-Indigenous graduates. Given that overeducation had been associated with negative

outcomes, such as lower earnings and job dissatisfaction (see, for example, Hartog 2000), this is a

positive outcome for Indigenous graduates. Other important determinants of overeducation have also

been identified, such as double degree completions and fields of study. It is also important to note


that the determinants of overeducation were found to have similar effects for both Indigenous and

non-Indigenous graduates, with only modest differences on the scale of their impact across the two

samples. The labour market thus appears to afford the same treatment of Indigenous graduates as

with non-Indigenous graduates. From these perspectives, Indigenous participation in higher education

should be encouraged. While it might be argued that increased participation in higher education

might erode the positive labour market returns for Indigenous graduates, compelling

counterarguments can be found in the current (disproportionately) low rate of higher education

participation by Indigenous Australians, as well as their better performance in the labour market

compared with non-Indigenous graduates.

Another important finding from this study is that the Indigenous graduate wage gap is around 3%,

which is much smaller than the Indigenous wage gaps reported in earlier studies, such as Daly (1994).

Again, this is encouraging for Indigenous graduates and suggests that higher education could be a good

means to alleviate the Indigenous income gap. The earnings effects of overeducation are also very

similar for Indigenous and non-Indigenous graduates, as the adverse effects on graduate earnings are

around 12% for both groups of graduates. In addition, other important determinants of earnings for

the graduates, such as postgraduate qualifications, fields of study, sector of employment and

employment length have been identified. Again, these determinants of earnings affect Indigenous and

non-Indigenous graduates similarly, in a qualitative sense, with the differences being confined to that

of the scale of impact. Thus, it can be concluded that the graduate labour market does not

discriminate between graduates on this basis.

However, it needs to be borne in mind that one limitation of the study is that the graduates are being

evaluated four months after their graduation. The study, therefore, is unable to track developments

in the Indigenous graduates’ outcomes further in time. Thus, future research in this direction would

be welcome, and the labour market outcomes of Indigenous Australians should be evaluated at a

longer time after graduation.

Another direction for research of interest lies in the performance of Indigenous graduates in

university. As mentioned in the introductory section above, programs such as the Indigenous Tutorial

Assistance Scheme for Tertiary Tuition are in place to boost Indigenous students’ academic

performance in university. It would thus be of use to evaluate the success of such schemes, and

further, to examine the links between academic performance and labour market outcomes for

Indigenous Australians.

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NCVER 27

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http://www.healthinfonet.ecu.edu.au/overview_2012.pdf

NCVER 29

‘We were all involved with the line’ : Indigenous experience in rail Katie Maher University of South Australia

Abstract

Indigenous people have worked with the Australian railways since the early days of surveying and

construction. The crucial role of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people in railway development

and the considerable skills and knowledge that Indigenous people have brought to and acquired on the

railways have, however, been largely overlooked. This study of the skills, knowledge and experience

of Indigenous railway workers of the past informs current work to promote employment and skills

acquisition opportunities for Indigenous Australians today.

In the face of skills shortages, rail companies are attempting to boost the engagement, recruitment

and retention of Indigenous workers. This study proposes that appreciation of the crucial role played

by Indigenous workers in developing the railways can support Indigenous engagement and strengthen

recognition of skills acquisition among Indigenous employees in rail.

In attempting to learn from the experiences of Indigenous railway workers of previous generations,

oral, written and visual records of and by Indigenous railway workers and their families were

collected. Data sources included oral histories, life stories, photographs, songs and poetry by

Aboriginal railway workers and their families. A thematic analysis of these oral, written and visual

records was conducted. This analysis was informed by Indigenous methodologies (LT Smith 1999;

Fredericks 2007), and historical inquiry (Norris 2006; 1994; Maynard 1999).

Accounts of Aboriginal railway workers tell of how Indigenous people have been ‘involved with the

line’ (Ah Chee 2000) across many generations. As Arabana traditional owner and former railway

employee, Reg Dodd, explains, ‘the knowledge of the Aboriginal people was very critical in the

construction although there’s not much recorded about the knowledge and the involvement of the

Aboriginal people’. The railways have been a major source of employment for Indigenous Australians

across generations and locations. These men and women worked as fettlers, gangers, firemen, engine

drivers, guards, stationmasters and mistresses, waiters and waitresses, cooks and cleaners and as

managers of their own companies.

The study provides insight into: why Indigenous workers sought employment with the railways;

obstacles and opportunities in gaining and maintaining employment; why many stayed ‘on the line’

and others left; how some workers were able to acquire high-level skills and more responsible roles,

and to support friends and family in skills recognition and skills acquisition; how the railways have

served as a site of constructive relations among Indigenous and non-Indigenous people; the relevance

of Aboriginal knowledge and perspectives to workforce development in rail; and the potential for the

railways to serve as a site where Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people hold skilled and

leadership positions.

Historical findings suggest that Indigenous people have a history of applying and developing skills in

the rail industry. If, however, the sector does not adequately recognise the skills, knowledge and


experience of Indigenous workers of past generations, the capabilities of Indigenous workers today

remain undervalued. Assumptions that Indigenous employees lack skills, knowledge and experience

continue to obstruct skills recognition and consequently skills acquisition. Valuing the capability of

Indigenous employees involves not only raising Indigenous employment targets but committing to

employing more Indigenous people in leadership roles and in skilled positions.

Introduction

Over recent years, rail corporations, along with many other sectors, have endeavoured to ‘target’ the

employment and the ‘upskilling’ of Indigenous employees. But the employment of Indigenous people

is nothing new in rail, and neither is the presence of skilled Indigenous workers. Indeed, the skills,

knowledge and experience of Indigenous workers have been utilised by the rail industry for many

generations, even before the first tracks were laid.

This research into the history of Aboriginal experience in rail has emerged from a study on equity and

recognition of skills and knowledge in the rail industry today (Maher 2012). The study found that

Indigenous people in particular were missing out on having their skills and knowledge recognised and

also found that little recognition was given to the historical dimensions of this inequality. The study

also observed that the parents and grandparents of many Indigenous rail employees today had worked

in rail. This led to further research on the historical involvement of Indigenous Australians in rail,

which has shown just how extensive and important the contributions of Aboriginal rail workers have

been. What became apparent in the course of the study was that equitable recognition of the skills

and knowledge of Aboriginal people in the industry today is assisted by recognition of the skills and

knowledge of Aboriginal railway workers of the past.

The paper first reviews and discusses the literature pertaining to Aboriginal participation in the labour

market. It then provides an historical overview of Aboriginal involvement in rail from early railway

surveying and construction until recent times. The employment experiences of a number of Indigenous

men and women rail workers, including those in skilled and leadership roles, are discussed and

analysed, and consideration given to how their experiences might inform participation among

Indigenous and non-Indigenous people in rail corporations today. The paper then considers how the

accounts of Aboriginal railway workers might inform the development of Aboriginal engagement and

employment policies and programs, particularly in terms of skills recognition1 and skills acquisition.2

Indigenous labour market participation: a review of the literature

It is well known that the rate of unemployment is significantly higher among Aboriginal Australians

than it is for non-Aboriginal Australians. According to the ABS (2011), in 2011, an estimated 173 800

Indigenous Australians were classified as employed, representing 46.2% of the Indigenous population

aged 15 years and over. By comparison, 70.6% of non-Indigenous Australians were employed.

Williams and Thorpe’s (1992) analysis of the labour market positions of Indigenous workers pointed to

‘very significant inequalities between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal people; at least three times the

rate of unemployment, much lower levels of income, and far fewer employment options’ (Williams &

1 For the purposes of this paper, skills recognition broadly refers to acknowledgment or valuing of skills and knowledge,

and includes formal and informal processes of assessment made during recruitment, training and on the job. 2 Skills acquisition broadly refers to the learning or development of the skills and knowledge required to perform given

job roles and is inclusive of both formal training and informal workplace learning.

NCVER 31

Thorpe 1992, p.107). In 2013, over two decades later, Aboriginal people still have three times the

rate of unemployment, much lower levels of income and fewer employment options.

Decades of research have indicated that Indigenous Australians are much more likely than non-

Indigenous Australians to experience low levels of formal education, poor health, imprisonment,

violence and discrimination and to lack adequate housing (Constable 2009, p.14). Such factors

contribute to the inequality Aboriginal Australians experience in the workplace3 such that the

Aboriginal population is now ‘broadly characterised by high unemployment, low employment and

employment in low-skill jobs’ (Lowry & Moskos 2007, p.91).

This review of literature, rather than continuing to reiterate the statistics on Indigenous labour force

participation and the often cited barriers and enablers to vocational education and employment

participation which have been discussed elsewhere (see, for example, Constable, 2009; Bretherton,

Evesson & Yu 2012; Gray, Hunter & Lohoar 2012) draws on related literature that works to question

some of the continuing conceptual logics4 (Bacchi 2009) around Indigenous labour market experiences

and to highlight the relevance of history and Indigenous knowledges to an appreciation of Indigenous

experience in rail.

Lowry and Moskos (2007) explain the low labour market status of Aboriginal Australians as ‘due to a

variety of interdependent factors that can be summarised as historical (including the failure of

successive policy regimes), locational and cultural’ (p.91). Historical factors include Australia’s

multigenerational history of attempting to control, contain and devalue Aboriginal Australians through

government and economic policies and interventions (Hunter 2004; Lowry & Moskos 2007; Host &

Milroy 2001). It follows that the current labour market situation facing Indigenous Australians, and the

significance of the contribution of Aboriginal skills and knowledge to the labour market, cannot be

appreciated without some grasp of the history of economic policies and practices which have

attempted to control and contain Aboriginal employment across the generations (Williams & Thorpe

1992; Norris 2010; Host & Milroy 2001). Host and Milroy (2001, pp.5—6) further explain:

The significance of Aboriginal labour to the mainstream economy cannot be appreciated without

reference to the context in which that labour has occurred … the extension of the colonial frontier

meant that all Aboriginal people who survived the European invasion were reduced to the status

of trespassers in their own land … Eventually all Aboriginal people were forced to depend on the

white Australian economy to a greater or lesser degree … Aboriginal people were self sufficient

until their land was taken and their economy destroyed.

As Williams and Thorpe (1992, p.93) have pointed out:

Australian Aboriginal ‘unemployment’ was a built-in feature of Australian economic history and

had less to do with individual Aboriginal characteristics. At the same time, and for a variety of

reasons, Aborigines were employed throughout the colonial period and beyond, and played a much

more significant role both as workers and as agents who enabled colonization to proceed, than

most other accounts have acknowledged.

The discriminatory policies of past generations also impact on current employment situations.

Bundjalung elder and former railway employee Charles Moran has shared his thoughts on why some

Indigenous people find difficulties in keeping employment today:

3 Further details and statistics on Indigenous labour force participation are provided elsewhere (see for example:

Constable 2009; Dockery & Milsom 2007, Dockery, 2013; Lowry & Moskos 2007; SCGRS 2011; see also Walter 2010). 4 Conceptual logics, according to Bacchi (2009 p.7) encompasses ‘assumptions, values, presuppositions and accompanying

signs’.


As our cultural systems have been broken down and our independence challenged under the old

reserve and mission systems, the discipline needed to keep our young people on the right track

has also broken down. Where racism, policy and discriminatory practices have interfered badly

with people’s opportunities for a stable family life, education and work, then the next

generations have to shoulder much of this neglect. (Moran & Moran 2004, p.169)

And yet, as the accounts of Aboriginal railway workers discussed in this paper confirm, despite this

history of discriminatory policies and practices, many Aboriginal people have made a very significant

contribution to the labour market, particularly in work environments where Aboriginal ‘cultural

systems’ have been valued.

Lowry and Moskos note cultural factors as another major determinant of labour force status, not only

in terms of Aboriginal culture but also in terms of the culture of the workplace and perceptions about

Aboriginal culture.

Indigenous peoples in remote areas may be unwilling to migrate for employment because they

have other important cultural priorities. On the demand-side, there is also the likelihood that

employer discrimination impacts on Indigenous labour force participation, and this is an area that

is in much need of research. (Lowry & Moskos 2007, pp.91—2)

There are many ways in which culture might be interpreted and practised in the workplace, both from

the perspective of Indigenous and non-Indigenous employees and employers. ‘Aboriginal culture’ is

often perceived as distinct from (the dominant) workplace culture, at times inferior or irrelevant and

at times inconvenient or even threatening to accepted workplace visions and practices (Norris 2010;

De Plevitz 2000, p.5). The literature notes some concern with the use of the term ‘culture’ rather

than ‘race’ to explain or dismiss perceived racial/cultural factors. Fleras and Elliot (2007), for

example, have examined how discussion of culture may come to replace discussion of race and in the

process conceal discriminatory views and processes. According to this argument: ‘(d)ominant sectors

are not defined as racially superior but as culturally normal and preferred over those cultural

differences that pose a threat to a secular and liberal society’ (Fleras & Elliott 2006, p.59). According

to this argument, discriminatory attitudes or mistaken assumptions about Indigenous people might be

articulated as problems of ‘cultural fit’, or an inability to adapt to the norms of the dominant

workplace culture rather than as racism. This has implications for the way workplaces discuss ‘race’

and ‘culture’. One example of how these shifting terminologies might operate in the workplace comes

from Murri education and health researcher, Professor Bronwyn Fredericks (2008), who has argued

that equity in the workplace requires extending beyond ‘cross cultural awareness’ training to ‘anti-

racism training’ that addresses the race privilege of the dominant group (white Australians).

Norris (2010) suggests that underlying Indigenous employment disadvantage is the continuing belief

among non-Indigenous Australians that Aboriginal people are inferior, irresponsible and incapable.

Norris (2010) adds that a further problem is the focus on skills deficit with little attention given to

how Aboriginal Australians have contributed to and do contribute to the economy and the workplace.

Existing research demonstrates that employers do continue to hold negative attitudes about

Indigenous people’s levels of education, skills and knowledge, their aptitude and commitment to work

or even their existence in the workplace. Constable (2009, p.38) for example noted ‘an assumption on

the part of many employers and government policy makers that Indigenous people lack the necessary

skills and qualifications to successfully enter the labour market’ (Constable 2009, p.38). Research by

Sammartino, O’Flynn and Nicholas (2003, p.58) observed: ‘the perception of Indigenous employees as

underperforming and prone to absenteeism and flight’. Research by Hunter and Gray (2002) found

that employer and employee attitudes were a common deterrent to Indigenous people seeking work.

NCVER 33

Language is another aspect of culture which deserves further attention. Key messages from Dockery’s

(2013) research on cultural dimensions of Indigenous participation in vocational education and training

include that, while ‘stronger cultural identity appears to promote greater participation and

achievement in education and training’ yet ‘participation in education and training is higher for those

without English language difficulties and who do not speak Indigenous languages’ and ‘lower income

and employment outcomes are observed for those who speak an Indigenous language compared with

those who do not, irrespective of gender or remoteness’ (p.3). As Dockery (2013) notes, the finding

that those who speak an Indigenous language have poorer employment outcomes is contrary to

international studies from Canada and New Zealand, and contested by some. From an historical

perspective that recalls the policies and practices of denying the use of Aboriginal languages in

education and training centres and workplaces, Dockery’s (2013) findings are perhaps not surprising.

From an Indigenous knowledge perspective it might be argued that these findings are related to an

undervaluing of Indigenous languages and the knowledge and values they contain in research and

practice (Arbon 2008) and a positioning of non-Aboriginal English as the standard language of the

workplace, requiring the use of forms of written and spoken English which privilege formally

educated, native speakers of non-Aboriginal English and arguably discriminate against non-dominant

cultural and language groups (Maher 2012).

While much discussion has occurred around incorporating Indigenous knowledges and perspectives into

higher education and tertiary institutions (see, for example, the work of Veronica Arbon, Karen

Martin, Bronwyn Fredericks and Maggie Walter), there has been little discussion around Indigenous

knowledges in the VET literature. One example of work that could inform Indigenous labour market

research is that of Murri scholar Professor Bronwyn Fredericks (2009), who has demonstrated the

strength of Indigenous methodologies and perspectives in researching the complexities of ‘getting a

job’ and surviving in the workforce as an Aboriginal woman in the face of current Indigenous

employment and engagement policies. Her work highlights how workplace equality involves more than

raising Indigenous employment figures:

It is not about just getting a job and developing employment programs for Aboriginal people …

The historical processes and impacts of colonisation and the racialised societal structures that

impact on the daily lives of Aboriginal people and Aboriginal communities also need to be

addressed. (Fredericks 2009, p.32)

Another example is the work of Associate Professor Maggie Walter (2005, 2010), a descendant of the

Trawlwoolway people of Tasmania, who has discussed dilemmas associated with producing, analysing

and presenting Indigenous numerical data and related problems of misinterpretation of Indigenous

statistical analysis when research is conceptualised and analysed from non-Indigenous knowledge

bases. While this literature on Indigenous knowledges is not specifically aimed at vocational education

and training, it does present learnings to VET in terms of engagement with Indigenous people and

understanding Indigenous perspectives in research and the workplace. The oral histories and life

stories of Aboriginal people who have experienced VET and employment can also inform this work.

Research methods and analysis

Indigenous people are among the most researched people in the world (LT Smith 1999). Much of the

research on Aboriginal people draws on non-Indigenous sources and the voices of Aboriginal people are

largely absent. Studies in the VET sector are no exception.


The history of Aboriginal involvement in rail is largely absent from official records and remains little

known to non-Indigenous people. Consequently, this study draws on records of over one hundred

Indigenous Australian railway employees, covering Indigenous involvement in rail from the 1870s until

recent times. Sources are primarily the life stories, oral histories and personal accounts of Aboriginal

railway workers and their families. In analysing and discussing findings I draw on the growing body of

knowledge by Indigenous educators on Indigenous methodologies (LT Smith 1999; Fredericks 2007) and

the value of Aboriginal ways of knowing and doing in learning and practice (Arbon 2008; Fredericks

2009; O’Brien 2007 & Gale 2007).

Following discussion and analysis of the historical experiences of Aboriginal railway workers, I

consider how historical findings might inform current policy and practice in rail. The study outlines

current Aboriginal employment figures and Aboriginal engagement policies and programs in

contemporary rail organisations and considers how these relate to the past. The study also draws on

data from a recent study on skills recognition in the rail industry, funded by the Cooperative Research

Centre for Rail Innovation (2011—13). Over fifty semi-structured interviews were held with

participants from 12 Australian rail companies and several registered training organisations servicing

the rail industry (for further details see Maher 2012; Morrison et al. 2012). In this study, trainers and

assessors, equity and diversity officers and managers and employees in various roles were asked about

their views on equity and diversity and Indigenous employment and engagement in their organisations.

With reference to the historical and Indigenous knowledges literature, this paper critiques the views

of non-indigenous employers from this study regarding Aboriginal employment and engagement.

During the past year I have worked closely with Kaurna elder Dr (Uncle) Lewis O’Brien, a former

apprentice with the South Australian railways, which has strengthened my appreciation of Aboriginal

ways of knowing and doing. Insights gleaned from Dr O’Brien include how knowledge and skills can be

understood in more than one way. He has discussed, for example, how the Aboriginal understanding

and practice of deep listening and close observation entail useful skills and knowledge that can be

transferred to various research, education and workplace settings. In this research I attempt to listen

deeply to the accounts and observations of Aboriginal railway workers and Aboriginal researchers and

educators and to reflect on how their insight might lead to more equitable recognition of skills and

knowledge in vocational education and training and Indigenous employment research and analysis.

A history of Aboriginal involvement in the Australian railways ‘Wherever the railway line went’

As Arabana elder, Reg Dodd (2002), who worked on the railways around Marree, South Australia, from

1960 to 1986 has observed, even before laying the tracks, the expertise of Aboriginal workers was

used to survey railway routes and locate essential water and food supplies along the routes:

They told them where the water was … They were guides, they would tell them where they could

go. And the railways used the knowledge and skills of Aboriginal people.

Reg Dodd noted how:

The knowledge of the Aboriginal people was very critical in the construction although there’s not

much recorded about the knowledge and the involvement of the Aboriginal people.

Unknown numbers of Aboriginal people worked on early railway construction in the late 1800s and

early 1900s, including work on construction of railway lines in New South Wales, Queensland, South

Australia, Western Australia and the Northern Territory, as packers and carriers, sleeper cutters and

NCVER 35

track layers. Aboriginal women worked as washerwomen and laundresses for railway men. They

accompanied and assisted Indigenous and non-Indigenous railway men with their work and in many

cases raised the children of railways workers.

The railway workshops at Eveleigh, Sydney, are documented as being one of the biggest employers of

Aboriginal people during the late nineteenth century and early twentieth century. Hundreds of

Aboriginal Australians are believed to have travelled to Sydney at this time in search of work at the

workshops. They worked in the boiler room, foundry and goods yards and contributed to the

development of the transport infrastructure in and around Sydney (Barani 2002; Davis 2012).

Among the few public records of early Aboriginal railway workers is that of Charles Runga, said to be

from the ‘Chowilla tribe’, of the upper Murray River, who worked for the South Australian railway

department from 1874 to 1888:5

There is working on the Kingston to Naracoorte line … an Aboriginal named Charles Runga who has

been on the line in the South East from its commencement, I believe … Now he is a workman

equal to any on the line … One time they thought of making him a ganger and he ran the line daily

for years.

As Arthur Ah Chee (2000), whose father Arthur Ah Chee was a ganger on the Oodnadatta to Alice

Springs line between the 1920s and 1950s has explained:

Wherever the railway line went, wherever the line was at the different camps then, the line

became a meeting place for Aboriginal people. (Ah Chee 2000)

These meeting places became contact points for work on and along the line, and many Aboriginal

railway workers stayed with the railways for decades. The railways employed Aboriginal Australians in

cities, towns and regional locations as well as in remote locations.

Torres Strait Islanders have shown remarkable skill on the railways and still hold the world record in

heavy haul track laying (Lui-Chivizhe 2011). In 1968 a gang of 41 men, most of whom were Torres

Strait Islanders, equipped with 13 000 sleepers and 910 tons of rail, took less than 12 hours to lay over

seven kilometres of track (Lui-Chivizhe; Workshops Railway Museum Queensland 2012). This was

despite, as Eddie Mabo pointed out in his 1973 James Cook University lectures, that most Torres Strait

Islanders had never seen a train or tracks before starting work on the railways (Graham 1999). Eddie

Mabo worked on the railways in Queensland in the 1950s and Western Australia in the 1960s.

While the extraordinary achievements of Torres Strait Islander railway workers are becoming better

known (Lui-Chivizhe 2011), less is known about the experiences of Aboriginal railway workers. This is

despite the railways once being a major employer of Aboriginal people. According to Douglas Walker

who worked on the Northern Territory, South Australian and NSW lines:

The railways, straight after the laying off Aboriginal people, men, from the stations, the railway

was the second largest employers of Aboriginal people. Not only the Port Augusta to Alice Springs

line; the Port Augusta to Kalgoorlie, the East-West. (Walker 2005, p.11)

5 The Public Service Review, March 1896, p.61, viewed 4 April 2014,

<http://www.slsa.sa.gov.au/manning/sa/aborigines/1858.htm>.

http://www.slsa.sa.gov.au/manning/sa/aborigines/1858.htm


Charles Moran, when discussing his work on the railways in the 1960s, explained that:

Aboriginal people involved in railway work was not new — the NSW railways was a big employer of

my people then, in all areas of railway work, including engine drivers, stokers, waitresses, guards,

track foreman and fettlers. (Moran & Moran 2004, p.129)

‘I decided to get work on the railways’

While the railways of the twentieth century did not have the formal equity and diversity policies or

Aboriginal employment strategies in place today, getting a job with the railways was in many ways

less complicated. Aboriginal jobseekers could get work without the requirement for extensive written

applications and formal recruitment processes. Jobs were often obtained through introductions from

friends and family (Moran & Moran 2004; Skeen 2008; Ah Chee 2000). According to Albert Holt (2001,

p.108), who worked with the Queensland railways in the 1950s: ‘To get a job on the railways in those

days you just had to show up and the ganger could appoint you there and then’.

Brian Strangways (2011, p.19) who worked with the South Australian railways also talks about how it

was relatively easy to get work in the 1960s in comparison with today: ‘No transfer — in those days, it

was a walk up start. There was plenty of work around. Like I said, you walk up and bang – you’ve got a

job. Not like these days now’.

The accounts of railway workers also show the considerable efforts made to support their friends and

family in gaining railway jobs. Arthur Ah Chee (2000, unpaged) describes how his father assisted many

family members to gain positions on the railways in the Northern Territory in the mid-1900s, and how

his family members supported each other in gaining the skills and knowledge required to work in rail

and take on more senior positions: ‘Through Dad, a lot of our family were from the different tribes,

like Arabana, through Marree and all that, that held positions through Dad, up to gangers and fettlers’.

Permanent jobs and more senior roles, however, usually involved more formal recruitment processes,

including written applications and formal interviews. Apprentices were generally required to engage

in competitive processes, including written exams and formal interviews. Kaurna elder, Dr Lewis

O’Brien, sat for the South Australian railways entrance exam to become an apprentice fitter and

turner in the 1950s. He explained:

I went to Brookman Hall … and sat for the exam with 400 other kids. Out of the 400 kids I think

100 kids were interviewed, and out of the 100 kids interviewed 67 got apprenticeships.

(O’Brien & Gale 2007, p.123)

Charles Perkins also completed a fitter and turner apprenticeship and then worked for the South

Australian railways before attending university and working in Aboriginal Affairs. The experiences of

these men show how even in generations passed, there were Aboriginal people who succeeded in the

mainstream education and training system. Such experiences challenge assumptions about low

education being a defining feature of Aboriginality. While it is well known that Aboriginal Australians

overall have not been afforded the same level of formal education as non-Indigenous Australians, what

is less well known is that there are Indigenous Australians who have, for generations, succeeded and

excelled in mainstream education.

But many other Indigenous men and women who came to work in rail had not had the same education

opportunities as Lewis O’Brien and Charles Perkins. With little formal education and limited literacy

they were not well placed to get through competitive written tests and formal recruitment processes

based on white Australian standards. The stories of Indigenous railway workers suggest however that

informal strategies were used to enable some capable workers to get through examinations and to

NCVER 37

persist with the training processes. There were times when railway workers with formal educational

qualifications, Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal, assisted their Aboriginal co-workers to gain the skills

and knowledge required to pass exams and gain promotion. Douglas Walker, who worked with the

Northern Territory and South Australian railways around the 1970s explained how the ‘old white

blokes’ helped him to gain his gangers certificate:

In the railways a lot of the old blokes, the old white blokes there, they passed their skills and

knowledge on to you, they showed you what to do. If you couldn’t read they’d take time after

work under the lamp light and help you to go through it, the theory side, and out on the track

next day they’ll show you what to do and how to do it. And so that’s how blokes like us, we

passed our test for the ganger’s certificate, because you had to know the laws of the railway.

(Walker 2005, pp.10—11)

Charles Moran told how his brother Peter encouraged him to apply for railway work and helped him

fill in an application.

He helped me fill out an application for a job as labourer in a relay gang. I had to go to Sydney for

a medical examination to get this job and my first posting was to Wauchope. There were a lot of

Aboriginal men in the gang and they had a big camp set up along the track near Wauchope station.

(Moran & Moran 2004, p.91)

Lewis O’Brien noted how the railways made some allowances for apprentices facing financial

difficulties. This flexibility and assistance enabled him to eventually complete his apprenticeship,

although it took him an extra year to do so:

Luckily, the blokes who were in charge of our training let me go up to the wine growing areas on

the Murray river to earn some money picking grapes … I used to go up there for three months at a

time to make a few quid. When I went back to the railways, I’d tell them about my situation and

they said, ‘oh yeah, we understand. It’s ok to start again’. I did that trip away about four times …

I’m really grateful to the railways. They knew of my circumstances, and they knew I was keen. I

wasn’t the only one of us in these odd situations, so they made allowances for a lot of us kids. It

was a very pleasing thing. (O’Brien & Gale 2007, p.140)

The support and assistance of family and co-workers and a face-to-face application and recruitment

process which allowed practical demonstration of skills, rather than the requirement for written

applications and exams, allowed many capable Indigenous employees with limited formal education to

demonstrate their work capacity. Accounts of Aboriginal railway workers also provide insight into

some of the informal ways in which railway employees have supported each other.

While a number of Indigenous railway workers talked of the ease of finding railway employment,

others noted certain difficulties, particularly with gaining higher-level roles. Fettling roles, working in

harsh conditions in remote locations without much pay, were not in high demand and Indigenous

workers faced relatively little competition in gaining such jobs. But Indigenous applicants sometimes

faced obstacles when seeking higher-skilled, qualified and more competitive roles.

Uncle Lewis O’Brien described how the financial requirements for undertaking apprenticeship for the

railways made it almost impossible for Indigenous applicants and wards of the state such as him:

Apprenticeships are hard. In those days you needed to be in a family who could support you

financially while you got your qualification. The low training wage didn’t work for kids like me

who weren’t supported by their families. So I was disadvantaged from the start. …


Anyway I stuck it out and fumbled through but it was a very hard time.

(O’Brien & Gale 2007, p.135)

This reiterates the ongoing importance of rail organisations providing sufficient funds for trainees and

allowing flexibility in terms of the time requirements for completing training so as not to discriminate

against trainees and employees with family and other commitments.

Albert Holt (2001, p.133) from Inala in Brisbane’s Southwest, who grew up at Cherbourg Mission,

describes how lack of money prevented him from pursuing railway work in 1960s Queensland:

I decided to get work on the railways … I was desperately low on money and straight away headed

for the railway inspector’s office. He told me the bad news — no vacancies in the railway at Dalby,

but if I went further west I would be sure to find work. I couldn’t afford to go any further west.

Smiths General Contracting, run by Koori brothers Robert and Bill Smith, presents an example of how

an Aboriginal-run company could work to ensure capable workers were not obstructed by lack of start-

up funds. The Smith brothers, for example, assisted some of their Aboriginal workers to travel to

worksites and to find a place to live. They committed to going that extra step to make employment

opportunities available to Indigenous workers who were willing and able to work. According to Ray

Kelly, ‘Smiths would just about take on anything in trying to give men work’. As a result the Smith

brothers inspired confidence and capability in their Indigenous employees.

Queensland railway worker George Skeene, while successful in gaining work with a railway gang,

described how he missed out on gaining a position as ganger in 1979 due to failing the theory side of

the examination.

While camped at Ootann, I was asked if I wanted to attend ganger’s school in Rockhampton. I

accepted because I wanted to better myself within the department. I was going to be away for a

month. …

The course was a full eight hours in the classroom … We were all given certificates for our four

weeks there and a written assessment of our exams would be forwarded to our department … My

report was given to me later. It said although I knew the practical side of my work, it was the

theory side that I failed in. (Skeene 2008, pp.107—8)

Despite not passing his Gangers course, George Skeene did have the experience to act as ganger and

was repeatedly put on as acting ganger in the following years:

In January 1980, my old work diary shows that I was acting ganger. Ken King had to take some of

his accumulated leave and I was put in charge of the gang. I was acting ganger for eight weeks.

When Ken King came back to work, I went back labouring. Just because I was acting ganger, I did

not stand around watching the men work. I worked with them. (Skeene 2008, p.109)

Note also that many Aboriginal employees were successful in gaining their ganger’s certificates.

Charles Moran for example notes that when he sat his ganger’s schooling in the 1960s, there was

another Aboriginal man, Charles Malcolm, sitting the exam and both men were appointed as gangers

(Moran & Moran 2004).

A number of Aboriginal railway workers explained how it was less complicated to just ‘do the work’

rather than attempt to take up a more senior role. Brian Strangways, for example, who worked on the

South Australian railways, explained:

NCVER 39

‘Protection of life and property’ that was the first two rules in the Railways. If you wanted to be a

ganger or a track foreman you’d have to study up to get your Safe Working ticket. I was offered

that but I knocked it back. Too much back stabbing. I said, ‘I’ll just do the work’.

(Strangways 2011, p.23)

While Indigenous workers in leadership positions were in many cases well respected and highly

regarded by colleagues, rising to more senior and sought-after positions could also incite bad feeling.

Taking on jobs such as head ganger or other positions of seniority could carry with them particular

stresses. Mildred Morley said of her father Jack McGinness, head ganger in the Northern Territory,

Not everyone was comfortable with having an Aboriginal man in charge … there was a lot of

contention, and some wouldn’t work under him. But … there was a lot of them that stayed and

worked with Dad because they liked him. (Morley 2000)

Aboriginal railways workers who were promoted to better paid and more prestigious positions were an

exception. As Kruger pointed out, he knew he wasn’t going to ‘get rich’ on the railways:

With a baby coming we were working to put aside whatever extra money we could squeeze from

our wages. There wasn’t much left over, that was for sure. Even with me getting up and playing

the best boy at the railways, I knew I was never going to be invited to sit up at the big table, join

the bosses and get the big money. I always knew that, I wasn’t going to get rich.

(Kruger & Waterford 2007, p.237)

Pay and conditions for Aboriginal rail workers have varied across time, location and circumstance.

Rex Stuart, who worked with the South Australian railways around the 1960s, explained how he chose:

to get a job in the railways, because it was cash paid every fortnight and you had a

Commonwealth Store down in Port Augusta, you could bank your money in there and I didn’t even

understand that … I thought that if you had to go and ask for it people might think that I’m

robbing the bank or something, some just worked … and it was much different from droving.

(Stuart 2000, p.10)

As Rex Stuart indicates, during the 1950s and 1960s Aboriginal people working in other industries were

often paid little or nothing for their work. Arabana elder Reg Dodd (2002) said ‘where I grew up and

worked the railways were responsible for introducing the Aboriginal people into the paid workforce’.

He explained that Aboriginal people working on the line: ‘were actually getting paid for the jobs they

were doing — and good money, and then your people said, “Well, I’m going to work on the railways

too”’(Dodd 2009).

Some states were regarded as providing better conditions than others, and better conditions were

very often associated with less discrimination and more respectful and supporting work environments.

Alec Kruger, who worked as a fettler around Katherine, Alice Springs and on the Mount Isa to

Townsville line, compared Queensland with the Northern Territory in the 1950s:

Western Queensland … your money went further and it was more relaxed in some ways than the

Territory. It was still a racist place and you still needed to watch out for the bullyboys. But you

could have a life a bit freer from the fear of native affairs and the government men. There was

often a choice of work and they mostly paid award wages. (Kruger & Waterford 2007, p.213)

A number of Indigenous people suggested that the rail industry offered relatively comfortable

conditions. South Australian railway worker Rex Stuart explained how he chose to work with the

railways in the 1960s:


because it was much more comfortable, you had your breakfast, you had your lunch, you had your

bed, you had your shower. So most of my mates all went to the railways. (Stuart 2000, p.7)

But conditions were not always good. Aboriginal workers, like their non-Aboriginal co-workers, faced

many workplace hazards. Mildred Morley also recalls the hardships that her father Jack McGinness

experienced working on the line in the Northern Territory in the mid-1900s. One task was to spray the

lines with poison to keep them free of grass, which the railway workers were required to do without

protective clothing. As he father recalled: ‘I can remember dad coming home burnt and covered in

these sores, pussy sores. He never, ever got compensated for that’ (Morley 2000, p.10).

Aboriginal fettlers from across Australia, like their non-Indigenous co-workers, recall that laying and

repairing the track was demanding work (Moran & Moran 2004; Strangways 2011; Skeene 2008). Noongar poet Maxine Fumagalli (1992, p.24) has expressed the hard work and dedication of Noongar

men on the railways:

They worked for the railways, those tough Noongar men,

Those heavy sledge hammers they swung without end.

They were workmates together and friends after work,

A decent day’s labour they never would shirk.

Cec Fisher (1991), in his poem ‘railway fettlers’ gives a sense of the working conditions on the

Queensland railways in the 1960s:

Change broken joint plates, bolts, sleepers rebore

To replace, clean up, then look for more

Clayholes or places in the line where buckling has begun

Steel expanding by the heat of the summer’s sun.

While the roles and conditions of railway work have changed with increasing mechanisation and

privatisation, Aboriginal workers have demonstrated a capacity to adapt their skills and knowledge

to required roles, to work in difficult conditions and to work hard. While many of the Aboriginal

fettlers who build and maintained the tracks over generations had limited opportunity to acquire

new skills, others progressed with the railways to take on new roles as the railways developed over

the following decades.

Permanent paid jobs with the railways were sought after and highly valued by many Aboriginal

workers (Kruger & Waterford 2007). Pitjara man Albert Holt who worked for the railways in the 1960s

and 1970s explained that: ‘Living in poverty all my life, made me feel determined to get a permanent

job and financial security as a fettler in the railway’ (Holt 2001, p.118).

While many railway workers lived in tents or bondwood huts, a job with the railways, especially

a permanent job, could open opportunities to rent or even purchase their own home. Many

railway workers said they chose a job in rail as a means of getting a house and providing for their

family. Charles Moran, who worked with the NSW and Queensland railways between 1949 and the

1980s explained:

I had heard that houses were provided for workers with the New South Wales railways so I decided

to apply for a job there in the hope of getting better accommodation.


As Alec Kruger (2007) pointed out, it was a ‘huge thing; to have a house of your own when you had

never been the boss of your own camp, when you had a long history of being beholden to people’

(Kruger & Waterford 2007, pp.239—40).

NCVER 41

‘Everyone had to work together’

The support of Aboriginal co-workers also encouraged Aboriginal employees to apply for and stay on

in their jobs (see for example Moran & Moran 2004; Cohen 1987; Ah Chee 2000). Aboriginal ganger

Bill Smith oversaw a large gang at Moree. As his brother Robert describes ‘the big main boss was this

blackfella and the locals looked up to him, especially the blacks who worked under him’ (R Smith in

Maynard 1999, unpaged).

Many talked about enjoying the camaraderie of not only Aboriginal co-workers but people of different

cultural backgrounds. Arthur Ah Chee Junior, who grew up ‘on the line’ in the Northern Territory

pointed out that, ‘a lot of the people that worked with Dad, they were all nationalities’:

You had the Afghans, you had the Aboriginals, you name the different nationalities you had

working on the line. Everyone had to work together. Virtually, the very life of working in the

railways was the main backbone of all cultures coming together. (Ah Chee 2000)

Ivy Owen commented on her work cleaning trains in Adelaide in the 1960s and 1970:

‘And I enjoyed my work. I enjoyed meeting all the different nationalities, all the different

women, and mixed with people like I’d never mixed before. And you got to know them all, and

they were a lovely lot of women, and I really enjoyed my work there. (Owen 1993)

While the camaraderie of the railways did support many Aboriginal workers to seek work and keep

work in the industry, relations among co-workers were not always congenial. Many Aboriginal workers

commented on inequitable treatment from non-Indigenous superiors and/or co-workers. Kaurna elder

Uncle Lewis O’Brien recalled that identifying as Aboriginal made it difficult for him to achieve his goal

of completing his apprenticeship with the railways in Adelaide in the 1950s. He said, ‘I think I was also

feeling the discrimination that was around then against Aboriginal people’ (p.137). Uncle Lewis

recalled ‘talking to this lad once who was also doing his apprenticeship’. When he told this fellow

apprentice that he was Aboriginal, the lad ‘immediately got up and just walked away’ (p.137). Uncle

Lewis explained:

every time I mention this word ‘Aboriginal’, people just walk away from me and don’t want to

know me. So in the end I found it was better to not say anything. I decided I wanted to just get on

with what I was doing, because I really wanted to finish my fitter’s apprenticeship. I thought if I

start speaking up I’m not gonna achieve my goal. (O’Brien & Gale 2007, pp.137—8)

Michael Williams describes the racism his father encountered as a fettler on the railway when a new

ganger came in:

Dad was the only Aboriginal person in the gang and he was certainly the oldest. At that time he

would have been in his early 60s. He’d be calling Dad ‘boy’. He’d get Dad to do all the menial

tasks that was usually left for what they would call ‘the nipper’ in those days, a young boy who

started and was there to do all the running around, but he’d get Dad to do this. He’d also be

niggling and sniping at him and making off-handed remarks.

One of the things my Dad taught me in life was patience by example. I mean, he tolerated it and

tolerated it. One morning … finally Dad said to the ganger, ‘Let’s step outside the fence’, i.e.

outside of government or railway property, ‘And we’ll sort it out’. Dad was clearly pushed to the

point of having to do something about this … The station master said to the ganger, ‘We know

who’ll be coming back inside the fence’, because Dad’s reputation as a boxer was quite legendary

in the district. And at that point the ganger stopped. (Williams 2010)


Aboriginal railway workers could also face disrespectful treatment from railway patrons. Irene Daley

worked as a railway cook on the buffet car of trains in the 1970s. Her son Troy Cassar-Daley said:

She wanted to work and she really wanted a job as a cook on the railway, and my uncle, at the

time, and my grandfather were working on the trains and they basically put a good word in for

her. But it was a bit touch and go because … we didn’t realise it until we were told about it later

on, but a lot of the patrons didn’t really want Aboriginal people touching their food.

(Cassar-Daley 2006)

Troy said ‘I just think it was really good of mum and the whole family to overcome it, and then to get

in there and she took so much pride’ (Cassar-Daley 2006). Like Irene Daley, many Aboriginal railway

workers had to ‘overcome’ ongoing discrimination to maintain their jobs.

Poor health and family obligations prompted other Indigenous employees to leave the industry.

Adelaide train cleaner Ivy Ellen Owen explained:

And I enjoyed it until my legs started to go me. I started to get arthritis in my knees … Then Barb

had one little boy that had a club foot … Then I left the railways … and I looked after the children.

(Owen 1993, p.24)

Some Aboriginal employees today continue to leave rail jobs due to the inability of the workplace to

fit in with their health needs and family commitments. Discussions with rail employees in equity and

diversity and Indigenous program development roles also indicated that family obligations continue to

be a reason for Indigenous employees leaving traineeships and jobs today; workplaces may regard the

need to take leave or make adjustments in the workplace as an inconvenience.

Other railway workers left because they got bored with doing the same old thing. As Cec Fisher (1991)

expresses in his poem, ‘railway fettlers’:

Every day just the same, I got tired of seeing the same old sign

Each night in the same place, rest and sleep, work for the Government.

Aboriginal workers have also left when not afforded the opportunity to advance to more challenging

roles. Charles Perkins was one Aboriginal worker whose skills and talents were underutilised in rail

and who left to pursue loftier ambitions in Indigenous affairs and other fields. He commented on his

stint with the railways:

I took one job on the railways in South Australia. They called me the greatest ‘sleeper’ ever to

join the railways. All the blokes on the railways said, ‘We’ve had some great sleepers before you

came, but you’re the best’. I was a fitter and turner on the railways. I believe I was of little value

to them. (Perkins 1975, p.53)

Others did develop skills in rail, which they then took to other sectors. Kaurna elder Lewis O’Brien,

for example, who completed his apprenticeship with the railways, explained that: ‘With all my skills I

was able to eventually join the merchant navy and go to sea, which was my dream’ (O’Brien & Gale

2007, p.139).

‘Everyone looked up to him’

Many Aboriginal men, and some women, became train drivers. Vince Wenberg, who spent three

decades with the railways, told how he was able to progress toward his dream of becoming an engine

driver: ‘I wanted to be an engine driver. In about 1956 I filled in an application to join the loco

branch. It was granted’ (Wenberg 2010).

NCVER 43

Starting off cleaning engines and clearing up rubbish, he later passed the fireman’s exam and

progressed through various classes of engine to become a qualified driver in about 1960 (Wenberg

2010). Vince’s daughters also become a train driver. According to Vince ‘She was a bit more radical

than I’. He explained how during the 1980s, all staff, including women, were expected to wear men’s

trousers but his daughter refused. ‘So eventually they had to get a women’s uniform for the train

drivers’ (Wenberg 2010).

Many employees who had the opportunity to develop skills, and take on the roles they desired spoke

of gaining a sense of satisfaction and enjoyment from their rail work. Vince Wenberg has described

how much he liked driving the old steam trains. Herb Shields, who was a train driver and locomotive

inspector in Queensland between the 1960s and 1980s also talks about loving his job. Herb said:

I loved that work … As a locomotive inspector you took classes and schools and you gave tuition on

different things. When the electric trains arrived, we got qualified to be able to give theory and

practical examinations on them. …

When I look back, I think it was a great time — a great job.

(Shields in Bitomsky & Milne 1995, p.20)

Lester Marks Harradine (2001), a Wurega man of Dimboola, Victoria, also became a train driver, and

subsequently stayed with the railways from the 1940s until 1980.

In many cases it was Aboriginal men who oversaw work gangs. Alec Kruger describes Arthur Ah Chee,

the Aboriginal ganger he worked under as:

a fair and reasonable boss. But he was really hard on people who didn’t turn up or who weren’t up

to doing their fair share of the work … He got the hard jobs done.

(Kruger & Waterford 2007, p.231)

Aboriginal gangers appointed and supervised workers of all nationalities. Aboriginal ganger Douglas

Walker (2005, p.9) talked about the diversity of railway workers he oversaw around Oodnadatta:

I was in charge of twenty-odd blokes, mainly white blokes, different mixture, Yugoslav, Italians,

white Australians, Aboriginal black Australians, and Englishmen, Irishmen.

Arthur Ah Chee was a ganger with the Northern Territory Railways. His son, Arthur Ah Chee, junior,

described the respect he received at work from Indigenous and non-Indigenous colleagues.

The Alice gang, sort of, was a special gang. With dad’s position, he was a ganger but he came up

to a position of senior ganger. When the road masters went on holidays, he was sort of relieving

road master and he was virtually … The way I saw my father, everyone looked up to him — even

Pat Hannaberry, who was Commissioner of Railways. They respected Dad in such a way that Dad

just did his own thing. (Ah Chee 2000)

Dunghutti man Ray Kelly was one of many Aboriginal men who came to Newcastle in his teens and

gained work with Smiths General Contractors, run by Koori brothers Robert and Bill Smith. Ray saw

his time growing up on the job at Smiths Brothers, with men he respected, as an important foundation

for his later work. He said: ‘Aboriginal people not regarded as citizens were suddenly running a

company within an industry. It’s important for young Aboriginal people to identify with these people’

(Kelly 1999).

Born in the 1930s to a railway father, Robert and Bill began working in rail the 1950s, first as

labourers and constructors, and later as surveyors and gangers. Although the Smith brothers had left

school at 13 years of age and had limited formal education, they knew how to construct and survey


railway tracks. In 1969 the Smith brothers formed Smiths General Contractors. They grew to become

the biggest private employer of Aboriginal people in the 1970s (Maynard 1999).

According to Ray Kelly, ‘everyone could get a go with Smiths’ (Kelly in Maynard 1999). The Smith

brothers employed hundreds of Aboriginal people from across Australia throughout the 1970s,

provided opportunities for these men and women to acquire skills across a range of roles, with many

becoming leading hands. According to Robert Smith: ‘We had good reliable foremen, surveyors,

engineers etc. We had semi-trailers, cranes and overhead loaders’ (R Smith in Maynard 1999)

According to Bill: ‘if they wanted railway line laid around the mountain, over the mountain, through

the mountain, over water or under water Smith Brothers would and could lay it!’ (B Smith in

Maynard 1999).

Jack McGinness, Head Ganger and first Indigenous Australian to be president of a major trade union,

was another Aboriginal man respected by both non-Indigenous and Indigenous co-workers. According

to a long-term, non-Indigenous Katherine resident, Henry Scott:

The railway people were the number one … I remember the bloke that run this town, ah, Jack

McGinness, he was a coloured man, but a terrific guy, well educated, and he was more or less the

mayor of the town. (quoted in Merlan 1998, p.189)

In a 2003 interview, Ted Egan described Jack McGinness as a ‘leading light’ and said ‘things would

have been so much better if sound people like him had been listened to’ (Egan 2003). His daughter

Mildred Morley noted how lack of formal schooling did not stop Jack McGinness from gaining seniority,

‘and yet, he had only about four years of formal school. And he went as high as anyone could go, or

almost, you could say’ (Morley 2000, p.7).

‘They cast a shadow to follow’

Involvement in the railways became a tradition in some families. Gamilaroi man Norman Munro,

for example, who spent decades with the railways from 1959, comes from a family with a long

railway history:

My parents were railway workers, Dad was a Per-way worker and Mum was a Gatekeeper. We have

a family tradition of approximately 100 years with my two brothers Lyall and Bruce both working

for the railways, as well as my three uncles. In the early days a lot of Aboriginal families could

only get work on the railways … I travelled to Newcastle and got a job with the railways on the 16

February 1959; I’ve been here ever since. It was always my dream to work on the railways, just

like my Dad. (Munro n.d.)

When Indigenous railway employees were working among other Indigenous people, railway work could

also provide opportunities for sharing cultural knowledge and gaining guidance from Elders. Arthur Ah

Chee, has talked about how his father provided guidance to and instilled leadership skills in the

Aboriginal people he worked with:

There were people like Don Ferguson who dad grew up. He’s a cousin to me, and Dad virtually

taught him to … Don took over where Dad left off and became as high as Dad was, senior Gangman

and all that, and old Mattie Styles took over from Don’s position in Alice Springs. (Ah Chee 2000)

Ray Kelly, former employer of the Koori-run company Smiths General Contracting, noted, for

example, how much he learned from the experience of working with older Aboriginal men. He said,

‘they cast a shadow to follow’ and ‘History lessons were conducted on site. Listening to these yarns

NCVER 45

and stories was all about good life skills’ (Kelly in Maynard 1999). Kelly suggested that working among

such ‘gentlemen’ instilled him with a sense of pride and confidence in being Aboriginal.

Several Indigenous singers, song writers and poets have paid tribute to these railway traditions. The

‘King of Country Music’, Troy Cassar-Daley (1999), in ‘Trains, trains, get down in your veins’ tells of

the significance of the railways in his family history, challenging views held by some non-Indigenous

employers that employment is not a significant part of the lives of Indigenous people:

My granddad and his mates were fettlers on the line

They worked the tracks right across the state

And every now and then

I talk to some old railway men

And they bring old grandads stories back again

My mother travelled far she ran the dining car

And the rattle and the clatter and the heat

She’d work the northern train

And head back south again

Sometimes I’d climb aboard and she’d take me

Trains, trains, get down in your veins

A number of railway employees and employers also demonstrated their ability to maintain leadership

roles in rail and their communities as well as maintain traditional cultural knowledge. The accounts of

Aboriginal elders including Jack McGinness, Charles Moran, William John Kennedy and Lester Marks

Harradine demonstrate how these Aboriginal workers were able to straddle majority and Indigenous

cultures, adapting to work in the white-dominated rail industry as well as maintaining Indigenous

knowledges and languages.

At the same time as making a home for himself on the railways, Charles Moran was able to maintain

his traditional knowledge. As he said:

My culture and bush skills were always with me to keep me whole, but now I began to realise the

need to be settled … It was better for my family — the children needed schooling.


For many generations Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander workers have demonstrated the importance

of valuing their skills and knowledge in the workplace. SF Davey (1966) in his paper on ‘The

recognition of Aboriginal cultural values in industry’ provides a number of examples of situations in

which Aboriginal workers were employed in environments where their traditional values and beliefs

were respected. These examples, as he suggested, ‘serve to indicate that the Aboriginal worker,

under proper conditions, can be as satisfactory as any other’ (p.276). In 1966 he stated:

There is obvious room for research into why the aboriginal workforce is proving unsatisfactory

under some circumstances. One area of enquiry must be concerned with reactions to the

acceptance, or ignoring or rejection of their traditional values. (Davey 1966, p.260).

It is disconcerting that half a century later so many workplaces have yet to recognise the value of

respecting the traditional views of Aboriginal people.


Linking the past with the present

Over the past three decades various governments have introduced a range of policies and programs

aimed at addressing Indigenous economic disadvantage.6 Recent programs have been geared to

encourage private sector engagement in vocational education and training and job creation for

Aboriginal people. In line with these government policies, many organisations, including a number of

rail corporations, have devised their own policies and programs, including equity and diversity

management plans, Indigenous engagement strategies and Reconciliation Action Plans (see Maughan

2008)7 as a means of promoting Indigenous employment. Strategies developed by rail companies to

engage Aboriginal Australians include the appointment of Aboriginal engagement officers, the running

of pre-employment programs, Indigenous mentoring schemes and cross-cultural awareness training.

Table 1 provides an outline of Indigenous employment rates and Indigenous employment policies and

programs for key Australian rail companies.

While there is insufficient space here to discuss the details of the various policies and programs of

each corporation and their relative strengths and flaws, what table 1 does indicate is that those rail

companies who have acted to develop policies and programs geared to support and promote

Indigenous engagement and employment tend to have higher rates of Aboriginal employment. It is

worth noting however that the extent to which such strategies do engage Aboriginal employees

depends on a range of factors, including various historical and cultural factors.

Table 1 Indigenous employment figures and initiatives of select rail corporations8

Company type Indigenous employees

Indigenous engagement programs/policies:

A Large state passenger rail corporation

2.1% Indigenous employee support network; Equity and diversity officers; Indigenous liaison officers; Pre-apprenticeship program; Indigenous cadetship program

B Small state passenger rail corporation

0.4% Currently no Indigenous engagement strategies in place but do plan to develop.

C Small-medium state passenger rail corporation

2% Reconciliation Action Plan; Indigenous liaison officers; Indigenous recruitment and retention strategy; Indigenous employee leave entitlements

D Large passenger rail and infrastructure corporation

2% Indigenous employment strategy, Indigenous employment/engagement officer

E Small international freight corporation operating across states

0 Currently no targeted Indigenous employment strategy; Recent consultation with Indigenous advisory board

While rail was once a major employer of Aboriginal people, as the table indicates, Aboriginal

employment rates in rail companies today are not high. Despite recent decades of policy and program

development and the ongoing development of Aboriginal employment strategies, Aboriginal

Australians still face greater difficulty in gaining work and keeping work in rail companies by

comparison with non-Aboriginal Australians. While figures were not available for Aboriginal employees

in skilled and management roles, interviews and consultations conducted with rail employers and

employees from 12 rail companies, including small, medium and large organisations, public and

6 For a history of Indigenous employment programs and policies since 1967 see Gray et al., 2012, p.5) 7 See for example Public Transport Authority of Western Australia, Railcorp, South Australian Department of Transport,

Energy and Infrastructure, Transfield Services, Sinclair Knight Merz, Queensland Rail. QR National, Thiess Australia, Downer EDI, John Holland Group, BHP Billiton, Laing O’Rourke.

8 These rail organisations were selected as they were participants in a study on Skills Recognition for the Rail Industry, funded by the Cooperative Research Centre for Rail Innovation from 2011—13 in which they were consulted regarding their Indigenous employment policies and programs and in which the author was a participating researcher.

NCVER 47

private, freight passenger and infrastructure corporations, found that most companies had few or no

Aboriginal employees in higher-level or better paid positions, and that Aboriginal Australians continue

to face significantly greater difficulty in gaining ‘skilled’ and management positions in the rail

industry (Maher 2012).

While many Aboriginal railway workers of the past were often encouraged into employment by friends

and family working in rail and often gained employment through Aboriginal ‘gangers’ and managers

who were in a position to recruit Aboriginal workers, Aboriginal job seekers and employees are now

faced with more formal recruitment and performance development practices. Discussions with equity

and diversity officers, trainers and assessors, human resource officers and Aboriginal employees in rail

companies today indicate that Aboriginal employees, when applying for jobs and promotion, may be

disadvantaged by the expectation to fit in with standard testing, recruitment and performance

development procedures that are based on non-Indigenous norms (Maher 2012). Furthermore,

assumptions remain that Aboriginal employees lack the skills and knowledge to take on leadership and

management roles (Norris 2010).

Aboriginal railway workers of past generations have described environments which in many cases

fostered constructive and respectful workplace relations and the support and respect of Aboriginal

and non-Aboriginal co-workers. There were Aboriginal workers in skilled and leadership positions who

built on and passed on their skills and knowledge, creating the conditions for co-workers to attain

skilled and management roles. Many Aboriginal families grew up and worked along the railways for

many generations and have come to view the railways as part of their culture (Ah Chee 2000;

Cassar-Daley 2006; R & B Smith in Maynard 1999). The industry could benefit from reflecting on what

it was about the railways that led many former Aboriginal people to feel a sense of pride and

confidence in their work and connection with their workplace. As Bill Smith (in Maynard 1999,

unpaged), has said:

hundreds and probably thousands of Aboriginals from all over Australia have worked for us and

been able to show that Aboriginal people when given a chance can be skilled workers.

Kaurna Elder Uncle Lewis O’Brien has pointed out that young Aboriginal people also need to know

about the history and stories of Aboriginal railway workers.9 As Ray Kelly has said, ‘they cast a shadow

to follow’, show the capabilities of Aboriginal people and the capacity to survive and in many cases

thrive in the workplace. Host and Milroy (2001) bring attention to ‘the enormous contribution of

Aboriginal people’ to the economy and workplace. They stress that being better informed about

Aboriginal labour history is important in dispelling mistaken assumptions about the insufficiencies of

Aboriginal people, which continue to impede Aboriginal labour force participation today.

Aboriginal railway workers have also described the difficulties and discrimination they faced at work.

While times have changed, with the more mechanised and privatised rail workforce of today,

Aboriginal people continue to face many of the same problems — deficit views of Aboriginality, less

engagement with formal education, expectations to fit in with the dominant culture — and the

perspectives of past generations of rail workers can continue to inform discussions on the issues

Aboriginal people continue to face in the workplace.

Reports assessing and discussing the effectiveness of Indigenous employment policies and programs,

while varied in their assessments, have tended to note that, while policies and programs have shown

some success, including improvements in vocational education and training among Indigenous people,

9 Personal communication with the author in 2012.


programs have not achieved significant success and are far from realising employment equality

(Dockery & Milsom 2007). According to the literature, oversights in recent government programs and

policies include that:

Many tend to focus on the ‘deficiencies’ of Aboriginal job seekers and equivalent attention needs

to be paid to identifying and responding to employer- and industry- related ‘deficiencies’ or

barriers that inhibit Aboriginal employment. (Constable 2009, p.23)

This research has identified a need to give more attention to overcoming deficit views of Indigenous

capability in employment policies and practice. Deficit approaches begin to break down when

Indigenous knowledge and perspectives are valued. Concerted efforts to listen to Indigenous

employees, educators and relevant experts, developing programs and policies from Indigenous

perspectives, active commitments to valuing the knowledge and views of Aboriginal people in the

workplace and committing to the employment of suitably experienced Aboriginal people in skilled and

higher level roles can all support this process. But answers to questions of how history might inform

more equitable Indigenous engagement policy and practice today also requires policy-makers,

program developers, educators and employers to engage in their own historical inquiries and critical

reflections into the ways current workplaces policies and practices might undervalue the contributions

and underestimate the capabilities of Aboriginal employers and employers. It requires employers,

policy-makers and decision-makers to acknowledge their own skill and knowledge gaps and to be open

to learning from Aboriginal knowledge holders.

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Bitomsky, M & Mylne, L 1995, Living on the line: a celebration of Queensland Rail workers and their families, CopyRight Publishing Company, Brisbane.

Cassar-Daley, T 1999, ‘Trains’, Big River album, Columbia records, Sydney.

——2006, ‘Enough rope’ interview with Andrew Denton, 26th June 2006, on ABC television.

Cohen, B 1987, To my delight: the autobiography of Bill Cohen: a grandson of the Gumbangarri, AIATSIS, Canberra.

Dodd, R 2002, Audio: Reg Dodd talks, in ‘Centenary of Federation: connecting the continent’, viewed 14 July 2012, <http://www.connectingthecontinent.com/marree/marreeaudio02d.htm>.

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Fisher, C 1991, Unity now, Perfection Press, Booval, Qld.

Fumagalli, M 1992, Southwest Noongar woman, Denmark Environment Centre, Denmark, WA.

Graham, T 1999, Mabo: life of an island man, original screenplay by Trevor Graham, Currency Press, Sydney.

Holt, A 2001, Forcibly removed, Magabala books, Broome.

Kelly, R 1999, Ray Kelly Interview, in Aboriginal steel workers speak, ed. John Maynard, Ngoroe-Kah Indigenous Performance Aboriginal Corporation, NSW.

Kruger, A & Waterford, G 2007, Alone on the soaks, IAD Press, NT.

McGinness, J 1991, Joe McGinness: son of Alyandabu, University of Queensland Press, St Lucia.

McGinness, V 1984, Northern Territory Archives Service, oral history transcript 1984 TS 532; TP 521.

Marks Harradine, L 2001, Interviewed at Dimboola on 23 January 2001, Victorians at War Oral History Project.

Maynard, J 1999, Aboriginal steel workers speak, Ngoroe-Kah Indigenous Performance Aboriginal Corporation, NSW.

Moran, C & Moran, G 2004, Talk softly, listen well: profile of Bundjalung elder, Charles Moran, Southern Cross University Press, Lismore.

http://www.connectingthecontinent.com/marree/marreeaudio02d.htm

http://www.motorcyclemeanders.com/reg_dodd_storie_39.html

NCVER 49

Morley, M 2000, Oral history interview conducted during family research on the life of the late Jack McGinness. Interviewed by Di Koser, June 2000 in Katherine, Series NTRS 226 Item TS 965, Northern Territory Archives Service Oral History Unit, Darwin.

Munro, N (no date), Join Our Team, Railcorp, NSW.

O’Brien, L & Gale, M-A 2007, And the clock struck thirteen, Wakefield Press, Adelaide.

Owen, I 1993, Interview with Ivy Ellen Owen [sound recording], Interviewer: Shirley Peisley, Aboriginal families of the South East, 1993, State Library of South Australia, Oral history OH 198/4.

Perkins, C 1975, A bastard like me, Ure Smith, Sydney.

Redfern Oral History 2012, Eveleigh Railway workshops, viewed April 2012, <http://redfernoralhistory.org/Timeline/18801988EveleighWorkshops/tabid/249/Default.aspx>.

Skeene, G 2008, Two cultures: children from the Aboriginal camps and reserves in Cairns city, Rams Skull Press, Qld.

Smith, B 1999, Bill Smith interview, in Aboriginal steel workers speak, ed. J Maynard, Ngoroe-Kah Indigenous Performance Aboriginal Corporation, NSW.

Smith, R 1999, Robert Smith interview in Aboriginal steel workers speak, ed. J Maynard, Ngoroe-Kah Indigenous Performance Aboriginal Corporation, NSW.

Strangways, B 2011, You have to survive somehow, Nyiri Publications, Murray Bridge.

Stuart, R 2000, Interview with Rex Stuart conducted by Jude Elton, Australian Workers’ & North Australian Workers’ Union relations with Aboriginal workers to 1975, State Library of South Australia (OH 589).

Walker, D 2005, Interviewed by Sally Stephenson at Oodnadatta, State Library of South Australia.

Wenberg, V 2010, Interviewed by Ann-Mari Jordens in the Bringing Them Home after the Apology oral history project, recorded on 23 February 2010 at the National Library of Australia, Canberra (ORAL TRC 5000/319).

Williams, M 2010, From little things big things grow: fighting for Indigenous rights 1920—1970, travelling exhibition developed and presented by the National Museum of Australia tracing the fight for Indigenous civil rights in Australia from 1920 to 1970, <http://www.nma.gov.au/exhibitions/from_little_things_ big_things_grow/personal_stories/personal_stories_transcripts#pageindex23>.

General references Arbon, V 2008, Arlathirnda ngurkarnda ityirnda: being—knowing—doing: de-colonising indigenous tertiary

education, Post Pressed, Teneriffe, Qld. ABS (Australian Bureau of Statistics) 2011, Labour force characteristics of Aboriginal and Torres Strait

Islander Australians, estimates from the Labour Force Survey, cat.no.6287.0, ABS, Canberra.

Bacchi, C 2009, Analysing policy: what’s the problem represented to be?, Pearson Australia, NSW.

Barani: Aboriginal labour in the city 2002, Sydney City Council, <http://www.cityofsydney.nsw.gov.au/barani/themes/theme11.htm>.

Behrendt, P 1994, ‘The importance of oral history to Aboriginal society’, OHAA Journal, no.16.

Bretherton, T, Evesson, J & Yu, S 2012, Working Indigenous Australians, Generation One and Workplace Research Centre, University of Sydney.

Constable, J 2009, Engaging Aboriginal Australians in the private sector: a consultative report into aboriginal employment strategies and initiatives, final report, NAB-DCA Research Project, Diversity Council Australia Limited.

Davey, SF 1966, ‘The recognition of Aboriginal cultural values in industry’, in Aborigines in the economy: employment, wages and training, eds IG Sharp & C Tatz, Jacaranda Press and Centre for Research into Aboriginal Affairs, Melbourne.

Davis, M 2012, Aboriginal connections with Eveleigh: report prepared for the Sydney Metropolitan Development Authority, <http://www.smda.nsw.gov.au/sites/default/files/file_root/PDFs/ Development/RedfernWaterloo/AB_Connections_Eveleigh_report.pdf>.

de Plevitz, LR 2000, ‘The failure of Australian legislation on indirect discrimination to detect the systemic racism which prevents Aboriginal people from fully participating in the workforce’, PhD thesis, Queensland University of Technology.

Dockery, AM 2013, Cultural dimensions of Indigenous participation in vocational education and training: new perspectives, NCVER, Adelaide.

Dockery, AM & Milsom, N 2007, A review of Indigenous employment programs, NCVER, Adelaide.

Egan, T 2003, Ted Egan interviewed by Bill Gammage.

Fleras, A & Elliott, JL 2006, Unequal relations: an introduction to race, ethnic, and Aboriginal dynamics in Canada, 5th edn, Pearson Education, Canada.

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Fredericks, B 2007, ‘Utilising the concept of pathway as a framework for Indigenous research’, Australian Journal of Indigenous Education vol.36(S), pp.15—22.

——2008, ‘The need to extend beyond the knowledge gained in cross-cultural awareness training’, The Australian Journal of Indigenous Education 37S, pp.81—9.

——2009, ‘An exploration of issues associated with “getting a job” in the health sector’, International Journal of Critical Indigenous Studies, <www.isrn.qut.edu.au>.

Gray, M, Hunter, B & Lohoar, S 2012, Increasing Indigenous employment rates, Issues paper no.3, Closing the Gap Clearinghouse, Australian Institute of Health and Welfare, Canberra.

Host, J & Milroy, J 2001, ‘Towards an Aboriginal labour history’, Wordal, Studies in Western Australian History, vol.22, pp.3—22.

Hunter, B & Gray, M 2002, ‘Family and social factors underlying the labour force status of Indigenous Australians’, Family Matters, Australian Institute of Family Studies, no.62, Winter, 2002.

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Lowry, D & Moskos, M 2007, ‘Labour force participation as a determinant of Indigenous health’, chapter 6, in Beyond bandaids: exploring the underlying social determinants of aboriginal health, eds I Anderson, F Baum & M Bentley, CRC for Aboriginal Health, Canberra.

Lui-Chivizhe, L 2011, ‘Making history: Torres Strait Islander railway workers and the 1968 Mt Newman track-laying record’, Aboriginal History Journal, vol. 35.

Maher, K 2012, ‘“If you want to do this job, you do it the same as them”: Recognition of the Skills and Knowledge of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander and Culturally Diverse Workers in the Australian Rail Industry’, peer reviewed paper accepted for the Australian Vocational Education and Training Research Association (AVETRA) 15th Annual Conference, 2012, Canberra, 11—13 April.

Maughan, C 2008, Indigenous employment in the Australian rail industry, Australasian Railway Association and Business Group Australia, Canberra.

Merlan, F 1998, Caging the rainbow: places, politics, and Aborigines in a North Australian town, University of Hawaii Press, Honolulu.

Morrison, A, Davies, L, Maher, K & Cameron, R 2012, ‘Skills recognition in the Australian rail industry: opportunities and challenges’, in the refereed proceedings of the Australian Vocational Education and Training Association Conference (AVETRA), Canberra Australia, 11—13 April 2012.

Norris, R 2010, The more things change: the origins and impact of Australian Indigenous economic exclusion, Post Pressed, Queensland.Reconciliation Australia 2013, Reconciliation Action Plan impact measurement report 2012, Reconciliation Australia, Canberra.

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——2010, The politics of the data: how the Australian statistical Indigene is constructed’, International Journal of Critical Indigenous Studies, vol.3, no.2, pp.45—56.

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http://www.slsa.sa.gov.au/manning/sa/aborigines/1858.htm

NCVER 51

Enhancing employability skills and graduate attributes through work-integrated learning Leanne Baker Southern Cross University

Abstract

Universities need to be strategic about engaging employers in employability skill development and

evaluation. This paper demonstrates how one university successfully did this using a work-integrated

learning program. The School of Tourism and Hospitality Management at Southern Cross University

features a five-month, full-time internship at the end of each degree. Over a three year period

Southern Cross University engaged employers as external assessors to evaluate key employability skills

and graduate attributes gained by students during their studies. This process provided important

feedback to the university, students and industry on the development and assessment of key skills.

This type of strategic approach to engaging employers provides a deeper understanding of how skills

developed in the classroom can be further enhanced and applied within the workplace while helping

to ensure an appropriate match between education and labour market demands.

The aim of this paper is to demonstrate how the process of engaging employers to provide feedback

on student skills can be embedded in work-integrated learning to assist students, employers and the

university. Exploration of the following questions supports this overarching aim:

How do employers rank the importance of the School of Tourism and Hospitality Management’s

nominated graduate attributes/employability skills?

What ratings do employers give on student performance in the workplace for each of these skills?

Are there significant gaps between employer-ranked skill importance and actual student skill

performance?

How do employers rate student work performance and employability at the end of their three-year

degree?

Are there specific skills and attributes which may help predict student employability?

The methodology included analysis of 330 supervisor evaluation forms from all final year students

completing internships in tourism, hospitality and events industries across a three year period. These

data were used to gain an externally based quantitative assessment of students’ workplace

performance of key employability skills and graduate attributes at the end of their studies.

The findings show that employers rated students highly on their attainment of graduate attributes and

employability. By ranking the importance of nominated skills against skill importance and skill

performance, gaps in expectations could be identified and the notion of potential predictors of

graduate employability emerged. It also identified priority skills for development and how this

information can be used to improve relationships between industry and academia, curriculum, overall


graduate learning outcomes and quality assurance processes. These outcomes can be vital in developing

a better match between industry labour market requirements and tertiary education programs.

In summary, taking a strategic approach to engaging employers in assessing student skills in the

workplace is effective and allows employers to become an integral part of curriculum development

and the quality assurance processes.

Introduction

In Australia’s current environment of funding cuts and the increasing focus on quality assurance

mechanisms, universities need to be even more strategic about engaging employers in developing and

evaluating the graduate attributes and employability skills of their students. By way of introduction,

examples of commonly cited employability skills include communication and team work. Graduate

attributes also include these same two qualities plus others such as intellectual rigour and ethical

practice. More detailed examples and definitions of the overlaps between employability skills and

graduate attributes will be discussed in the Background section of this paper.

This paper demonstrates how the School of Tourism and Hospitality Management at Southern Cross

University successfully took a strategic approach to embedding employer evaluations into its work-

integrated learning program to benefit students, employers and the university/School. For programs

that prioritise industry relevance and industry partnerships, this project demonstrates how it is

possible to embed an effective means of maintaining strong industry partnerships and evidence-based

curriculum improvement and quality assurance. Since 2007 Southern Cross University has engaged

with employers as external assessors to evaluate key employability skills and graduate attributes

gained by students during their studies. This information is gathered twice a year, providing

systematic feedback on student/new graduate performance in the workplace and industry satisfaction

as well as perceptions of the quality and content of the School’s degrees.

This paper demonstrates how strategically embedding the process and feedback from employer

evaluations in work-integrated learning can benefit students, employers and the university. In

supporting this overarching aim, the actual results and the utility of the information provided by

employers across 2007, 2008 and 2009 is assessed including:

The importance employers place on the School’s nominated graduate attributes/employability

skills and how employers rank these.

How employers rate student performance in the workplace for each of these graduate attributes/

employability skills.

Identification of any significant gaps between employer ranked skill importance and actual student

skill performance.

An overall analysis of student work performance and employability at the end of students’ three

year degrees.

Investigation of skills and attributes which may help predict employability of students.

Also identified are some of the benefits and limitations of this process. Future directions for improved

benchmarking of employability skills and continued involvement of employers in the work-integrated

learning evaluation processes are also considered.

Much is published on the importance of achieving mutually beneficial relationships with industry, but

there is little detail on how to achieve this (Oliver 2011; Orrell 2011). Also limited is information on

NCVER 53

successful implementation strategies relating to using work-integrated learning as a cost-effective

way of gaining graduate attribute performance measures in the workplace and how this process can

be used as a cost-effective quality assurance mechanism (see for example Cullen 2007; Oliver, 2008;

Oliver et al. 2007).

This paper presents an innovative approach on how universities can better integrate and formalise the

process of providing employers with a strong and valid voice on their training requirements and

expectations. It also demonstrates how to strategically develop an empirical evidence base that can

enhance curriculum content and design, something identified as lacking in many Australian

undergraduate business schools (Jackson 2009), and something that work-integrated learning provides

the ideal context for achieving.

Establishing such an evidence base is particularly important, given the increasing emphasis on

knowledge economies and increased focus on effective workplace learning as being a key aspect of a

nation’s wealth, well-being and development of social capital (Down 2006). Using quality assurance

methods that effectively incorporate employer feedback assists this process. This paper reviews and

explains the successful three year implementation of such a process.

Background

The benefits of work-integrated learning to students, industry employers and educational institutions

are widely acknowledged. For example, Dressler and Keeling (2011) summarised over 100 research

studies of student benefits from work-integrated learning around academic, personal, career and

work skill development themes. An international review of 19 research studies on the benefits of

work-integrated learning to employers found more than 30 distinct advantages, ranging from

improved recruitment and retention through to gaining higher-quality, more productive employees

(Braunstein et al. 2011). Universities can gain advantage through work-integrated learning to

differentiate courses, improve graduate employability career paths, renew curriculum, develop staff

and align resources (Crump & Mary 2011). This paper outlines further advantages that can be gained

by all three stakeholders from using work-integrated learning to strategically evaluate and develop

graduate attributes and employability skills.

The work-integrated learning program incorporated in Southern Cross University, School of Tourism

and Hospitality Management degrees requires a minimum 20 week, 600 hour internship (compulsory

work placement) for each of its four main degrees: Bachelor of Business in Tourism Management;

Bachelor of Sport Tourism Management; Bachelor of Hotel and Resort Management; and Bachelor of

Business in Convention and Event Management. Enrolment in the four core internship units and

completion of assessment requirements equate to one semester of full-time study credit.

Internship units are key elements of the work-integrated learning program and are core subjects in

each of these degrees, allowing students to complete internships at different stages of their study, for

example, during summer breaks, or concurrently with part-time studies, and/or with multiple

employers. The term ‘internship’ is used interchangeably with ‘work-integrated learning placement’

or ‘work placement’ units in this paper. Students can choose to undertake their internship anywhere

in Australia or internationally (visa regulations permitting). The majority of students complete their

internship during their final semester by working full-time for one employer in their chosen industry

sector. On completion of the internship, students are able to stay with their employer as a permanent

employee if a position exists, because they have completed their studies. This presents a valuable

opportunity for the School of Tourism and Hospitality Management to gain employer evaluations of


graduate attribute and employability skill levels at the final stage of a student’s degree. It is also an

effective way of measuring ‘brand new’ graduate employability skills because the end of work-

integrated learning placement is also the starting point for graduate employment. This is particularly

pertinent to strategies of employer engagement, given that approximately 90% of employers indicate

a willingness to retain interns at the completion of their placement and 60—75% of students stay on

with their internship employer.

The integrated approach to embedding the work-integrated learning program and scaffolded

development of graduate attributes and employability skills is illustrated in figure 1. Industry is a key

strategic partner in this process, with opportunities for students and employers to interact at the

annual Tourism and Hospitality Careers Day from Year 1. Combined with exposure to weekly, emailed

job advertisements, students gain an introduction to the expectations of employers and types of

entry-level roles available. This assists in clarifying links with subjects studied and potential

employment outcomes, a motivational factor important in student engagement, retention and

academic performance (Lizzio & Wilson 2010).

Figure 1 Southern Cross University, School of Tourism and Hospitality Management, Work Integrated Learning Process

Source: Baker & Caldicott, cited in Baker, Caldicott & Spowart (2011).

Year 2 concentrates on further preparing students to undertake their work-integrated learning

placement and involves industry in mock interviews and guest presentations in the core Professional

Development for the Workplace unit. The final semester of Year 3 is generally when students enrol in

the internship and work full-time with an internship employer for approximately five months. Careful

mapping of graduate attributes across the process has been undertaken to better track and facilitate

learning outcomes.

Employability skills

Alongside the focus on graduate attributes, universities have increasingly prioritised employability

over the last decade (Oliver 2008, 2011). Employability skills are intertwined with graduate

attributes, with some seeing ‘employability skills’ as a subset of ‘graduate attributes’ (Precision

Consultancy 2007). Others see the terms as interchangeable, for example, the Department of

Education, Employment and Workplace Relations (DEEWR) stated on its website that, ‘In the higher

education sector, graduate employability skills are generally referred to as graduate attributes’

(DEEWR 2013). They go on to define employability skills as:

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the non-technical skills and knowledge necessary for effective participation in the workforce.

They can include skills such as communication, self-management, problem solving and teamwork.

They are also sometimes referred to as generic skills, capabilities, enabling skills or key

competencies.

This overlaps definitions of graduate attributes, but also alludes to a list-based approach to defining

employability. List-based frameworks of employability, while pragmatic, are based on the premise

that it is possible and desirable to clearly define all elements of employability. One of the better

known of these frameworks is the Employability Skills Framework, developed by the Australian

Chamber of Commerce and Industry and the Business Council of Australia (DEST 2002). This includes

eight employability skills: communication; team work; problem solving; initiative and enterprise;

planning and organising; self-awareness; learning; and technology. More recently a new employability

skills framework has been proposed by the Department of Education, Employment and Workplace

Relations to overcome identified limitations (Ithaca Group 2012) and spans the whole education

sector. Research, however, indicates that employers often value more than what can be contained in

such skills-based lists (Hinchcliffe & Jolly 2011; Holmes 2001, 2011; Tomlinson 2012), and thus serves

as an important reminder of potential limitations arising from such convenient frameworks.

Further demonstrating how intertwined graduate attributes and employability skills have become is

Yorke’s (2006) widely accepted definition of employability, which Oliver (2011) notes, echoes the

graduate attribute statements of many universities. Yorke defines employability as:

a set of achievements — skills, understandings and personal attributes — that makes graduates

more likely to gain employment and be successful in their chosen occupations, which benefits

themselves, the workforce, the community and the economy. (Yorke 2006, p.8)

This definition focuses on the individual and does not take into account the impacts of external

factors such as economic climate, labour market supply and demand and other issues such as

disability and availability to work. To overcome this potential weakness, there is a need to consider

the broader contextual influences on employability and the differing dimensions underpinning this

concept, including human capital, skills, social reproduction, positional conflict and identity

(Tomlinson 2012).

Overall, there is a well-established link between employability and graduate attributes within

Australia, UK, Europe and USA, (see, for example, Hager & Holland 2006) and Yorke (2010) presents a

strong rationale for incorporating employability into university curricula. These concepts will be

further explored in the next sections.

Graduate attributes

To better understand the links between employability and graduate attributes, it is important to

consider how we define graduate attributes. We are increasingly hearing terms such as generic skills,

generic attributes, graduate attributes, work readiness and employability skills, with many of these

terms being used interchangeably. It is important to differentiate between the meanings of these

terms, however, as they have implications for the role and importance of work-integrated learning in

developing and evaluating such skills. While generic skills, or generic attributes, are often used

interchangeably with graduate attributes, Hager and Holland (2006) note that generic attributes

should be considered as a meta-level term that refers to skill components, attitudes, values and

dispositions that are important for all roles in life, but in particular to prepare for the workplace and

are typically significant components of improved teaching and learning initiatives. Hager and Holland


(2006, p.2) assert that within a higher education context, graduate attributes is the most appropriate

term and define these as:

thinking skills, such as logical and analytical reasoning, problem solving and, intellectual curiosity;

effective communication skills, teamwork skills, and capacities to identify, access and manage

knowledge and information; personal attributes such as imagination, creativity and intellectual

rigour; and values such as ethical practice, persistence, integrity and tolerance.

There is agreement that graduate attributes are considered by many as an orientating statement of

education outcomes, used to inform curriculum design and the provision of learning experiences at a

university (Barrie 2009) and are work and life skills that are:

recognised globally as a critical outcome of modern university education … provide the context in

which disciplinary knowledge is demonstrated and are seen to underpin university graduates’

capacity to perform effectively in an increasingly globalised and complex workplace and to

contribute within a diverse community. (de la Harpe et al. 2009, p.1)

The interwoven nature of employability skills and graduate attributes can be better understood by

considering more of the history and meaning behind graduate attributes. Graduate attributes have

been increasingly spotlighted since the 1990s (Barrie 2004; Campbell 2010; Hager 2006; Precision

Consultancy 2007). Barrie et al. (2009) contend that this aligns with how universities and governments

within Australia are affirming the need for university education to focus on the development of

graduate attributes, including links to government funding, quality assurance and curriculum

development projects.

The recent introduction of the Tertiary Education Quality Standards Agency (TEQSA) Provider

Registration Standards further emphasises the importance of graduate attributes to the tertiary

sector. TEQSA requires universities to, ‘provide for appropriate development of key graduate

attributes in students’ (2011, p.14) and have ‘effective arrangements to assure the quality of student

work placements, practicum and other forms of work-integrated learning in the course of study,

including assuring the quality of supervision’ (p.16). Such legislation emphasises the need for

universities to not only develop graduate attributes, but to provide evidence of this development.

This paper demonstrates how it is possible to efficiently and systematically maintain such an evidence

base by integrating data collection processes into existing systems and processes. By taking a strategic

approach to engaging and partnering with employers in helping to develop and evaluate graduate

attributes, the School of Tourism and Hospitality Management has found that work-integrated learning

can be used to develop graduate attribute and employability skills while also gaining meaningful

industry feedback on student/new graduate performance in the workplace. Developing a strong

partnership with industry helps employers to better understand the content of the School of Tourism

and Hospitality Management degrees, positively influencing employer beliefs as advocated by Cai

(2013) and gives industry a formal role in assessing the strengths and weaknesses of the students and

curriculum. This paper makes a contribution to the call for research to address gaps relating to

effective, sustainable collaborations and partnerships (Reeve & Gallacher 2005).

That universities should actively ensure students are ‘work ready’ seems to be the underlying

assumption of a number of recent Australian learning and teaching reports centring around graduate

attributes (see for example de la Harpe et al. 2009; Oliver & Whelan 2011; Smith et al. 2009; Taylor &

Thompson 2009) and industry and government reports (AC Nielsen Research Services 2000; ACCI 2002;

Australian Industry Group & Deloitte 2009; Ithaca Group 2012; Precision Consultancy 2007) and the

Bradley Review of Higher Education(2008). The importance of learning and developing graduate

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attributes and employability skills through experiential learning opportunities in the rich and complex

workplace environment is emphasised by a number of researchers (see, for example, Beckett &

Mulcahy 2006; Cranmer 2006; Te Wiata 2006). Work-integrated learning provides a useful and

appropriate means of accommodating the disciplinary contextualisation of graduate attributes noted

as important for definition and development (Barrie 2006; Bowden, Hart, Trigwell, & Watts 2000).

There is also evidence that graduate attributes can strengthen the underpinning pedagogies of work-

integrated learning, as well as influence and motivate support for developing appropriate graduate

attributes (see, for example, Barrie et al. 2009; Boud & Solomon 2006).

The main differentiating factor between employability skills and graduate attributes is that at the

heart of employability is a focus on getting and maintaining satisfying employment, whereas at the

heart of graduate attributes is the bigger picture emphasis on citizenship. Employability can be

viewed as a subset of graduate attributes, and work-integrated learning thus becomes an appropriate

environment for developing these integrated skills. This paper refers to both graduate attributes and

employability skills throughout as a reminder of the difference in emphasis that comes from close

examination of these terms. This project is designed to evaluate ways of measuring the development

of graduate attributes and employability skills during work-integrated learning and how this

information can be used to benefit students, employers and universities.

Method

The methodology for this study is based on the analysis of data collected from employers about the

workplace performance of students completing internships in the School of Tourism and Hospitality

Management at Southern Cross University.

After experiencing difficulties in gaining feedback on their graduates in the workplace, the School of

Tourism and Hospitality Management revised its existing supervisor evaluation form to incorporate a

set of graduate attribute questions. By doing so, it was possible to obtain meaningful feedback from

employers who were in roles that allowed them to make reliable and valid comments about students

who were technically on the verge of being new graduates.

The newly revised supervisor evaluation form was piloted in late 2006—early 2007 and formally

introduced from Semester 2 in 2007. This paper includes an analysis of the 330 forms returned from

Semester 2 in 2007 until the end of Semester 2 in 2009. From 2008 onwards, all employers

completed the new form as a compulsory component of each internship student’s university

assessment requirements.

The form asked employers to rate student performance on 15 identified skills as well as to rank the

importance of those skills. This list of skills was kept to a single page and comprised:

a Capacity to learn new skills and procedures

b Appropriate personal presentation and grooming

c Punctuality and attendance

d Computer skills

e Knowledge of the industry/sector within both local and international contexts

f Awareness of cultural, environmental and economic impacts of tourism and hospitality management

g Written communication skills

h Interpersonal communication skills

i Capacity to appreciate different cultural perspectives/intercultural competence

j Commitment to ethical standards and professionalism


k Proactive, responsive and adaptable to change

l Ability to manage large volumes of information from various sources (information literacy)

m Have the analytical and problem solving skills needed to work effectively

n Capacity for co-operation and teamwork

o Positive work attitude and work ethic

This list was based on a combination of skills and attributes historically assessed through work-

integrated learning by the School of Tourism and Hospitality Management with the addition of

graduate attributes that had been contextualised to the disciplines taught by the School as part of a

university-wide project on graduate attributes. This list is mapped against the university and the

School of Tourism and Hospitality Management’s contextualised interpretation of the university

graduate attributes in table 1. Through mapping this list it is possible to see that the graduate

attributes of intellectual rigour and reflective practice would be more appropriately assessed through

separate assessment items, which would be marked by academic staff.

Historically, Computer skills; Appropriate personal presentation and grooming; and Punctuality and

attendance were specific employability skills that could be deemed to contribute to overall industry

professionalism and had always been assessed enthusiastically by supervisors in earlier versions of the

Supervisor Evaluation form. At first glance, these skills do not obviously map to the broader Southern

Cross University graduate attribute of Command of an area of knowledge. However, they were

retained as assessable items because they are deemed to fall within the concept of ‘discipline

knowledge’, because they are specific components of knowing what is needed to make a smooth

transition into professional settings.

Students were briefed on the assessable skills contained in the supervisor evaluation forms prior to

starting their work-integrated learning placement. Separate unit evaluation results over the years

confirmed that students believed the supervisor evaluation form was a worthwhile addition to their

learning and a valuable assessment item.

Employers were made aware of the requirement to complete the supervisor evaluation form as a

condition of hosting a student on work-integrated learning, prior to being allowed to advertise

potential work-integrated learning vacancies. All employers indicated their willingness to meet this

obligation and received a hard copy of the form as part of their welcome information pack. This

ensured advance awareness of the types of skills on which they would be assessing students and

helped to build understanding of the types of skills and abilities expected to be developed and

demonstrated by students.

Based on the data collected, an employer-based quantitative assessment of students’ workplace

performance of the 15 key employability skills and graduate attributes at the end of their studies was

generated. Employer assessment of skill performance and skill importance were rated on a 5-point

Likert scale and a paired sample t-test was used to compare how employers rated students on each skill

compared with the importance the employer placed on the skill. Multiple regression was also used to

identify potential predictors of employability. There was a 100% return rate of forms, providing robust

data on student attainment of these skills based on approximately five months in the workplace.

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Table 1 Southern Cross University and School of Tourism and Hospitality Management graduate attributes 2006

Southern Cross University graduate attributes

Graduate attributes contextualised to discipline – School of Tourism and Hospitality Management

Elements assessed by supervisors in the supervisor evaluation form

Intellectual rigour – a commitment to excellence in all scholarly and intellectual activities, including critical judgment.

Demonstrate a commitment to excellence in all scholarly and intellectual activities.

Not assessed by supervisors – instead assessed by academic staff through a written report.

Creativity – a commitment to achieving imaginative and creative responses to intellectual, professional and social challenges.

Be creative, strategic and critical thinkers with highly developed problem solving skills.

Have the analytical and problem solving skills needed to work effectively.

Ethical understanding and a commitment to the highest ethical standards and sensitivity to moral issues and conflicts.

Demonstrate an understanding of ethical standards and professionalism.

Commitment to ethical standards and professionalism.

Command an area of knowledge to enable a smooth transition to professional or other scholarly settings.

Demonstrate substantial knowledge of tourism and hospitality industries within both local and international contexts.

Have a deep understanding of those skills relevant to working and managing in tourism and / or hospitality.

Demonstrate awareness of the cultural, environmental and economic impacts of tourism and hospitality management.

Knowledge of the industry/sector within both local and international contexts.

Awareness of cultural, environmental and economic impacts of tourism and hospitality management.

Computer skills. Appropriate personal presentation

and grooming. Punctuality and attendance.

Lifelong learning – the ability to be responsive to change, to be reflective in practice and to be information-literate in order to update one’s knowledge through independent and self-directed learning.

Be lifelong independent learners, reflective in practice, and information literate.

Exhibit a positive work attitude and work ethic in order to achieve successful outcomes.

Capacity to learn new skills and procedures.

Positive work attitude and work ethic.

Proactive, responsive and adaptable to change.

Ability to manage large volumes of information from various sources (information literacy).

NB: Reflective practice – not assessed by supervisors – but is assessed by academic staff in a separate assessment item.

Effective communication and social skills – the ability to communicate and collaborate in ways that are appropriate in scholarly, professional and social settings.

Communicate effectively, and be self-aware and empathetic.

Demonstrate understanding of team dynamics and the ability to be effective team members.

Written communication skills. Interpersonal communication

skills. Capacity for co-operation and

teamwork.

Cultural awareness – a global world view encompassing a cosmopolitan outlook as well as local perspective on social and cultural issues, together with an informed respect for cultural and Indigenous identity.

Be culturally tolerant and demonstrate appropriate intercultural competence.

Capacity to appreciate different cultural perspectives/intercultural competence.

Results

This section examines the results of supervisor evaluation feedback from employers relating to the

following analyses of student/new graduate skills and attributes:

ranking of skill importance

rating of student skill levels

comparison of skill importance with skill rating

rating of student overall work performance


rating of overall student employability

exploration of skills that may predict employer willingness to employ students.

Employer rankings of skill importance

For the years 2007, 2008, 2009, all employers were asked to rate the importance of each of the 15

designated skills to their organisation on a scale of 1—5 (1 = very low and 5 = very high). This was

done at the end of their student’s five-month internship placement.

The mean ratings of the employers’ perceived importance of each skill was analysed using a one-way

repeated measures analysis of variance (ANOVA) with alpha set at 0.05. Assumptions of normality

were satisfactory. Mauchly’s Test of Sphericity was significant χ2(104)=1121.31, p<0.05 and thus the

Greenhouse-Geisser correction was used to interpret the model. Thus the 15 skills were not

considered to be equally important, F(8.09, 2158.68)=77.98, p<0.05. Post-hoc comparisons were

conducted using the built-in SPSS ‘repeated’ contrasts comparing each skill to the one immediately

above it.

The mean ratings of the employers’ perceived importance of each skill across the three years are

shown in table 2 in ranked order. This provides useful operational information, which can be used by

work-integrated learning lecturers and administrative staff when preparing students for internship and

briefing them on specific skills that School of Tourism and Hospitality Management internship and

graduate employers are seeking. This information is particularly useful when teaching students about

how to brand and present themselves in written applications and at the interview because it helps

them to better understand the types of skills and experiences that are sought after by employers.

Table 2 Employer ranking of skill importance, overall 2007, 2008 and 2009

Tier Rank Importance of skill to employer N Mean SD

A 1 Positive work attitude and work ethic 268 4.82 0.44

2 Capacity for cooperation and teamwork 268 4.79 0.49

B 3 Interpersonal communication skills 268 4.72 0.53

4 Punctuality and attendance 268 4.69 0.55

4 Capacity to learn new skills and procedures 268 4.69 0.53

6 Commitment to ethical standards and professionalism 268 4.64 0.61

6 Proactive, responsive and adaptable to change 268 4.64 0.58

C 8 Appropriate personal presentation and grooming 268 4.45 0.75

9 Have the analytical and problem solving skills needed to work effectively

268 4.43 0.71

10 Ability to manage large volumes of information from various sources (information literacy)

268 4.39 0.75

11 Written communication skills 268 4.34 0.81

D 12 Capacity to appreciate different cultural perspectives/ intercultural competence

268 4.16 0.92

E 13 Computer skills 268 4.00 1.08

14 Knowledge of the industry/sector within both local and international contexts

268 3.87 0.94

15 Awareness of cultural, environmental and economic impacts of tourism and hospitality management

268 3.78 0.98

The lines in table 2 denote where there is a statistically significant difference between skill rankings.

This tells us that, while Positive work attitude and work ethic and Capacity for cooperation and

teamwork can be ranked as 1 and 2 by employers, there is no statistically significant difference

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between these two skills. Instead, they can be considered as a cluster of skills that are equally

important and, together, are the most valued by employers. Tier B forms the second most valued

cluster of skills and Tier C is the third most valued cluster of skills. Capacity to appreciate different

cultural perspectives/intercultural competence stands on its own in Tier D and Tier E contains the

lowest ranked cluster of skills.

Employer ratings of student skill levels

For the years 2007, 2008 and 2009, all employers were asked to rate their internship student’s actual

skill levels at the end of their placement for each of the 15 designated skills, using a scale of 1—5 (1 =

very low and 5 = very high). Employers could also enter a score of Unable to assess as not all skills are

relevant or demonstrable in all internship roles.

The mean ratings given by employers for student performance of each skill level was analysed using a

one-way repeated measures analysis of variance (ANOVA) with alpha set at 0.05. Assumptions of

normality were satisfactory. Mauchly’s Test of Sphericity was significant χ2(104)=427.94, p<0.05 and

thus the Greenhouse-Geisser correction was used to interpret the model. It was found that

performance levels of skills were not considered to be equal F(10.70, 2301.44)=54.91, p<0.05. Post-

hoc comparisons were conducted using the built-in SPSS ‘repeated’ contrasts, comparing each skill

performance level with the one immediately above it.

The mean rating of the employer’s assessment of student skill performance levels is shown in table 3

in ranked order and this provides useful information that work-integrated learning lecturers and

administrative staff can use when briefing and preparing students to undertake a work-integrated

learning placement.

The lines in table 3 denote where there is a statistically significant difference between skill

performance levels. This tells us that while Positive work attitudes and work ethic and Punctuality

and attendance and Capacity for cooperation and teamwork can be ranked as 1 and equal second by

employers, there is no statistically significant difference between the performance levels of these

three skills. Instead, they can be considered as a cluster of skills that have been performed equally

well by students, and have been labelled Tier A. Tier B forms the next cluster, containing ten skills

that have been equally rated by employers. Tier C contains the lone skill of Awareness of cultural,

environmental and economic impacts of tourism and hospitality management. Tier D contains the

lone skill of Knowledge of the industry/sector within both local and international contexts.

It is noteworthy that the Tier A skills of Positive work attitudes and work ethic and Capacity for

cooperation and teamwork performance levels are rated most highly by employers as these skills were

also identified as being the most important to employers.

It is interesting to note that Knowledge of the industry/sector within both local and international

contexts is in the bottom tier of skills for both level of value by employers and level of performance

rating. This result raises interesting questions relating to curriculum content and what can be learnt

at university versus what is learnt ‘on the job’.


Table 3 Employer rating of actual student skill level, 2007, 2008 and 2009

Tier Order Skill level N Mean SD

A 1 Positive work attitude and work ethic 216 4.64 0.65

2 Punctuality and attendance 216 4.59 0.71

2 Capacity for cooperation and teamwork 216 4.59 0.70

B 4 Appropriate personal presentation and grooming 216 4.46 0.67

4 Capacity to learn new skills and procedures 216 4.46 0.68

6 Commitment to ethical standards and professionalism 216 4.39 0.76

7 Proactive, responsive and adaptable to change 216 4.31 0.81

8 Interpersonal communication skills 216 4.28 0.81

9 Computer skills 216 4.21 0.67

10 Written communication skills 216 4.19 0.77

11 Capacity to appreciate different cultural perspectives/ intercultural competence

216 4.18 0.80

12 Ability to manage large volumes of information from various sources (information literacy)

216 4.13 0.87

13 Have the analytical and problem solving skills needed to work effectively

216 4.09 0.83

C 14 Awareness of cultural, environmental and economic impacts of tourism and hospitality management

216 3.83 0.80

D 15 Knowledge of the industry/sector within both local and international contexts

216 3.71 0.83

The number of Unable to assess responses for all skills was analysed to identify skills with a higher than

5% response rate and five skills were identified. These were: Awareness of cultural, environmental and

economic impacts of tourism and hospitality management (14.80%, 49 cases); Computer skills (11.17%,

37 cases); Knowledge of the industry/sector within both local and international contexts (6.95%, 23

cases); and Written communication skills (6.34%, 21 cases); and Capacity to appreciate different

cultural perspectives/intercultural competence (5.76%, 19 cases). These relatively high response rates

highlight the importance of context for skill evaluation and that not all graduate attributes can and

will be assessed by all employers, which needs to be taken into account during degree-wide embedding

and assessment of graduate attributes and employability skills.

These results provide a better understanding of the priority skills of the School of Tourism and

Hospitality Management employers and can facilitate benchmarking comparisons with other tourism

and hospitality educators as well as with other industries nationally and internationally. The annual

monitoring of these skills allows identification of trends and maintains a feedback loop with industry,

the curriculum and students. Such information provides timely and relevant evidence on which

academics can base curriculum and assessment decisions and on which the ongoing School of Tourism

and Hospitality Management mapping and embedding of graduate attributes can be overseen.

Evaluating how employers rate the importance of each skill against the student skill levels

A paired samples t-test was conducted on results of the Supervisor Evaluations from 2007, 2008 and

2009 to compare employer ratings of the importance of each particular skill to the organisation with

the student’s actual skill level. By doing this, we can gauge whether or not there is a significant

difference between the types of skills that employers value and how well students are demonstrating

these skills. Results are shown in table 4, and are ordered by effect size and then t-value. Alpha was

set at 0.05, and assumptions of normality were met. There were no statistically significant differences

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between importance levels and skills for four of the 15 skills. This may indicate that employer needs

and the level of student skills in these areas are well matched.

For the remaining 11 skills, employers rated the importance of each skill to their organisation at a

statistically significant higher level than the rating of the student actual skill level. These skills are

shaded in table 4 and ordered from most significant difference to least.

Table 4 Comparison of employer nominated skill importance level with the actual rated level of student skill performance – overall 2007, 2008 and 2009

Skill importance

Skill level

Paired t-test

Effect size

N Mean SD Mean SD t value df p* r2 Interpersonal communication skills 328 4.68 0.56 4.24 0.80 10.55 327 <0.001 25%

Have the analytical and problem solving skills needed to work effectively

324 4.39 0.72 4.06 0.80 7.18 323 <0.001 14%

Capacity to learn new skills and procedures

328 4.67 0.54 4.40 0.67 6.78 327 <0.001 13%

Proactive, responsive and adaptable to change

329 4.60 0.60 4.27 0.84 6.77 328 <0.001 12%

Positive work attitude and work ethic 328 4.80 0.45 4.56 0.75 5.79 327 <0.001 9%

Capacity for cooperation and teamwork 327 4.77 0.53 4.54 0.75 5.61 326 <0.001 9%

Commitment to ethical standards and professionalism

328 4.59 0.62 4.34 0.80 5.61 327 <0.001 9%

Ability to manage large volumes of information from various sources (information literacy)

314 4.34 0.82 4.09 0.85 4.72 313 <0.001 7%

Knowledge of the industry/sector within both local and international contexts

304 3.89 0.90 3.67 0.84 4.36 303 <0.001 6%

Written communication skills 305 4.33 0.74 4.15 0.74 3.83 304 <0.001 5%

Punctuality and attendance 328 4.67 0.56 4.54 0.74 3.00 327 0.003 3%

Computer skills 287 4.13 0.87 4.18 0.67 0.87 286 0.383 NA

Capacity to appreciate different cultural perspectives/intercultural competence

299 4.18 0.88 4.14 0.79 0.75 298 0.454 NA

Appropriate personal presentation and grooming

329 4.41 0.74 4.43 0.67 0.47 328 0.640 NA

Awareness of cultural, environmental and economic impacts of tourism and hospitality management

271 3.81 0.96 3.82 0.80 0.11 270 0.910 NA

Note: *p<0.05 (two-tailed)

Using Cohen’s guidelines (1988, pp.82—3), the difference between the employer-nominated

importance of Interpersonal communication skills and the student actual skill level is considered large

(r2=25%). As there is a large difference between importance and skill level, this result highlights the

importance for educators to develop student interpersonal communication skills. This result can also

be used when teaching units leading up to the internship placement to highlight the workplace

relevance of assessments, activities and theories designed to enhance student skills in this area. From

a curriculum design perspective, identifying that there is a large difference between importance and

actual skill level justifies maintenance and possibly even an increase of activities and assessments

that foster interpersonal communication skills.

The next six skills have an effect size of greater than or equal to 9% but less than 25% and are thus

considered medium differences (Cohen 1988, pp.82—3). The remaining four skills that are less than 9%

have small differences, between the importance of the skill and the actual performance level. These

results also provide evidence to students and curriculum designers of the potential discrepancies


between skill importance and performance levels, as identified by employers, and can be used to

justify curriculum innovations targeted at developing priority skills.

Being able to monitor skills with a large, medium or small level of difference between their

importance to employers and the level of student performance may act as a barometer of how well

students are being prepared to perform such skills in the workplace. Being able to monitor the

differences between employer priorities and student performance levels across the years may also

help university teaching staff to better identify and address potential areas of weakness within

students and the curriculum.

Student overall work performance

During the years, 2007, 2008 and 2009, employers were asked to rate their student’s overall work

performance during the internship as if they were a regular staff member using a scale of 1 (Lowest

rating or extremely poor performance) to 10 (Highest rating or exceptional performance). Figure 2

outlines the percentage of employers rating students from 1—10, across 2007, 2008 and 2009. For the

three-year total, there were 329 valid responses and the mean rating was 8.33 (SD = 1.37). There

were four non-responses. The majority of employers rated student overall performance as 8 or above

(80%) and 91.9% of employers rated their intern’s performance as 7 or above. Approximately one in

five students was rated as a perfect 10 (19.5%). Across the three years, five (1.73%) poor student

performance evaluations (rated as less than 5) were received.

Figure 2 Rating of the student’s overall work performance

It is valuable for operational and marketing purposes to be able to monitor these trends across the

years. The ability to allocate a rank of poor student performance can also act as a ‘quick alert’ or red

flag, signifying potential problems between students and employers. Monitoring and clarification of

such issues helps to avoid similar problems in subsequent years.

0%

5%

10%

15%

20%

25%

30%

35%

2 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

No.

of e

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oyer

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ting

this

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Employer rating of student performance out of 10

NCVER 65

Overall employability

During 2007, 2008 and 2009, employers were asked to rate their overall willingness to employ their

internship student at the end of their placement if a position were available. It was clearly stated on

the Supervisor Evaluation form that this rating was not a binding commitment to employ the student.

Employers rated students on a scale of 1—10 with 1 being Definitely not — under any circumstances

and 10 being Emphatically yes. A scale of 1—10 was used here to facilitate comparisons with historical

data contained on the older versions of Supervisor Evaluation forms. Figure 3 outlines the percentage

of employers rating students from 1—10 across 2007, 2008 and 2009. There were 329 valid responses

and the mean rating was 8.76 (SD = 1.88). There were four non-responses. Over half of the employers

rated their willingness to employ their student as a perfect 10 (51.98%). The majority of employers

rated their student as 8 or above (82.68%) and 89.97% of employers rated their willingness to employ

their Intern as 7 or above. Across the three years, 16 Student Evaluations (4.86%) were rated as poor

(that is, less than 5) on this scale.

Figure 3 Employer’s willingness to employ the student

Poor ratings for this item are also treated as ‘red flags’, signalling possible problems with employers

or students that need to be addressed before new students can be placed with these employers again.

Each case is investigated by the internship unit assessor and similar issues to those raised under

Student overall work performance were identified. These ranged from unsuitable employers, to poor

fit with the organisation, through to underperforming students. These results also affirm the need for

additional assessment items and separate monitoring processes with the ability to check in with both

supervisors and students throughout their internship, which can in many instances circumvent issues

before they become serious problems.

The relationship between the number of hours worked and the employer’s willingness to employ was

investigated using Pearson product-moment correlation coefficient. Preliminary analyses were

0

10

20

30

40

50

60

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Perc

ent

Employer rating out of 10


performed to ensure no violation of the assumptions of normality, linearity and homoscedasticity.

There was a small positive correlation between the two variables, r=.18, n=310, p<.05 with higher

numbers of hours worked associated with a higher willingness to employ. This result lends support to

maintaining and supporting longer internship placements of 15—20 weeks rather than shorter five-

week placements.

Examining which skills might predict willingness to employ

A standard multiple linear regression was conducted to assess whether performance in any of the 15

designated skills might predict overall employability. A multiple regression was performed between

the employer’s willingness to employ the student as the dependent variable and performance ratings

for the 15 designated skills as independent variables.

Preliminary analyses were conducted to ensure no violation of the assumptions of normality,

multicollinearity and homoscedacity. Mahalonobis distance with p<0.001 was used to identify eight

cases, (2.4%) as multivariate outliers and following protocols from Tabachnick and Fidell (2007) and

Pallant (2007), these were deleted. The remaining sample size of N = 206 exceeds minimum

recommendations for reliability of N≥50+8m (where m = number of independent variables)

(Tabachnick & Fidell 2007, p.123). Assumptions of linearity are of concern, with a curvilinear

relationship between the dependent variable and the independent variables indicated. This does not

invalidate the results but may weaken them (Tabachnick & Fidell 2007), and thus caution is

recommended regarding wider generalisability of these results. Tolerance diagnostics were run and

the lowest tolerance was 0.37, which is within recommended bounds (Pallant 2007; Denis 2011).

Table 5 displays the unstandardised regression coefficients (B), the standardised regression

coefficients (β), and significance levels. The adjusted r2 value of 0.54 indicates that over half of the

variability in the decision to employ a student is explained by the model as a whole, F(15,191)=17.17,

p<.001. Five skills were identified as statistically significant: Capacity to learn new skills and

procedures; Ability to manage large volumes of information from various sources (information

literacy); Positive work attitude and work ethic; Knowledge of the industry/sector within both local

and international contexts; and Computer skills. These are shaded in table 5 and will now be

discussed in further detail.

The variable of Capacity to learn new skills and procedures makes the strongest, unique and

statistically significant contribution to explaining the model (β=.36) and uniquely explains 5.76% of

the variance in willingness to employ the student. Ability to manage large volumes of information

from various sources (information literacy) made the second strongest statistically significant

contribution (β=.22) and uniquely explains 1.76% of the variance in willingness to employ the student.

Positive work attitude and work ethic made the third strongest statistically significant contribution

(β=.17) and uniquely explains 1.25% of the variance in willingness to employ the student. Knowledge

of the industry/sector within both local and international contexts made the fourth strongest

statistically significant contribution (β=.14) and uniquely explains 1.14% of the variance in willingness

to employ the student.

Computer skills made the fifth strongest statistically significant contribution (β=-.13) and uniquely

explains 1.04% of the variance in willingness to employ the student. As there is a negative correlation

between Computer skills and Willingness to employ, these results imply that the poorer the student’s

computer skills, the more likely an employer is to employ the students. This unlikely result indicates a

potential problem with the model and so the Computer skills result should be treated with caution.

NCVER 67

Considering that Computer skills is also rated in the lowest tier of importance to employers, this

negative correlation warrants further investigation and analyses.

Table 5 Impact of intern skills on employer willingness to employ

Variable B S E B β Sig

Capacity to learn new skills and procedures 0.84 0.17 .36 <0.01

Ability to manage large volumes of information from various sources (information literacy)

0.39 0.14 .22 0.01

Positive work attitude and work ethic 0.41 0.17 .17 0.02

Knowledge of the industry/sector within both local and international contexts 0.24 0.11 .14 0.02

Computer skills -0.28 0.13 -.13 0.03

Capacity for cooperation and teamwork 0.26 0.17 .11 0.12

Appropriate personal presentation and grooming 0.18 0.13 .08 0.18

Proactive, responsive and adaptable to change 0.14 0.15 .08 0.33

Written communication skills 0.12 0.13 .07 0.34

Interpersonal communication skills -0.10 0.13 -.06 0.44

Punctuality and attendance -0.08 0.12 -.04 0.51

Capacity to appreciate different cultural perspectives/intercultural competence -0.07 0.12 -.04 0.56

Commitment to ethical standards and professionalism -0.06 0.15 -.03 0.68

Have the analytical and problem solving skills needed to work effectively -0.02 0.14 -.01 0.88

Awareness of cultural, environmental and economic impacts of tourism and hospitality management

0.00 0.13 .00 1.00

Note: r2= .57 Adjusted r2= .54 F(15,191) = 17.17 p<.001.

Overall, these results suggest that student performance in the first five skills may help predict the

employer’s willingness to retain or offer ongoing employment to the student if a position were

available; however, these results are to be treated with caution and flagged for future comparisons

and analysis.

Discussion

This paper provides an example of how work-integrated learning can be strategically used and placed

at the end of a degree to cost-effectively engage industry participants in evaluating student

performance of graduate attributes and employability skills. The School of Tourism and Hospitality

Management’s work-integrated learning program is intentionally located at the end of the degree as

four capstone units and thus is ideally positioned to generate feedback from employers on the actual

skills levels of students at the end of their undergraduate studies. As the Supervisor Evaluation is

returned at the end of students’ degrees it also acts as a measure of ‘brand new’, employer-assessed,

graduate skill levels. Being able to gain employer feedback at this stage of the student’s studies

provides valuable insight and judgment of students by a key stakeholder in the tertiary education

process — the employer. Gaining this feedback at the end of each study session provides an

immediacy that allows timely evaluation of curriculum innovations or deficits.

Moreover, this feedback is provided by supervisors who have worked with Southern Cross University

students for up to five months full-time and therefore can provide meaningful feedback on actual

student performance within the workplace context. The approach used by the School of Tourism and

Hospitality Management could readily be adapted by other education providers or faculties to


strategically gather evidence on the graduate attributes and skills valued by employers; identify any

shortfalls in the performance levels of these skills and attributes; and continuously improve

curriculum to ensure development of skills that are important to industry. The results of this project

have implications for students, employers and the university, and there are a number of

considerations raised that may benefit other learning institutes seeking to strengthen their industry

partnerships. For programs that prioritise industry relevance and industry partnerships, this project

demonstrates how it is possible to embed an effective means of maintaining strong industry

partnerships and evidence-based curriculum improvement and quality assurance.

Implications for students

The results of this study have a number of implications when preparing students to undertake their

work-integrated learning placement. The Supervisor Evaluation helps to create a tangible measure

linking university and School of Tourism and Hospitality Management graduate attributes with industry

and workplace performance. It does this by clearly outlining assessable skills and setting clear

expectations of the types of capabilities expected to be displayed and evaluated during work-

integrated learning placements. Six-monthly updated ratings of skill importance by employers, fed

back into the School systematically, lend credence to their relevance and demonstrate to students

how graduate attributes can be more than an academic abstraction and have value to long-term

career success and citizenship. For instance, when preparing students for internship placement, being

able to show the significant gaps between the employer ratings of skill importance and student skill

levels for 11 of the 15 skills can help to focus students on potential areas for increased attention

during their on campus studies and their work-integrated learning placement. As part of this project,

it was identified that modifications should be made to the Supervisor Evaluation form to include an

industry identifier. In future, this will facilitate easier analysis of the results by industry segment to

see what trends emerge and may improve the utility of this information for students seeking

employment in specific sectors.

Ratings of skill importance can also be benchmarked to broader statistics representing employers’

views such as the Graduate Outlook Survey released annually by Graduate Careers Australia (GCA). It

asks employers to rank the key selection criteria used for graduate recruitment purposes. It is

interesting to note that from 2008 to 2012, the top three skills have remained constant: Interpersonal

and communication skills (written and oral); Passion/Knowledge of industry/

Drive/Commitment/Attitude; and Critical reasoning and analytical skills/Problem solving/Lateral

thinking/Technical skills (Graduate Careers Australia 2009, 2012).

From 2009, employers were asked to rate their satisfaction with graduates on the employability skills

of technology; learning; teamwork; communication; problem-solving; initiative and enterprise;

technical skills from their course; planning and organising; and self-management (Graduate Careers

Australia 2012). Over the four years, employers consistently reported that graduates met or exceeded

their expectations on skill levels (ranging from 92—98.7%).

This benchmarking provides students with valuable comparisons and commonalities, but also draws

attention to the fact that such skills lists are variable and contextual. Communicating these results to

students as part of preparation for work-integrated learning placements also opens the doors to their

informed engagement in critiquing employability skills and graduate attributes (ideally through work-

integrated learning assessments), especially as such engagement is a vital requirement often lacking

in many universities (Jackson 2009).

NCVER 69

Some graduate attributes relating to employability skills are most effectively developed and assessed

in the workplace (Cranmer 2006; Mason et al. 2009). This study demonstrates that it is possible to

engage employers in providing effective and meaningful feedback to students and university staff

about how students demonstrate and perform such skills in the workplace. Giving students

responsibility for setting appointments with supervisors to gain written feedback on the final

Supervisor Evaluation form is also good practice for the formalised performance review systems that

graduates are likely to experience during their working lives. This part of the process has also been

key in reducing administrative follow-up by university staff, freeing up additional time for student

troubleshooting and consultations. Employers are often so enthusiastic about their role in educating

students on work-integrated learning that they take on a mentoring role. Such employer engagement

facilitates a stronger three-way learning partnership, which students regularly rate in course

evaluations such as the Australian Graduate Survey as the highlight of their three-year degree.

Implications for employers

When considering the implications of this project for employers, it is important to remember that it is

one part of a larger industry engagement strategy by the School of Tourism and Hospitality

Management. As part of this strategy, this project is important in providing a clear voice and

opportunity for formalised, systematic input by industry into the School of Tourism and Hospitality

Management’s university curriculum. Research supports such involvement by industry (Cranmer 2006)

and addresses industry complaints about the ineffective nexus between academia and industry and

the subsequent criticisms that university students are underprepared for the workplace (Australian

Industry Group & Deloitte 2009; Precision Consultancy 2007). The fact that in most cases the School of

Tourism and Hospitality Management internship supervisors oversee students for five months creates a

sense of ownership and pride in student achievement, as evidenced by the mentoring roles that many

employers take on. Given that 33% of 2007 employers had previously participated in the program,

with this figure rising to 50% in 2009, such repeat involvement helps to deepen the partnership

between industry and tertiary education. This increased familiarity helps to establish realistic

expectations of student and new graduate ability and performance levels by industry employers and

helps to shape industry confidence in the program as advocated by Cai (2013).

Typically, employers comment on the benefits of being involved in work-integrated learning as having

the opportunity to engage with ‘genuinely interested and enthusiastic’ students who ‘provide the

company with fresh and new ideas which are learnt during their studies’ (Supervisor Evaluation, 2009).

They also see the benefits of taking an active role in training students at the end stages of their degree

as a means of identifying the best and brightest of graduates before they have actually graduated. As

a work-integrated learning employer, organisations can potentially gain a five-month head start in the

graduate recruitment process. This is corroborated by the School of Tourism and Hospitality

Management in-house records, which indicate that approximately 60—75% of students stay on with their

internship employers. Through the systematic analysis of supervisor feedback, this project elevates the

role and contribution of employers to a more formal status, a fact that can be used advantageously in

marketing strategies by employers and the School of Tourism and Hospitality Management.

This paper provides an example of the type of employability and graduate attribute skills profiles that

can be developed for a group of industry employers by strategically identifying and collating their

feedback on student performance in the workplace. The ranking and rating of skills that are important

to this group of tourism and hospitality employers may prove to be a useful resource for industry

because it provides an evidence base of professional skills, tailored to their industry, which can

contribute to building a stronger industry profile and encourage wider debate and consideration of the


skills that are most important to succeeding within these industries. An improved profile may be

beneficial in attracting and retaining high-quality recruits to industry (Wang, Ayres & Huyton 2009).

An improved industry dissemination strategy of these results by the School of Tourism and Hospitality

Management will assist this process and it is recommended that a promotional flyer similar to the

Careers Australia, Graduate Outlook publication is developed for School of Tourism and Hospitality

Management employers.

Implications for the School of Tourism and Hospitality Management and Southern Cross University

This project is an example of a pragmatic approach to engaging employers as strategic partners and

external assessors. This strategic partnership enhances the development of graduate attributes and

employability skills by engaging employers to provide evidence of satisfactory attainment and

performance of identified graduate attributes and employability skills by students and new graduates.

This project shows it is possible to gain a 100% response rate by employers for a questionnaire on

student attainment of graduate attributes in the format of the Supervisor Evaluation form. Logistical

factors such as deadlines for the completion and design of the form have been carefully implemented

to ensure maximum benefit and relevance of feedback to the university and students without unduly

taxing employer resources. Data collection was incorporated into an existing 60% work-integrated

learning administration role and seems more efficient than the periodic approaches of Monash

University’s system of employer feedback on graduate attributes (Nair & Mertova 2009). The

continuous nature of Southern Cross University’s feedback encourages timely incorporation into the

curriculum and using the capstone work-integrated learning units satisfies the identified need for task

authenticity (Cooper et al. 2010; Patrick et al. 2008). Linking this feedback to the assessment of key

graduate attributes is also important, given the strong quality assurance imperatives within the

tertiary education sector and the identified difficulties in trying to assess graduate attributes and

employability skills.

An example of curriculum development arising from this project occurred when formal and informal

feedback from some employers indicated a lack of Excel skills was problematic for students. Once

recognised as an issue, it was possible to feed this information into the regular course reviews, which

found that changes to assessments in two units had created this situation. Consideration was thus

given to re-introducing assessment items designed to develop these skills. In the short-term it was

also possible to convey this information directly to potentially affected students preparing to go on

work-integrated learning placements and advise them that they may need to ensure their Excel skills

would meet industry expectations (for example, with online tutorials provided by the university). This

example raises an important question about whether formal Supervisor Evaluation feedback may make

it easier for employers to feel comfortable in providing more frequent informal feedback and warrants

further monitoring.

This project has also highlighted a number of results with marketing value to the School of Tourism

and Hospitality Management. For instance, when considering the students’ overall work performance

and employability ratings, this study demonstrates that the vast majority of the School’s students are

meeting industry expectations as eminently employable. When students/new graduates are rated on

the same performance criteria as experienced employees, more than 90% of employers rate their

students as 7 or higher on a 10-point scale, with approximately one in five being rated as a perfect

10. This compares favourably with the results of the overall employability of students, with over half

of the employers rating their students as a perfect 10 for their organisation, and approximately 90% of

employers rating their willingness to employ their student, if a position existed, as 7 or higher on the

NCVER 71

10 point scale. This may also highlight that, while skills and those linked to designated graduate

attributes may be important, ultimately it is the combined overall effect of these attributes and more

that are perhaps just as important if not more so than the individual parts. It is important from a

university policy and academic perspective that we do not lose sight of this.

Engaging employers to provide formal feedback on those skills that are of most importance to them

keeps the School of Tourism and Hospitality Management closely linked to industry trends and

expectations, an issue that is central to the School’s mission, ethos, operational and marketing

strategies. Since embarking on this project a number of industry-based graduate attribute and work

readiness studies have emerged (Caballero & Walker, 2010; Caballero, Walker & Fuller-Tyszkiewicz

2011; Dredge et al. 2012; Harvey & Shahjahan 2013; Oliver et al. 2011), so it would be useful for the

School of Tourism and Hospitality Management to review the skills and attributes being assessed by

these projects and consider the merits of revising current Supervisor Evaluation items to facilitate

wider benchmarking and quality assurance practices.

The TEQSA quality assurance requirements are also becoming better understood, so monitoring the

Supervisor Evaluation data to ensure that the relevant skills are being assessed and that an

appropriate evidence base is being established is well under way. Additionally, relevant industry

accreditation schemes should also be monitored to assess whether additional skills need to be added

to the Supervisor Evaluation form. The results of this project ensure that the School of Tourism and

Hospitality Management is well placed to provide adequate evidence to meet these quality assurance

and benchmarking demands.

Other considerations

Knowing which skills employers deem most important can also assist in making more informed

curriculum and assessment choices and which take the viewpoints of employers, academics and

students into account. As these skills and their ratings are integrally linked to graduate attributes,

it emphasises the importance of agreeing upon, establishing and then monitoring the relevance of

those graduate attributes, not only on an operational level but also at the policy, industry and

academic levels.

The preliminary findings of this paper, suggesting that abilities in certain skills such as Capacity to

learn new skills and procedures; Ability to manage large volumes of information from various sources

(information literacy); Positive work attitude and work ethic; Knowledge of the industry/sector

within both local and international contexts; and Computer skills may be predictors of employers’

willingness to employ, lend further support to ‘employability’ as a complex and multifaceted

construct. The fact that less than 11% of Willingness to employ is explained by these five attributes

reminds us that there are many more factors that go into the decision to employ than just the 15 skills

nominated by the School of Tourism and Hospitality Management. Remembering this can help to keep

the graduate attribute/employability skills debate in perspective and raises interesting research

opportunities — the identification of the definitive skills that are predictors of Willingness to employ.

Further investigation will be useful when making curriculum design and assessment decisions.

The observation of students and employers by work-integrated learning academic and administrative

staff during this project raised additional research questions. One example is that Written

communication skills, which was rated in the third tier of importance to employers, was identified as

a potential ‘dissatisfier’ to events sector employers. Shortfalls in this skill had employers rapidly

contacting university staff to complain. These observations were reported by work-integrated learning

staff and, although anecdotal, warrant further monitoring and investigation. Adding in an industry


identifier to the Supervisor Evaluation form will facilitate further exploration of the concept of

potential industry satisfiers and dissatisfiers.

Considering that, when employers were asked to rate student skill levels, there were more than 5%

Unable to assess responses for five of the 15 designated skills, it is important to identify those skills

that present evaluation difficulties to employers and therefore monitoring issues. Alternative methods

for assessment of these skills consequently need to be incorporated within the relevant units across

the curriculum. When relying on work-integrated learning units to assess graduate attributes, it is

important to be aware that not all roles will require the application and demonstration of all skills, so

work-integrated learning should not be seen as the catch-all solution, but rather, one of a number of

possible integrated assessment methods. This emphasises the importance of monitoring and mapping

graduate attributes across the whole curriculum and being aware of the types of skills and graduate

attributes with a higher likelihood of not being comprehensively assessed by industry.

Conclusions

This study provides three years of evidence by which to evaluate the School of Tourism and

Hospitality Management’s graduate attributes in the context of the university-wide graduate

attributes as well as broader national trends regarding graduate attributes. The results of this project

support consideration of employability and graduate attributes as an integrated package of skills and

attributes. While it is possible to gain feedback on specific skills and to monitor the rank order of such

skills, there are limitations to this process because the overall work quality of students and graduates

and the willingness of supervisors to employ students is much more than just the sum of a skills list.

However, if these limitations are taken into account, this information is useful and has considerable

benefits for students, employers and universities.

Benefits to students included:

being able to access an evidence-based industry view on the importance or otherwise of graduate

attributes and employability skills to better prepare for work placements

gaining a better understanding of potential skill gaps to assist in better preparing for work

placements

being able to benchmark skills that are important to School of Tourism and Hospitality

Management employers against broader graduate skill surveys

gaining meaningful feedback on their skill levels in the workplace as assessed by employers.

Benefits to employers included:

being given a more formalised role in educating current and future industry employees

contributing to raising industry profiles and helping to attract high-quality staff.

Benefits to the School of Tourism and Hospitality Management:

establishing an effective evidence-based quality assurance process that can be integrated into

existing work-integrated learning staffing roles and processes

developing an evidence base to assist in better preparing students for work placement and

graduate-recruitment processes

NCVER 73

having useful data for benchmarking, curriculum development and monitoring of industry needs

and trends

recognising the potential marketing value of results for course promotion.

By identifying the skills and attributes that can be assessed by industry partners, Southern Cross

University takes a strategic approach to engaging industry in developing students’ employability and

graduate attributes and contributes to a broader evidence base by which to make important future

curriculum decisions. This information can be used to improve relationships between industry and

academia and improve curriculum, overall graduate learning outcomes and quality assurance processes

and provide a better match between labour market requirements and educational programs.

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Refugee immigrants: addressing social exclusion by promoting agency in the Australian VET sector Gerald Onsando Griffith University

Abstract

Refugee immigrants’ past traumatic personal histories as well as their present social exclusion

experiences are likely to adversely affect their exercise of personal agency and resettlement in

Australia. Efforts to improve their capability to exercise agency and resettlement should be premised

on social structural affordances and environments that support their participation and contribution to

Australian society. One way that these supportive affordances could be created is through refugee

immigrants’ improved access to and meaningful engagement with the Australian vocational education

and training (VET) sector and its technical and further education (TAFE) institutes. This paper

identifies significant agentic factors associated with refugee immigrants’ past personal histories as

well as social exclusion experiences linked to their present resettlement, and explores ways that the

VET sector and publicly funded TAFE institutes could address these issues. In conclusion, a set of

recommendations are provided as guidelines on how the VET sector and TAFE institutes could address

personal agency and social exclusion challenges for refugee immigrants in Australia.

Refugees, resettlement and VET

Refugees are victims of war and violence who flee their home countries in search of peace and safety.

After surviving war and violence, a few refugees get the rare opportunity to be resettled in a third

country, where they are provided with permanent protection as well as offered opportunities to be

nationals of that country. In Australia adult refugee immigrants, like any other Australian, have

opportunities for education and training through the higher education and VET sectors.

Refugees

Refugees are individuals who have fled their home countries, escaping war, violence, persecution, or

torture. The 1951 United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) Refugee Convention

defined a refugee as a person who, ‘owing to a well-founded fear of being persecuted for reasons of

race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group, or political opinion’ (United

Nations High Commissioner for Refugees 2007, p.16), has fled from their country of origin.

Furthermore, focusing more on the local situations confronting refugees, the Organisation of African

Unity (OAU) — now the African Union (AU) — described refugees as individuals whose public order has

been seriously disrupted due to war and violence and who are forced to leave their place of habitual

residence ‘in order to seek refuge in another place’ (Organisation of African Unity 1969, p.2) outside

their countries of origin or nationality. During such wars and violence, victims often flee from their

home countries as a matter of urgency, marking the beginning of their transition to being refugees in

search of peace and safety in other countries.

NCVER 77

A common characteristic for many refugees is that their personal histories are likely to be laden with

traumatic and distressful life experiences that other people may not have experienced. Refugee life

experiences have been characterised as having the following typical series of events:

exposure to political, religious or intercultural violence, persecution or oppression, armed conflict

or civil discord which incorporates the following basic elements: a state of fearfulness for self and

family members; leaving the country of origin at short notice; inability to return to the country of

origin; and uncertainty about the possibility of maintaining links with family and home.

(Coventry et al. 2002, pp.14—15)

These typical refugee life experiences, or ‘the stages of refugeesim’ (Keller 1975), have been

acknowledged by authorities tasked with assessing, granting protection, and offering resettlement

opportunities to refugees. Furthermore, refugee life experiences may also mean that refugees can

become trapped in the protracted encampments of living in unsafe and sub-human conditions in

refugee camps (Zeus 2011). Typically, before being trapped in these protracted encampments, many

refugees could already have been ‘subjected to rape and torture, witnessed friends being murdered

or been separated from their families when fleeing their homes’ (Department of Immigration and

Citizenship 2009, p.7). These traumatic personal histories encountered by many refugees characterise

some of the typical refugee life experiences.

The process of becoming a refugee could also be seen through the concept of a triple trauma

paradigm (Center for Victims of Torture 2005), which advances that refugees often encounter three

traumatic phases of pre-flight, flight, and post-flight experiences. This means that, during the ‘pre-

flight’ phase, refugee victims continued to perceive threats after surviving war and violence; during

the ‘flight’ phase, they decided to flee to safety often to a neighbouring country under extremely

dangerous and volatile environments; and during the ‘post-flight’ phase, they reached relative safety

and started living as refugees often in challenging sub-human living conditions in refugee camps

(Center for Victims of Torture 2005; Keller 1975; Stein 1981). As discussed in the next section, after

experiencing such traumatic refugee life events for a number of years, a few refugees get the rare

opportunity of permanent protection and resettlement in a third country like Australia.

Provisions for resettlement

Resettlement for refugees provides permanent protection to victims of war and violence through an

immigration process that gives them opportunities for living and being nationals of other countries

(Department of Immigration and Citizenship 2011; United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees

2011). The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees coordinates with governments around the

world in an attempt to provide refugees with long-term protection and safe living environments

through promotion of a three-option solution of: voluntary repatriation to their home countries when

deemed safe; local integration in the country of first asylum, usually countries within the same

region; and resettlement in a third often Western country (Department of Immigration and Citizenship

2009; United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees 2010). The third option, that is, permanent

resettlement in a third country, is both an international responsibility as well as a national objective

of that country to offer sanctuary to refugees. Most refugee immigrants in Australia are classified

under this third option of providing permanent protection and resettlement.

Despite these provisions, the resettlement of refugee immigrants in third countries has been

described as a ‘complex and gradual process, comprising distinct but inter-related legal, economic

and socio-cultural dimensions’ (United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees 2010, p.10). Moreover,


basic resettlement of refugees in a third country involves providing them with the protection and

rights enjoyed by nationals of that country:

Resettlement involves the selection and transfer of refugees from a State in which they have

sought protection to a third State which has agreed to admit them — as refugees — with

permanent residence status. The status provided ensures protection against refoulement and

provides a resettled refugee and his/her family or dependants with access to rights similar to

those enjoyed by nationals. Resettlement also carries with it the opportunity to eventually

become a naturalized citizen of the resettlement country.

(United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees 2011, p.3)

This process of resettlement can be challenging to both refugee immigrants and the protecting third

countries due to factors like the politics of the host country, traditional and sociocultural dissonances

between immigrating refugees and the host population, and the social exclusion1 experiences that the

new immigrants encounter (United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees 2010). These challenging

resettlement issues can be redressed to attain a changed and more meaningful resettlement for

refugee immigrants. In Australia, meaningful resettlement or good settlement (Centre for

Multicultural Youth Issues 2006) for refugee immigrants can be described in terms of settling well,

that is, ‘living comfortably’ (Department of Immigration and Citizenship 2011, p.1), and can be

measured against a set of indicators of integration (Ager & Strang 2008), including their opportunities

to access education and training. This means that one of the key indicators of successful resettlement

for refugee immigrants is the levels of access to and participation in education and training in their

new countries. The next section therefore is a discussion of refugee immigrants’ experiences and

outcomes of their engagement with the higher education and VET sector in Australia.

Australian higher education and VET

Higher education in Australia is mainly offered at universities, where students study towards an

associate degree and above, or diploma, or an advanced diploma qualification, while the VET sector is

designed to provide students with the skills, knowledge, and attitudes for work mainly through a

system of TAFE institutes (Bradley 2008). Importantly, for many refugee immigrants, engaging in

education and training offers opportunities for them to learn and advance their skills, as well as

providing an imperative resettlement basis for socialising with the wider Australian society. However,

it is well documented that refugee immigrants attending higher education and VET institutes face a

host of challenges, for example, sociocultural dissonances, distress due to personal histories,

academic and financial challenges and experiences of social exclusion (Joyce et al. 2010). Refugee

immigrants also engage in unfamiliar pedagogical practices that ignore their personal histories and

sociocultural backgrounds, as well as experience racial discrimination at TAFE institutes (Correa-Velez

& Onsando 2009; Onsando & Billett 2009). Such challenges in higher education and in VET institutes

are often specific to refugee immigrant learners; hence, the provision of supportive learning

environments that address these challenges would significantly contribute to their successful

resettlement in Australia.

Many refugee immigrants interact with the Australian VET sector through enrolment at TAFE institutes

(see for example, NSW Department of Education and Communities 2011) as well as by participating in

Adult Migrant English Program (AMEP) courses, which are mainly offered at TAFE institutes (TAFE

1 The term ‘social exclusion’ in this paper refers to experiences of individuals who would like to participate and

contribute in key activities of their societies, but for reasons beyond their control, they cannot participate in such activities (Burchardt, Le Grand & Piachaud 1999, 2002).

NCVER 79

Queensland 2013a). It is therefore important to focus on how the VET sector caters for refugee

immigrants’ unique and challenging education and training needs. It is also worthwhile to understand

how these challenging educational and training experiences for refugee immigrants could be

transformed into opportunities for the VET sector and TAFE institutes to offer appropriate support to

these students. Furthermore, understanding refugee immigrants’ past and present life experiences

could be a basis for improving their education and training outcomes as they resettle in Australia. This

understanding of life experiences is important because particular life experiences foster significant

changes in individual’s lives (Habermas 1978; Mezirow 1991). For these reasons, refugee immigrants’

resettlement should seek to redress the issues arising both from the personal histories of their past

refugee life experiences and the present societal challenges they encounter. Their participation in

and contributions to society should be enacted in a safe and productive environment premised on

their developing capacities that encourage them to engage in productive lives in Australia.

This paper argues that the VET sector, through its TAFE institutes, could create supportive and

empowering environments for refugee immigrants as they resettle in Australia. The paper explores

personal agency2 and empowerment issues as well as the discrimination experiences confronting

refugee immigrants, with the objective of identifying ways by which the Australian VET sector and

TAFE institutes could provide meaningful support. The paper also offers innovative contributions to

knowledge by providing empirical propositions and recommendations that advocate for refugee

immigrants’ access to and engagement with the VET sector and TAFE institutes. Furthermore, the

paper also contributes to one of Australia’s national research priorities for tertiary education and

training, that is, The contribution of education and training to social inclusion: To explore the

reduction of disadvantage through education and training (NCVER 2010, p.13). The next section is a

discussion of the methodology used in the study’s philosophical approach and how data were collected

and analysed.

Methodology

This study adopted transformative philosophical assumptions (Mertens 2009) and participants were

recruited and selected through careful purposive sampling procedures (Schutt 2006), which identified

them as refugee immigrants resettling in Australia. The data were collected from participants by

conducting two distinct personal interview sessions, and then analysed using grounded theory methods

(Charmaz 2006; Corbin & Strauss 2008), which explored their experiences as well as their capacity to

exercise personal agency.

Philosophical approach

The transformative philosophical assumptions (Mertens 2009) that formed the basis of this study

recognised participants’ personal refugee histories as well as their experiences of social exclusion in

Australia. The recruitment of participants was aimed at understanding how their past refugee

experiences as well as their present resettlement experiences could possibly affect their access to

and participation in the Australian VET sector. For these reasons, the concepts of beneficence, social

justice, respect, and cultural sensitivity were enacted when approaching and engaging with

participants. This approach was based on assumptions that individuals construct specific perspectives

as a consequence of their experiences (Aerts et al. 2007; Billett 2009; Koltko-Rivera 2004; Mezirow

1997). Potential participants were approached via the already established networks with local refugee

2 The term personal agency or agency in this paper refers to the capacity and ability of individuals to intentionally

influence their life circumstances and exercise control over their actions (Bandura 1986, 2006).


immigrant communities and augmented with the support of local refugee immigrant community

leaders as well as the non-governmental community-based services that support refugee resettlement

in Australia.

Data collection

As foreshadowed, data collection in this study was achieved by conducting face-to-face interviews

with individual participants. Interviews in research provide a listening environment whereby

knowledge is constructed through an exchange of verbal viewpoints between the researcher and

participants (Schutt 2006). The eight selected participants — five males and three females — were

originally from the Middle East, Africa, and South East Asia, where they lived as refugees for an

average of 14 years and had resettled in Australia for an average of seven years. The interviews

comprised two separate sessions conducted with each of the eight participants. The first interview

session focused on participants’ past refugee life experiences, while the second session concentrated

on their present resettlement experiences in Australia. Additionally, in line with the study’s

transformative assumptions (Mertens 2009), the participants were given an opportunity to choose a

preferred interview site to ensure that the conversations were held in comfortable environments. All

interview sessions were electronically audio-recorded and verbatim transcriptions produced for the

purpose of data analysis.

Data analysis

Data collected during the interview sessions were analysed using grounded theory methods (Charmaz

2006; Corbin & Strauss 2008), with the objective of understanding the factors that had contributed to

participants’ becoming and living as refugees and thereafter refugee immigrants, as well as their

capacity to exercise personal agency in these environments. It was worth exploring, in some general

sense, their access to and engagement with VET institutes in Australia. In the next section, findings

from this group of refugee immigrants are presented and discussed in terms of their (a) past refugee

life experiences and the effects these experiences had on their capacity to exercise personal agency,

and (b) their current resettlement and VET experiences in Australia.

Past refugee life experiences

It is important to understand the extent to which past refugee life experiences affected refugee

immigrants’ present resettlement experiences, specifically their access to and engagement with the

VET sector in Australia. This knowledge would assist the VET sector to provide meaningful support to

refugee immigrants attending TAFE institutes and other registered training organisations (RTOs).

Refugee life experiences were often characterised by a perception of a threat due to experiencing

war and violence, a decision to flee to safety in extremely dangerous environments, and living in

relative safe refugee camps (Keller 1975; Stein 1981). For participants of this study, such refugee life

experiences created social structural affordances3 that affected their capability to exercise personal

agency of improving their wellbeing. In this study, participants described their past refugee life

experiences, which included (a) experiencing war and violence, (b) fleeing to safety often to a

neighbouring country, (c) living as a refugee in challenging conditions, and (d) the occupational

opportunities they had as refugees. In the next sections, these factors are explored by focusing on

3 The term social structural affordances or affordances in this paper refers to the provisions of social and physical

contexts or environments that allow or invite intended actions to happen (Billett 2009).

NCVER 81

how each may affect participants’ capability to exercise personal agency, including their subsequent

engagement with the VET sector in Australia.

Experiencing war and violence

A number of participants witnessed or experienced torture and killings of family members, friends, or

fellow residents. For example, Naing Thein said that the killing of his close relative was the main

trigger that forced his family to flee Burma into a refugee camp in neighbouring Thailand.

So later, I found out that actually my mum’s younger sister was shot dead; she was pregnant

about eight and a half months [participant pauses] just about to give birth, and was shot dead.

From then I don’t think my parents [participant pauses] didn’t think it is safe anymore, so we

decided to make a way to refugee camp, at the time I think I was about six years old; so we made

our journey to the camp. (Naing Thein, Southeast Asia)

Naing Thein was only a child when his pregnant aunt was shot dead by armed military perpetrators.

Not surprisingly, experiencing this tragedy was one of the main reasons that made Naing Thein’s

family flee from the volatility and insecurity in their village and home country. Similarly another

participant, Angua from Sudan, narrated how she witnessed the torture of some of her acquaintances

and fellow villagers.

And there is a shopkeeper who is a disabled man, one of his limbs was cut off. And the son, the

head of the son was beaten, it was beaten almost to death, and the eyes turn red just like blood

[participant sounds emotional] they were not killed, but they were really tortured, yes, not even

good to look at them. (Angua, Africa)

After witnessing such traumatic torture and killings, Naing Thein, Angua and their immediate families

were terrified and feared for their safety and had to flee and live in refugee camps in neighbouring

countries. Their experiences of war and violence indicated the lack of normalcy in their home

countries, the presence of indiscriminate threats, and victims being powerless to prevent vicious

attacks.

Such intense levels of war, violence, and torture were confronting experiences that rendered

participants powerless to defend themselves and were likely to affect their subsequent resettlement,

and engagement with the VET sector in Australia. Victims of war and violence often confronted years

of societal chaos and escalation of traumatic events (Center for Victims of Torture 2005) because

perpetrators frequently used torture to disempower and deny victims ‘all powers of agency’ (Vetlesen

2005, p.214). War and violence also rendered many refugees to be ‘powerless objects rather than

active agents’ (Frost & Hoggett 2008, p.449); that is, being unable to exercise personal agency of

peaceful living. War and violence in many refugees’ home countries could not provide them with safe

and peaceful living environments. However, while refugees were without agency and powerless to

defend themselves from armed perpetrators, their survival was paradoxically dependent of their first-

order agentic ability (Frost & Hoggett 2008) of fleeing to safety. The presence of war and violence

was also an indication that refugees faced potent societal constraints and boundaries that severely

limited their personal agency to act in any other way than to flee to find peace and normalcy.

In all, for many refugees, experiencing war and violence resulted in the loss of personal agency and

the ability to exercise peaceful living in their home countries. This means that such intense levels of

war, violence, and torture could render refugees susceptible to long-term distress that may affect

their consequent resettlement outcomes, including engagement with the VET sector in Australia. As


discussed in the next section, refugees’ fled from war and violence hoping to find peace in

neighbouring countries.

Fleeing to safety

During war and violence, refugees were forced to flee from their home countries and find peace and

safety elsewhere. The fleeing to safety was often characterised by challenging and dangerous

journeys towards neighbouring countries. For example, after Abdul-Jabbar’s home was ambushed by

Iraqi government agents, who forcibly took away his two brothers, he embarked on a one-month

‘terrible journey’ walking towards the Iranian border in biting winter conditions.

And then, after one or two weeks I was through that time I was looking for a way to go out. With

the help of some friends I got away from the North side of Iraq, the Kurdish people paid some

money actually a lot of money to get the way to the border between Iraq and Iran. And then I

walked for one month on foot in the winter time and all the mountain about 1 metre ice, it is a

terrible journey, it is a terrible journey. I never believed that I will be safe at the end, but thank

God it is done now. (Abdul-Jabbar, Middle East)

Abdul-Jabbar’s ‘terrible journey’ as he escaped from war and violence in an attempt to reach a safe

place was similar to those of many other refugees. For example Naing Thein, his parents, and siblings

fled from Burma and travelled for a fortnight through dangerous terrain to seek safety in a refugee

camp in neighbouring Thailand.

I had to travel for two weeks all the way to the Thailand refugee camp. My dad has to carry my

sister, my mum had to carry my brother; and I was six, we had to travel for two weeks; all

through walking, nothing more. And at some stage I just collapsed, like I can’t walk anymore, and

then I really wanted to cry; they say ‘don’t cry’, as a kid you feel you don’t even have the

freedom to cry. As a kid I didn’t know anything, and later I found out that because you can’t cry

the place where we were at that moment is very close to the Burmese military base. And if the

kids cry, then there is no way out; if they caught it then we are all got in trouble. (Naing Thein)

The extremely dangerous situations and environments surrounding Abdul-Jabbar, Naing Thein and

their families forced them to flee and seek safety; otherwise, they were likely to be tortured or killed

by the perpetrators of war and violence in their respective home countries. For them, fleeing from

their homelands was the only way of saving their lives.

It is worth noting that the experiences of fleeing to safety could affect refugees’ subsequent

resettlement and their engagement with TAFE institutes because the traumatic distress they suffered

at this stage was in addition to what they had experienced during the war and violence. Fleeing to

safety was a necessary survival exercise that restored refugees’ personal agency (Keller 1975), which

was severely diminished during the war and violence. The action of fleeing to safety could last for a

number of years and was usually characterised by profound uncertainty, whereby victims were

constantly in hiding for the fear of being attacked again (Center for Victims of Torture 2005;

Richmond 1993). Moreover, notwithstanding the many challenges arising from being in a war

environment, refugees’ ability to escape from their hostile home countries could be described from a

personal agency perspective:

Despite the horrors undergone, there were beneficial aspects to being in a flight as compared to

waiting at home for the axe to fall. Once more one became an actor, in many cases he regained

the status of subject rather than object and was able to respond effectively to the dangers around

him. (Keller 1975, p.55)

NCVER 83

Fleeing to safety was an exercise of personal agency dependent on the safety situations surrounding

refugees at that time. Furthermore, individuals in imminent danger exercised personal agency to

ensure that their exigent fleeing to safety was successful (Bandura 2006), depending on the

availability of supportive environments, as exemplified by the refugee participants. For many

refugees and their families, the flight to safety from their home countries was a first-order agentic

exercise (Frost & Hoggett 2008), which marked the beginning of their lives as refugees in neighbouring

countries. The action of fleeing to safety involved the ability of refugees, often with the help of

others, to successfully execute their plans for escaping the war and violence from their home country.

In all, fleeing to safety was a rare instance where participants exercised personal agency as they

sought to find environments of relative peace to live as refugees. However, as discussed in the next

section, the living experiences of many refugees were often challenging and distressing.

Experiencing refugee life

Victims’ experiences of war and violence, and their escape from their home countries, often led them

to living in neighbouring countries as refugees. For participants, the experiences of living as refugees

were characterised by environments that were overcrowded, unwelcoming, and insecure. For

example, Angua described the overcrowded, hostile, and desolate conditions in the camp where

people used dirty water for consumption, with therefore many dying of water-borne diseases.

Water was also a problem at the beginning, we were taking dirty waters and it was too much

crowded and so many lives were lost at that very moment. Some people died from diarrhoea, I

think some from malaria, or what I don’t know, it was really sad to look at every time carrying

bodies for burial and what, for some period of time and then it started getting better. (Angua)

As indicated by Angua, refugee camps were overcrowded with very limited resources and facilities

available for refugee populations, with regular outbreaks of fatal infectious diseases. Also, according

to Naing Thein, who lived in a refugee camp in Thailand, refugees were always treated like unworthy

human beings.

Life inside the refugee camp, there were a lot of restrictions and limitation in the camp. Because

if I have to tell you everything, like in the camp, there is a group of people in the Thai village or

Thai authorities; they cannot treat you as their level, to their level. And we had a lot of

discrimination as well and we were treated very unfair, very disgraceful as some second status.

(Naing Thein)

Naing Thein found it challenging living as a refugee because of such incidents of restriction and

discrimination. For Zainab, as an Afghani refugee living in Iran, personal tragedy and loss struck when

she and her siblings were attacked in a domestic dispute where three of her siblings were killed.

Zainab and her younger sister survived, but were unconscious and hospitalised for months as they

were treated of the injuries they sustained from the domestic attack.

I remember like one month later I was in hospital [participant sounds emotional], when I became

conscious and know everything; and for a while I didn’t even know that two of my brothers and

one of my sisters they passed away [participant sounds emotional]. After that, me and my younger

sister we were in hospital, my sister was really, really, bad injured, like I was injured badly too

but we were long time in the hospital. (Zainab, Middle East)

Angua, Naing Thein, and Zainab have described some of the difficult and sometimes tragic events that

characterised their personal living experiences as refugees. Often, such distressing refugee life


experiences were laden with challenges that rendered them vulnerable to many potential dangers in

their environments.

The difficult, distressful and traumatic refugee life experiences described by participants were likely

to adversely affect their wellbeing, even after their subsequent resettlement and engagement with

the VET sector in Australia. However, surviving such experiences unmistakably involved some form of

resilience and first-order personal agency (Frost & Hoggett 2008; Jerusalem & Mittag 1995). This

means that first-order personal agency was still imperilled in these volatile refugee environments,

which were mainly characterised by restrictive personal, social, and institutional factors. Refugees

were often trapped for decades in these protracted encampments of living in unsafe and sub-human

conditions (Zeus 2011), necessitating the humanitarian intervention of others like the United Nations

High Commissioner for Refugees to provide basic living amenities. The high dependency on ‘others’

for survival and the basic living conditions and the lack of supportive environments (Bakewell 2010)

significantly inhibited refugees’ exercise of personal agency and taking charge of their living.

In all, the resilience displayed by participants in surviving war and violence, fleeing to safety, and

living through distressing refugee life experiences was an agentic quality; however, their high

dependency on others for survival significantly limited their personal agency of being self-sufficient.

In the next section, the occupational opportunities for refugees are discussed, with a focus on the

contribution of education and work to participants’ life experiences and personal agencies.

Occupational opportunities

Engaging in an occupation, for example, accessing and engaging in education or work were some of

the empowering ways that participants could reclaim their loss of personal agency while living as

refugees. Naing Thein was excited about an opportunity for him to go to school.

I was kind of very privileged guy when I was born; since I was growing up as a kid, I wanted to

study you know in the village we didn’t have any opportunity to get an education. In the village it

is really, really a challenge for the village people to get a teacher, you know; just to come and

teach. So for us it is like a luxury to have a teacher come and teach in the village. For me the first

time I remember as a kid, they were sent to the school; I was so overjoyed this was the first time

to be able to study. (Naing Thein)

However, Naing Thein’s education in Burma was interrupted because his family had to flee across the

border and become refugees in Thailand. On the other hand, Abdul-Jabbar was not keen on advancing

his education while living as a refugee in Syria because he was satisfied with his engineering degree

qualification, despite being unable to secure an engineering job:

No, I did not try because I have already got my Bachelor degree of engineering in Iraq from my

country. But the things I am very sorry for, that time in Syria, I couldn’t get a job as an Engineer

with my qualification. (Abdul-Jabbar)

Despite having no realistic work opportunities, other participants were determined to access and

pursue employment activities to improve their socioeconomic lives. For example, Okayo, a refugee

from the Sudan, could only find work as a labourer in Uganda; however, he was motivated to keep

working because he realised the dangers of being idle and doing nothing in the refugee camp.

I used to be a labourer there, not in the city; in the district, the camp was very, very far from the

city. My plan was to continue with studies, but I found it difficult. That’s why, you know,

sometimes if you are staying idle, it will lead you to somewhere not good, that’s why I said, I

should involve myself. (Okayo, Africa)

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Due to poverty and illness, Okayo couldn’t continue with his schooling, so he ventured out of the

refugee camp to look for work that would keep him occupied. Another participant, Angua, described

the concept of food-for-work where workers were remunerated by being given food. The limited and

restricted access to work opportunities in refugee camps meant that Angua and other workers were

paid by being given food.

And we were paid with ‘food-for-work’ [participant chuckles]. And that is because that is the

environment, and there is nothing I can do, and the best thing is we were the workers who were

only getting that ‘food-for-work’. So, sometimes we can even sell them and we get money,

depending on the situation. But sometimes we use it for our own consumption. (Angua)

The descriptions of Naing Thein’s and Abdul-Jabar’s education experiences and Okayo’s and Angua’s

experiences of work exemplify the challenging and sometimes exceptional nature of engaging in an

occupation while living as a refugee.

Involvement with an occupation while living as refugees was likely to form participants’ basis for their

subsequent VET and employment outcomes during resettlement in Australia. Engaging in education

was also likely to be an exercise in restoring participants’ capability to exercise personal agency and

enhance their wellbeing because ‘the fundamental goal of education is to cultivate human agency’

(Bai 2006, p.7). Indeed, there is relational interdependency between personal agency and the

affordances created by engaging in an occupation (Billett & Smith 2006; Billett, Smith & Barker 2005).

Education can be an empowering agency that assists people to shape and gradually transform their

lives and regain feelings of self-worth (Santibáñez 2008; Yamazumi 2007). Similarly, engaging in work

and being in employment or working through learning and education also generated personal agentic

feelings of self-worth (Billett 2011; Kallinikos 2003). However, despite being in an occupation, the

magnitude of adverse and challenging refugee life experiences could not afford participants the

adequate agentic empowerment required to solve their deprived wellbeing as refugees.

In summary, participants’ past refugee life experiences were likely to adversely affect their exercise

of personal agency. It is these kinds of significant and distressing experiences that refugees undergo

before immigrating and engaging with the VET sector in Australia. This means that refugee

immigrants’ subsequent resettlement and engagement with education and training are likely to be

affected by these significant personal histories. The next section therefore is a discussion of

participants’ immigration and resettlement in Australia, including their access and participation in the

Australian VET sector and TAFE institutes.

Resettlement and VET experiences

Resettlement for refugees provides permanent protection to victims of war and violence through an

immigration process that gives them the opportunities of living and being nationals of other countries

(Department of Immigration and Citizenship 2011; United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees

2011). Each year the Australian Government, through its Humanitarian Program of the Department of

Immigration and Citizenship and with advice from the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees

provides resettlement opportunities to a number of refugees from different parts of the world.

However, it is well documented that refugee immigrants in Australia regularly confront social

exclusion experiences (Campbell & Julian 2009; Shakespeare-Finch & Wickham 2009; Taylor 2004).

Social exclusion denies individuals the capability to exercise the personal agency of participating and

contributing to different aspects of society (Hayes, Gray & Edwards 2008). Despite being in relatively

safe environments, participants reported experiencing incidences of social exclusion in Australia. In


contradiction to the very objective of granting them resettlement, social exclusion experiences were

an additional burden acting against many participants’ efforts of recovering from their past distressing

refugee life experiences. Participants described their present resettlement experiences of social

exclusion in terms of: (a) confronting racism and racial discrimination, (b) difficulties with literacy

and English language proficiencies, and (c) experiencing sociocultural dissonances. In the next

sections, each of these refugee resettlement factors is discussed by considering how the VET sector

could provide meaningful supportive environments for these new Australians.

Racism and racial discrimination

The social exclusion experienced by refugee immigrants, often through racial discrimination, created

social barriers that adversely affected their resettlement in Australia. Perhaps the most significant

social exclusion experiences that affected refugee immigrants are the incidents of racism and racial

discrimination they regularly encountered. For example, according to Abdul-Jabbar, discrimination

incidences towards refugee immigrants seemed to be on the rise in Australia.

I am surprised of for 10 years till now I found the rates of discrimination going up; up, up,

unfortunately. And everywhere, not in a certain place, sometimes when you are walking with your

wife or your daughter who wearing hijab, and Australian people passing through in their car, they

just yelling to you some very bad words or ‘go back to your country!’ or sometimes they throw

something. And that happened to most of the refugees, especially for the women wearing hijab,

and especially for the black people. (Abdul-Jabbar)

Another participant, Nahimana from Burundi, described about an incident where he and a fellow

African were racially taunted and abused while travelling by train. They were expressly told that

‘black’ immigrants like them came to Australia to drain financial resources.

So you guys just eating our money! You black! He started shouting, abusing say ‘what are you guys

coming to do here?!’ Argh! On my side for that day really I was very angry until I was not happy to

hear the way he was just talking. (Nahimana, Africa)

Nahimana was upset because the person taunting them, like many others, thought of him and other

‘black’ immigrants as a burden on the Australian society. While Abdul-Jabbar and Nahimana described

their experiences of racism and racial discrimination in public, Bizimana from Burundi, described

feeling threatened and discriminated against while he was studying at a TAFE institute. He described

feeling uncomfortable when the teacher always sat close behind him during assessments and told him

that he (Bizimana) was likely to cause accidents and destroy the laboratory.

‘I sit behind you always because you are not confident’. I said ‘I didn’t invite you’. ‘No, I must sit

to you because when you burn the lab, is me I can be in trouble’. So that teacher was sitting

behind me, and I didn’t pass! I got scared to go back there because of that teacher. She made me

angry. (Bizimana, Africa)

Bizimana did not perform well in that specific subject, so he decided to find another TAFE institute

where he could continue with his studies. He advised his fellow refugee immigrants studying at TAFE

institutes to speak out if they felt that they were being discriminated against, especially during

assessments.

What I used to tell our community, our black people studying at TAFE, ‘Don’t be scared, don’t be

angry’, if you see the teacher is discriminating you; tell him ‘You are discriminating me, you are

not marking me very well’, don’t scare! (Bizimana)

NCVER 87

These descriptions by Abdul-Jabbar, Nahimana and Bizimana exemplify how social exclusion

experiences of racism and discrimination could be offensive as well as threatening to the victims, and

could abate their personal agency of participating and contributing to the Australian society.

Such social exclusion experiences could adversely affect educational outcomes for refugee immigrants

attending TAFE and other educational institutes in Australia (Matthews 2008; Olliff 2004; O’Sullivan &

Olliff 2006). Social exclusion and racial discrimination, however dysfunctional and distorted (Collin III

& Preciphs 1991), were likely to prevent refugee immigrants from experiencing meaningful learning at

TAFE institutes. Moreover, the Australian Government has identified that refugee immigrants have in

the past suffered grievously through victimisation (Department of Immigration and Citizenship 2009);

therefore, that recognition needs to be extended to ensure that further victimisation by social

exclusion be avoided. However, this issue can be addressed with the understanding that socially

excluded members of society could be re-engaged and assisted to participate in the wider society

through provision of agentic opportunities and access to resources (Robinson 2004). For example, VET

authorities, in conjunction with local refugee immigrant communities, non-governmental

organisations, and governments, could regularly organise and host education and diversity programs

that aim at educating society about the social exclusion practices of racism and racial discrimination.

The objectives of such proposed diversity programs could focus on the unlawful nature of social

exclusion, racism, and racial discrimination, as enshrined in the Australian Commonwealth Racial

Discrimination Act 1975, The Racial Hatred Act 1995, and the Queensland Anti-Discrimination Act

1991 (Qld).

It is however appreciated that the Australian VET sector has acknowledged the importance of cultural

and racial harmony at its institutes, as provided by the ‘discrimination’ clauses in the Department of

Education, Training and Employment (DETE) code of conduct document. The TAFE Queensland

Student Rules has also identified discrimination as an unlawful activity:

Discrimination occurs when a person is treated less favourably than another person because of

perceived attributes such as age, gender, sexuality, race, ethnicity, cultural background,

disability status, or socio-economic status … Acts of discrimination will be considered as acts of

behavioural misconduct and will result in disciplinary action, and may be reported to the

appropriate authorities. (TAFE Queensland 2013b, p.4)

Cultural, racial, and religious harmony would provide supportive learning environments, which will

assist refugee immigrants to regain their diminished personal agencies and re-engage with the wider

society. Furthermore, social exclusion in the VET sector could be tackled like other social vices that

require a concerted effort by society. For example, refugee resettlement stakeholders could come

together and offer practical measures for tackling this social problem by conducting public education

forums and debates broadcast in the traditional as well as social networking media. These forums,

programs, and debates could also serve to inform the general public about circumstances that refugee

immigrants have undergone prior to their immigration, as well as educating members of public about

the refugee life experiences that other society members have never experienced.

In all, the VET sector should ensure that these proposed programs that address social exclusion,

racism, and racial discrimination in TAFE institutes have the clear and measurable objectives of

restoring refugee immigrants’ capability to exercise personal agency and to fully participate in

Australian society. The next section is a discussion of another possible dimension of social exclusion,

that is, the likely low proficiency levels of literacy and English language skills amongst refugee

immigrants in Australia.


English language proficiencies

The possible low proficiency levels of literacy and English language skills amongst refugee immigrants

could be a barrier to their resettlement because such skills are required for social engagement in

Australian society. For instance, Abdul-Jabbar wanted to improve his literacy and English language skills

so that he could easily communicate with the community and also assist him in his daily activities.

I would just like to improve my [English] language, and it is compulsory you know to get 500 and

some other hours for English. So I attended level III, certificate III directly and then I finished

certificate III and certificate IV. And then, of course it is not enough, but I felt that for my job,

for my writing, for my reading, for my dealing with the people. (Abdul-Jabbar)

On the other hand, Okayo was taking his Certificate II in Access 10 course at a TAFE institute and was

aiming at advancing his education to either university or other VET courses. He was looking forward to

furthering his education with a diploma or degree qualification in readiness for other opportunities

that may come his way.

I have since, I think go back to academics and do more, because I am reflecting about my future,

maybe things will change, maybe in future they will need somebody who completed year 12

[participant chuckles]. I am currently doing Certificate II in Access 10. After finishing it, I can still

do year 11, year 12, and after that I can go to Uni or do any diploma course. It will open for me

ways. (Okayo)

For Abdul-Jabbar and Okayo, their engagement in different courses at TAFE institutes to improve their

literacy and English language, among other skills, was important because this would assist them in

‘dealing with people’ and ‘opening ways’ for them respectively. However, without attaining such key

skills, they could easily be socially excluded and disengaged from society.

Literacy and English language skills are a basis for communication and social engagement in Australia

(New South Wales Government 2006), and the possible lack of such skills amongst refugee immigrants

could socially exclude them from participating and contributing to society. For refugee immigrants,

having good English language skills were important to their successful resettlement in Australia

(Department of Immigration and Citizenship 2012) because such skills would assist in their

communication and social engagement with society. Furthermore, when individuals acquire

communication, social, and occupational skills, they consequently are empowered to exercise the

personal agency of participating and contributing to society (Zimmerman 1995). As such, these

communication aspects of the social exclusion facing refugee immigrants could be addressed through

the provision of targeted literacy and English language skills, mainly through TAFE institutes. In an

attempt to tackle this communication issue, the Australian Government requires newly arrived

refugee immigrants to participate in Adult Migrant English Program (AMEP) courses, which are mainly

offered by TAFE institutes (TAFE Queensland 2013a). In the state of Queensland:

The Adult Migrant English Program (AMEP) is provided by TAFE Queensland to help migrants and

refugees to learn how to read, write, speak and understand the English language. Eligible migrants

and refugees can study English with the AMEP for up to 510 hours or until they reach functional

English, whichever comes first. All AMEP students enrol in the Certificates in Spoken and Written

English (CSWE). (TAFE Queensland 2013a)

These Adult Migrant English Program courses are designed to address the possibility that migrants and

refugee immigrants were likely to have certain inadequacies in their English language skills

(Department of Immigration and Citizenship 2012). For many refugee immigrants, this inadequacy could

NCVER 89

be as a result of English not being their native language as well as the possible lack of educational

opportunities to learn the English language due to the challenging refugee life experiences.

Low literacy and English language abilities have been cited as some of the contributing factors that

prevented refugee immigrants from gaining meaningful employment in Australia (Multicultural Affairs

Queensland 2001). The acquisition of English language skills could therefore improve refugee

immigrants’ chances of gaining employment, which in turn will build their agentic capacity of fully

participating in shaping Australia’s future. For these reasons, TAFE institutes could ensure that

refugee immigrants acquire literacy and English language skills, not only for social engagement

purposes, but also as a fundamental exercise of agency in their participation and contribution to

society. However, while designing and implementing TAFE institutes’ English language curriculum, it

is important for VET authorities to understand and acknowledge these new Australians’ difficult past

refugee life experiences as well as the challenging present resettlement experiences. In doing so, it

would assist them to understand why it could be a daunting task for some refugee immigrants to learn

a new language like English (Miller, Mitchell & Brown 2005). It is expected that when the VET sector

understands refugee immigrants’ backgrounds and is therefore able to adequately meet their literacy

and English language needs, these new Australians could acquire the capacity to exercise the personal

agency that will assist in their communication and social engagement in Australia.

In all, the provision of literacy English language skills in TAFE and other institutes could significantly

contribute to addressing the social exclusion experiences that refugee immigrants regularly

encounter. The next section is a discussion of how sociocultural dissonances are likely to contribute to

refugee immigrants’ social exclusion experiences in Australia.

Sociocultural dissonances

As new Australians, refugee immigrants are likely to feel socially excluded if the wider society does

not understand, acknowledge, and appreciate their sociocultural backgrounds, and vice versa. For

example, Abdul-Jabbar stated that no cultural activities took place at his TAFE institute and some

teachers were insensitive to refugee immigrants’ religious beliefs.

And the social activities are not so good especially in TAFE, so there are no any cultural activities,

there is no encouragement for the people to express their culture and to be proud of the culture

or the religion or the thoughts. And some of the teachers are actually very tough against some

religions, against Islam; so they are always making some jokes about Muslims or about the Muslim

man can marry four to five women and also which is not suitable; not suitable. It put a barrier

between the teacher and the student. (Abdul-Jabbar)

The sociocultural ‘barrier’ Abdul-Jabbar is referring to was an example of instances where refugee

immigrants felt socially excluded as they participated in learning activities at TAFE institutes.

However, despite participants having many other challenges, Bizimana said that a few teachers at his

TAFE institute were quite supportive. For example, he described being provided with an ESL (English

as a Second Language) teacher to assist him during an assessment.

I found some teachers there they helped me, because I didn’t have enough English — like Biology

was hard to pass, I got lots of, I repeat like 4 times, they are tolerating me that I don’t know

English. While doing exams they provided me another teacher, ESL teacher, doing exam with

them. And I got that ESL teacher, asked me my background, he was really happy but said ‘this guy

is trying’, he was helping me and giving me enough time. (Bizimana)


According to Bizimana, the English as a Second Language teacher was understanding and helpful to

him. Similarly, Nahimana was impressed by the professionalism displayed by teachers at his TAFE

institute. He described the good relationships with the teachers and was appreciative that some

teachers at the institute went beyond their normal classroom teaching duties to become mentors.

What I have realised, all teachers it seems they have been trained; they are well trained because

the way they treat, they treat according your level. Teachers they will help you, and they will

support you really for what they know how they can treat people. And they can try to advise, not

only teach you, they advise. (Nahimana)

Despite Abdul-Jabbar’s experiences of sociocultural dissonance at a TAFE institute, Bizimana’s and

Nahimana’s experiences of being assisted and supported indicated that there exists capacity for TAFE

institutes to provide supportive environments for refugee immigrants.

For the VET sector to assist refugee immigrants to deal with the sociocultural dissonances they

encounter, TAFE institutes could create supportive affordances that advance quality and beneficial

‘social relationships’ (Jerusalem & Mittag 1995). For example, it would be necessary for teachers at

TAFE institutes to modify their teaching approaches to acknowledge and accommodate refugee

immigrants’ sociocultural and religious backgrounds. However, it is understandable that the teaching

approaches at TAFE institutes are guided by the Australian VET sector, whose curriculum does not

necessarily contain elements of ‘cultural competence’ (Blunt 2007; Mertens 2009). The concept of

cultural competence is described as:

a set of congruent behaviors, attitudes and regulations that connect entities, an agency, or

individuals, which enables that system or those individuals to bring about efficacy in multicultural

situations as well as the ability to operate within the realm of culturally integrated patterns of

human behavior defined by a population. (Blunt 2007, p.99)

In plain terms, cultural competence practices create supportive environments where individuals from

different sociocultural backgrounds can exercise personal agency and be socially involved with

society. The proposed cultural competence practices at TAFE institutes are likely to be meaningful if

teachers applied ‘multicultural’ teaching approaches of integrating diverse sociocultural activities

when engaging with refugee immigrants. The Australian VET sector could encourage teachers at TAFE

institutes to familiarise themselves with diverse sociocultural practices to enable them to understand

refugee immigrants’ sociocultural backgrounds and to provide them appropriate and valuable learning

experiences. Such sociocultural environments and interactions at TAFE institutes could inculcate

empowering personal agencies to both teachers and the refugee immigrants. It is however

acknowledged that cultural competence practices may be challenging for teachers at TAFE institutes

to implement because most of them do not possess such lived sociocultural backgrounds.

The Australian VET sector could therefore encourage the creation of learning environments where

refugee immigrants and teachers at TAFE institutes exchange sociocultural experiences that support

diversity and social integration. Such learning environments would create affordances of mutual

understanding, clarity, and social consensus (Giroux 1988) between refugee immigrants and teachers

at TAFE institutes. These mutual sociocultural exchanges could encourage understandings that foster

culturally competent learning environments at TAFE institutes. Another possible intervention to

address the sociocultural dissonances experienced by the refugee immigrants at TAFE institutes could

be through organising mentorship programs whereby students are partnered with role models from

their own communities who would offer advice on a range of issues, including about resettlement and

education and training in Australia. These mentorship programs could ease refugee immigrants’

NCVER 91

sociocultural dissonances at TAFE institutes because they would provide them with the motivation to

excel, as well as afford them a broad understanding of education and training challenges in Australia.

In summary, refugee immigrants’ social exclusion experiences limited their exercise of personal agency

to attain meaningful education and training outcomes at TAFE institutes. The proposition that the

Australian VET sector could provide support to refugee immigrants is discussed in the next section.

Australian VET sector support

Refugee immigrants’ personal histories were characterised by experiences of war and violence,

fleeing to safety often to a neighbouring country, and living as refugees in difficult conditions. Their

subsequent resettlement in Australia is characterised by experiences of social exclusion due to racism

and racial discrimination, possible low levels of proficiency in literacy and English language skills, and

sociocultural dissonances. Evidently, a combination of refugee immigrants’ past as well as their

present resettlement experiences largely restricted their capability to exercise the personal agency of

fully participating and contributing to the Australian society. However, refugee immigrants’

resettlement in Australia could be improved by acknowledging, understanding, and accounting for

these complex sets of challenging and significant experiences. Specifically, the Australian VET sector

through TAFE institutes could assist refugee immigrants’ resettlement by (a) enacting practises that

could restore their capability to exercise personal agency, and (b) creating supportive sociocultural

affordances that acknowledge and recognise their diverse sociocultural backgrounds. In the next

sections, each of these propositions is discussed in detail.

Exercising personal agency

The extent to which refugee immigrants’ diminished personal agencies could be restored by education

and training can be determined by the extent to which the Australian VET system understands and

acknowledges their backgrounds and experiences. Moreover, refugee immigrants have the desire to

participate in and contribute to Australian society. However, if they are not appropriately and

adequately supported by the VET sector, their capacity to exercise the personal agency of

participation in and contribution to society would continue to be diminished. Granting these new

Australians with opportunities to realise fulfilling lives — the very purposes of granting them

resettlement in Australia — may not be attained unless adequate resources are used to secure this

humanitarian goal. This means that refugee immigrants require particular provisions to assist them to

overcome the disadvantages of their past refugee experiences as well as the current social exclusion

experiences they regularly confront. Exploring the personal agency and social exclusion issues facing

refugees immigrants is a predicament to which the Australian Government, VET authorities, and TAFE

institutes should give due consideration.

The VET sector should recognise refugee immigrants’ traumatic personal histories for the purpose of

providing supportive measures to restore their personal agencies. For example, TAFE institutes could

offer specialised ongoing professional psychosocial counselling services, which refugee immigrants

could easily access in an attempt to address their difficult personal histories and challenging

resettlement experiences. In supplementing these services, TAFE institutes’ personnel could be

trained in basic ‘trauma therapy concepts’ (Allender 1998) so as to provide immediate assistance prior

to referring students for further specialised support. Furthermore, the learning and training activities

at TAFE institutes could be informed by a curriculum whose contents recognise refugee immigrants’

past and present challenges. This means that educators at TAFE institutes could create learning


environments that will address the students’ particular learning circumstances (Tisdell 1995),

including acknowledgement of their challenging personal experiences.

Refugee immigrants’ personal efforts and their readiness to engage in learning activities at TAFE

could also contribute to the restoration of capacity to exercise personal agency. For any form of

learning to take place effectively, the learner’s readiness to engage in the learning activities is

paramount (Knowles 1990). For refugee immigrants, the lack of this preparedness could be a barrier

to effective participation and learning in TAFE institutes. The concept of readiness to learn involves

assessing whether learners are able to ‘cope effectively’ (Knowles 1990, p.60) with learning activities.

It is therefore important for the VET sector to understand refugee immigrants’ significant experiences

so as to assist in exploring effective ways of providing them with the capability of exercising personal

agency to cope effectively with the learning activities at TAFE institutes. This means that the enacted

curriculum at TAFE institutes and the learning activities involving refugee immigrants could be

designed purposely to motivate and empower them. As discussed in the next section, the Australian

VET sector could also provide support to refugee immigrants by creating supportive sociocultural

affordances in TAFE institutes.

Supportive sociocultural affordances

There is a possibility that refugee immigrants could be psychosocially distressed, given their difficult

personal histories and challenging resettlement experiences (Cassity & Gow 2005; Miller, Mitchell &

Brown 2005). For these reasons, resettlement should offer them safe environments to enable them to

fully participate in the Australian society. These social inclusive affordances could have significant

and primary implications for refugee immigrants’ education and training outcomes because perhaps

for the first time, they would have real opportunities to access and engage with life pathways of

empowerment. Therefore, for refugee immigrants, engaging in education and training activities is an

important agentic process (Bai 2006) that could transform them from being socially excluded

dependent individuals into productive and empowered members of Australian society. To assist in this

personal agentic process of refugee immigrants’ transformation, the VET sector could ensure that the

learning environments at TAFE institutes created supportive sociocultural affordances. For example,

educators at these institutes could adapt ‘transformative learning’ (Giroux 1988; Mezirow 1990)

principles, which aim to empower learners with the capacity to exercise personal agency as they

negotiate through life challenges.

It is important to remember refugee immigrants’ resilience and the committed resolve to engage in

learning at TAFE and other institutions, drawing from the difficult and often atrocious experiences

that they have undergone in the past. This resolve should be harnessed so that their difficult past

refugee experiences could be used as a motivation for them to exercise agency and shape their

present resettlement experiences in Australia. The distinct differences between many refugee

immigrants’ sociocultural backgrounds and Australia’s ways of living are likely to have particularly

challenging implications for how they engage with learning. Consequently, when engaging in learning

activities at TAFE institutes, refugee immigrants are likely to be exposed to an Australian curriculum

that reflects and fosters Western cultural values that they may not be used to (Trevino & Davids

2001). As a result, refugee immigrants would find it quite a demanding task to engage in the learning

if the VET sector cannot create supportive sociocultural affordances in TAFE institutes.

To address these sociocultural dissonances, many refugee immigrants require supportive affordances

at TAFE institutes because effective learning takes place in environments that are socioculturally

supportive to learners (Billett 1992). Therefore, socially structured supportive environments at TAFE

NCVER 93

institutes could accommodate refugee immigrants’ sociocultural practices, while encouraging them to

experience new ways of living in Australia. These sociocultural interactions can be achieved without

refugee immigrants losing their sociocultural identities, while at the same time are able to fully

engage with the wider Australian society. In the next section, a set of recommendations for the

Australian VET sector, drawn from the discussions in this paper, is provided.

Recommendations for VET sector

The following set of recommendations, drawn from the study, aim at providing guidelines on how the

Australian VET sector and TAFE institutes could address personal agency and social exclusion issues for

refugee immigrants. It is recommended that:

1 Tutors and teachers at TAFE institutes engaging with refugee immigrants make the effort to be

culturally competent so as to understand and acknowledge the students’ sociocultural

backgrounds. This understanding and acknowledgment will assist in removing the sociocultural

barriers that exist between teachers and students, therefore providing refugee immigrants with a

socioculturally supportive learning environment.

2 The VET sector could provide professional development opportunities for teachers and personnel

at TAFE institutes aimed at enhancing their knowledge and understanding of refugee immigrants’

past personal histories as well as the current social exclusion experiences they regularly confront.

The knowledge of students’ past and present experiences will assist TAFE institute personnel to be

more understanding and sensitive and hence providing a curriculum and teaching activities aimed

at restoring refugee immigrants’ diminished personal agencies. Such professional development

programs could be conducted in partnership with refugee resettlement services like the Forum of

Australian Services for Survivors of Torture and Trauma (FASST) and its constituent bodies.

3 TAFE institutes could organise orientation programs where a diversity of learners and educators

freely exchange knowledge about their basic sociocultural backgrounds, practices, and

experiences. If this two-way process of exchanging knowledge is effectively conducted, it may

result in the VET sector providing more culturally appropriate support to students from a diversity

of sociocultural backgrounds.

4 The VET sector through TAFE institutes could be proactive in curbing the social exclusion practices

of racism and discrimination by encouraging multicultural events in campuses. This promotion of

social harmony could be achieved by developing regular public education programs in partnership

with local communities from refugee backgrounds, other communities, governments, and non-

governmental services. These stakeholders could form working partnerships that would assist in

consulting, identifying, and implementing practical measures aimed at solving the social exclusion

problems affecting refugee immigrants attending TAFE institutes.

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NCVER 95

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NCVER 97

Social media as a learning environment: how, why, where and when people learn Gail Casey Deakin University

Abstract

This paper reports on an 18-month high school action research study and how this could be used to

inform course designers and educators in other sectors of education. The high school study focused on

the integration of social media into the face-to-face classroom. It used action research in a Victorian

public high school in a total of 13 of the author’s classes. Data collection was in three phases over an

eighteen month period. This involved the teacher creating one online social network and sharing this

dynamic environment with up to seven classes in a semester. Blogs, groups, chats, discussion forums,

Web 2.0 tools and a wide range of student-generated content were shared online, within a class and

between classes. Students were encouraged to interact and to share their thoughts and ideas about

planning as well as using their out-of-school skills and knowledge. Each topic, within each class, was

one action research cycle. A number of the findings from this high school study were integrated into

post-secondary education subjects at Deakin University. In an era of social media, this high school

study has provided insight into how, why, where and when students learn, and by blending many of

the findings into Deakin University courses, this study offers a new way of approaching teaching and

learning in the broader notion of tertiary education and training.

Introduction

As a practitioner researcher, this study was part of my doctoral action research whereby I redesigned

my curriculum programs to build social sites and I used the unique qualities of social media in an

attempt to find ways to enhance my teaching and learning programs. This report discusses the

findings from integrating social and participatory media into 13 of my high school classes. The study

was conducted in the Victorian public high school in which I had taught for some years. I integrated

social and participatory media into all of my classes during the 18-month data collection period,

during 2010 and 2011. The action research study concerned the pedagogical and curricular changes

that I (and my colleagues) created, negotiated, reflected upon and documented. Throughout the

research I taught mathematics and information technology subjects to students in Years 7 to 10.

The research was a qualitative study. It required me as the teacher to rethink the curriculum delivery

in order to take advantage of the many communication mechanisms that exist in common social tools

and elements, such as blogs, chat, groups, forums, ‘friends’ and ‘likes’. I encouraged students to

engage in classroom learning activities within the online environment and provided them with

opportunities to interact and to be active participants in the learning process. In doing so, I developed

a learning framework that integrated social and participatory media into my face-to-face classroom,

while focusing on three questions, which are not mutually exclusive.


1 Students: What are the complexities in developing such a framework and what scaffolding is

needed to help students learn within such complexity?

2 Learning: How can this framework help to meet the learning and curriculum needs for schooling?

3 Teachers: What new demands could this type of framework bring to teachers?

During the final year of my doctorate, I had the opportunity to become involved with lecturing and

tutoring at Deakin University. This provided me with opportunities to somewhat explore how the

findings from this study could be used to inform the curriculum delivery of a third and a fourth year

teacher-education subject as well as two Masters of Education subjects. This experience is used to

help discuss how the high school study might be used to inform further practice in post-compulsory

education.

Online groups were used to post class projects and students were also encouraged to create their own

interest groups to interact and to build online friendships with peers in their own class and across my

other classes and subjects. During major projects students were asked to provide online and

constructive feedback to three peers, in an effort to improve the quality of their project work. At

times, students were also asked to create their own assessment criteria and to provide peer

assessment as well as self-assessment.

The social network used was called a Ning (see http://ning.com) and this was similar to the popular

social media environment called Facebook (see http://www.facebook.com), but it was owned and

moderated by myself, as the teacher, and only students approved by me could become members.

Students used pseudonyms when online, for privacy reasons, and they were also asked not to reveal

their identity when in the face-to-face classroom. This added another dimension to the study and

helped the students to make friends with those not normally in their classroom friendship groups. The

Ning allowed students to communicate 24/7. It provided students with an online environment where

they could interact informally while working on their project work. It also encouraged online friends,

who evolved through informal interaction, to take an interest in the project work of their peers.

Many of the class projects posted on the social network encouraged students to use Web 2.0 resources

to design, create and produce their own content and these resources helped students to become

active in the learning process. The social site provided each student with their own ‘My Page’, where

they could create a personal profile, including an avatar, pseudonym and page theme. It provided

them with quick links to their online user-generated content, online friends, groups and comments.

Students could upload files, including pictures and video to the social network and they could also

embed, or link to, Web 2.0 content. Students could also participate in other online content such as

surveys and polls. This social interaction, participation and the creation of user-generated content I

refer to as ‘social and participatory media’.

This article will discuss social and participatory media in the face-to-face classroom environment. It

will then look more closely at the high school study, while using examples of the research data to

make connections to the research questions, before examining the implications of the findings of the

study to the broader notion of tertiary education and training. The article will conclude by blending

the research findings with the concepts of how, why, where and when people learn.

Social and participatory media

As time passes definitions evolve and change, but at this point in time I would define a social network

as an environment that enables its members to engage in interaction through posting their content

http://ning.com/

NCVER 99

(including comments). This is done using the social media tools and elements that are designed to

help them connect, share and publish content and these include blogs, chat, discussion forums,

groups, ‘Friends’ and ‘Like’. For the purposes of this research, I would define Web 2.0 as online

software that requires students to interact and, hence, to create online content. This content usually

has the ability to be embedded into a social network which contains social media tools and elements.

Thus, I consider most social media tools and elements to be a form of Web 2.0.

Web 2.0 can be considered a platform for the evolution of social media (Kaplan & Haenlein 2010) and

such sites are very complex places, where individuals are required to utilise a number of information

technology and social skills to form a virtual representation of themselves and to interact effectively

with others (Callaghan & Bower 2012). These environments are no longer simply communicational

tools that allow one to make new friends, renew or maintain old acquaintances or establish romantic

relationships.

Within the educational sphere, there are a number of online sites that incorporate a range of social

networking features for classroom use. One such site is ‘Edmodo’ (see http://www.edmodo.com/)

and this provides teachers with a secure collaborative environment upon which to post classroom

materials, to share links and videos and to access various teacher tools. These sites work in a similar

manner to school and college Learning Management Systems such as ‘Moodle’ (see

http://moodle.com/). However for this research study, I chose to use a ‘Ning’ online social

environment in my face-to-face classes because I found that systems such as Edmodo and Moodle

were, by comparison with a Ning, onerous to use and structured more for the dissemination of

information that is teacher-directed; I found them to contain strict parameters and were time-

consuming to set up and edit. In a Ning, students were easily able to create their own groups and

discussion forums without approval or organisation from the teacher and they had the ability to

embed and upload their own user-generated content more easily and to share these informally with

their peers. On the Ning, students could also remain anonymous and continue to change their own

profiles and pseudonyms. This allowed them many chances to be accepted into peer friendship groups

and to voice their opinions without the influence of their past.

The use of a safe social networking site was chosen for this study because it provided an online

environment that could support a student-centred approach to learning. It could provide a learning

space where students could actively participate and communicate. As discussed by Davidson and

Goldberg (2009, p.8), modes of communication and, hence, of learning have changed dramatically

over the past two decades, and our sources of information, the ways we exchange and interact with

it, and how information informs and shapes our lives have also changed. In light of such changes, the

classroom projects in this study were redesigned to take a knowledge-building approach that would

encourage students to learn from each other and to build a shared framework for learning (Casey

2011). Within this study, a social learning framework for learning was created to:

enable students to express themselves in different ways

enable students to create supportive resources for their peers to access 24/7

provide opportunities, with appropriate scaffolding, for peer-to-peer feedback and assessment

that could be supportive and effective

encourage the sharing of students’ prior knowledge and skills

encourage creativity

encourage students to take more responsibility for their own learning and that of their peers.

http://www.edmodo.com/

http://moodle.com/


Over this 18-month action research study a partnership in learning evolved between the students and

me, as content delivery moved from teacher instruction to peer-to-peer supported learning. The

giving and the taking of information and the search for a peer who held new information often led to

a social sharing of knowledge.

The high school study

The students, in the study, were 13—16 years of age and were from middle socioeconomic

circumstances. The proportion of students with English as a second language was classified as low to

middle. Classes at the research site usually included 25 students and, generally, each subject had five

periods per week; one period was approximately 50 minutes in duration. I taught information

technology (IT) and mathematics. Data collection was broken into three phases.

Phase A: this occurred during Semester 2, 2010 and included seven classes.

Phase B: this occurred during Semester 1, 2011 and included five classes.

Phase C: this occurred during Semester 2, 2011 and involved 1 class.

This research was largely a qualitative study in which the data collected included teacher planning

documents, classroom reflection and field notes, students’ online activities, students’ tasks, teacher

weekly reflections, teacher mid-term reflections and teacher end-of-term reflections, as well as

critical friend feedback. Figure 1 indicates the directions of the three research questions. Each of

these was broken down into categories and data were tagged in relation to these categories, linking

them to each of the three focus areas: students, learning and the teacher.

Figure 1 The directions of the three research questions

I created one Ning social networking site to share with my classes each semester. Although the

‘world’ could view each site, only members could post and be involved in the online activities. The

one Ning site became the learning management system for my classes during each semester. Hence,

three Ning social networks were made over the 18-month data collection period. Each Ning site

NCVER 101

opened up opportunities for new literacies and multimodal methods of learning through the dynamic

nature of Web 2.0, and its associated user-generated content. These became part of the day-to-day

classroom activities.

This study was influenced by Nuthall’s (2007, p.16) argument that students learn a lot from their

peers and that teachers cannot be fully effective unless they take these peer relationships into

account. This concept helped to focus my teaching approach, through the action research cycle, to

one where students were active participants in learning. Each cycle of action research from one class

would inform the cycles of my other classes and a shift in the teacher—student relationship was

identified in the research data. Figure 2 shows the wide range of elements that were embedded into

my classroom practices and samples of each of these were captured in the data collection.

Figure 2 The tools and elements embedded within the curriculum design of the class projects

Designing the research to allow all of the students, at any point in time, to share the one online social

network helped to integrate curricula as well as promoting interaction across all of my classes.

Learning within social and participatory media

Some researchers, such as Valenzuela, Park and Keek (2009), argue that investment in social networks

enables individuals to develop forms of trust and reciprocity, and these support the successful

engagement in collective activities. Valenzuela, Park and Keek (2009) assert that this builds social

capital and allows individuals to access information and opportunities that would, generally, be

unavailable. This research study looked to build such social capital and helped students to become

valued and active participants in the learning process. As new teaching and learning contexts evolve

there is a need to view these in light of what it means to teach and to learn in the twenty-first

century and relate this back to the classroom context.

Throughout this study I redesigned my classroom projects to encourage and incorporate interaction

through blogs, groups and discussion forums as well as encouraging students to create and publish

their user-generated content. In using such online interactive methods within the classroom, I was


able to integrate many opportunities for students to create and share content. These encouraged

students to express themselves differently and opened up opportunities for the use of new literacies

and multimodal methods (Casey 2013b). Figure 3 shows a screen clip of the ‘Main’ page of the Ning

social networking site, used during Phase B. Many links to the main social tools and elements can be

seen within the various headings and links.

Figure 3 The main social network site during Phase two

To navigate this site the students largely used the main menu, shown in the top left-hand section of

the screen clip. This main menu appears on every page within the site and provided them with quick

and efficient access to class projects and their own content. Using the action research cycle over the

18 months provided a mechanism for continual improvement on how the site was designed, how the

students accessed project material and how they posted their work for assessment.

Student focus

When working within the social networking environment, students were not confined to rows of desks

with school bells marking the beginning and end of each learning period: students were able to

continue their interaction, online, at a time that was convenient to them. In exploring ways for

students to design, create and publish their work online they were provided with online sources and

links to Web 2.0, such as the following, which usually engaged and motivated students and these also

helped to encourage them to be active online.

http://animoto.com/ — create a quick video presentation using an education account

http://ghs2010.ning.com/group/digitalfootprints

http://www.toondoo.com/ — fast way to make cartoons

http://www.tagxedo.com/ — visually stunning word cloud

http://voicethread.com/ — http://ghs2010.ning.com/group/onedayoneworldglobalproject

combines picture podcasts when working collaboratively

http://animoto.com/

http://ghs2010.ning.com/group/digitalfootprints

http://www.toondoo.com/

http://www.tagxedo.com/

http://voicethread.com/

http://ghs2010.ning.com/group/onedayoneworldglobalproject

NCVER 103

http://www.voki.com/ — simple podcast with an animated avatar

http://ghs2010.ning.com/profiles/blogs/project-4-by-rubyrose

http://www.timetoast.com/ — create timelines

https://bubbl.us/ — simple mind mapping - http://ghs2010.ning.com/photo?xg_pw=&page=9 &

http://ghs2010.ning.com/profiles/blogs/project-5-by-la0b0y16?xg_sou...

http://www.xtranormal.com/watch/6919105/ & http://www.xtranormal.com/watch/6919227/

Internet Safety animation

http://polldaddy.com/ — survey maker

http://ghs2010.ning.com/profiles/blogs/project-7-tam-somewhat-final — collaborative mind

mapping

http://ghs2010.ning.com/group/explorers & http://taggalaxy.de/— image finder

global project: http://blabberize.com/view?id=313842 or http://blabberize.com/view?id=313823

— podcast animation

http://ghs2010.ning.com/group/mathswebsites/forum/topics/qr-codes — QR Codes

These sites became part of the scaffolding that was used to support the student focus question.

Students were often given flexibility and choice within project work. Providing students with a variety

of options online was aimed at supporting the different learning needs, interests and abilities in the

classroom. Using the action research cycle, students were encouraged to do things differently and

value the input of their peers. An example of this was a mathematics project in which students were

asked to create help video tutorials to assist peers in revising for a maths test. These were posted

online, and peers from another class were then asked to provide constructive feedback on these

videos. This involved using the language of mathematics and showing mathematical steps and

processes as well as demonstrating problem solving skills. Another example, shown in figure 4,

involves a student, using the pseudonym ‘Lincoln Lewis’, who created a group called ‘Need Help with

Maths?’ Lincoln Lewis used this group to offer maths support to struggling peers.

Figure 4 A student offering to share their skills and knowledge to support their peers in mathematics

Teacher focus

The teacher focus aspect of the research includes a consideration of things that teachers might do

differently. One challenge throughout the research involved exploring how assessment could

http://www.voki.com/

http://ghs2010.ning.com/profiles/blogs/project-4-by-rubyrose

http://www.timetoast.com/

https://bubbl.us/

http://ghs2010.ning.com/photo?xg_pw=&page=9

http://ghs2010.ning.com/profiles/blogs/project-5-by-la0b0y16?xg_source=activity

http://www.xtranormal.com/watch/6919105/

http://www.xtranormal.com/watch/6919227/

http://polldaddy.com/

http://ghs2010.ning.com/profiles/blogs/project-7-tam-somewhat-final

http://ghs2010.ning.com/group/explorers

http://taggalaxy.de/

http://blabberize.com/view?id=313842

http://blabberize.com/view?id=313823

http://ghs2010.ning.com/group/mathswebsites/forum/topics/qr-codes


incorporate a more student-centred approach while remaining accountable to school assessment and

reporting requirements. An example of this can be seen in figure 5, which provides a screen clip of a

blog posted by a student with pseudonym ‘O-o’. The students were required to develop their own

assessment criteria for a major project and post it on their blog in readiness for three peers to

provide the assessment. Students were also asked to reflect on their learning while undertaking self-

assessment. This blog, shown in figure 5, was part of a project in information technology in which

students were required to create a game using ‘Kodu’, a free programming software (see

<http://fuse.microsoft.com/projects/kodu>). It should be noted that, as the teacher, I did not know

how to use the Kodu software and I used my lack of knowledge to encourage students to support each

other by sharing their knowledge and project investigations. This included activities such as searching

the internet to investigate Kodu, finding examples of the software and finding online tutorials to help

model the use of Kodu. The social networking site provided an ideal mechanism for students to share

this knowledge and to help create a knowledge bank of open information to share with the class.

Figure 5 After a major project a student lists the things learnt

Students were asked to post their games online and to use screen clips to help explain their game to

peers. Throughout projects peer feedback was also used to inform the student about how to improve

the quality of their project work.

Learning focus

Throughout the Ning students were able to ‘Lurk’: they were able to watch and learn from the

interactions of their peers. The words from Thomas and Brown (2011, p.77) as they explain how tacit

knowledge grows through personal experience and experimentation helps to explain how I felt as the

teacher through some aspects of the learning process, ‘You can’t teach it to me, though I can still

learn it’. The open nature of the Ning online site allowed students to learn by watching their peers

and by exploring the social and participatory aspects of projects. When considering the Learning focus

question, my mind turns to what is commonly known as twenty-first century learning. I also think of

the informal learning that occurs in students’ out-of school activities and the critical literacy,

multimodality and new literacies that are involved as students use their mobile devices. Within the

social site, there existed many opportunities for the growth of tacit knowledge as students ‘lurked’

http://fuse.microsoft.com/projects/kodu

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across subjects and age groups. This could be seen through the many peer-created interest groups and

the changing of student personal profiles.

As the action research cycle continued, embedded within project work were opportunities for students

to share their prior knowledge and use this as a stepping stone to extend themselves in their special

interest areas. An example of this is shown in figure 6 where a student with the pseudonym ‘Microsoft

Sam’ had a special interest and talent in programming using ‘Visual Basic’ software. This software was

not specifically part of the class curriculum, but flexibility was built into the design of the classroom

project to allow students to share their out-of-school interests and knowledge. Having used the

software extensively outside school, the student was able create video tutorials in a class project to

help others learn some programming skills using the Visual Basic software. Other students became

interested in the software and this student became a valued resource for the class and across classes.

Figure 6 A student asks for peer feedback

The Ning social network supported, in many ways, an holistic approach to learning. In the data

collection, students’ out-of-school skills, emotions and knowledge were often captured in informal

discussions within and around class project work. These included discussions such as the death of a

pet, the death of a popular international racing car driver, sport, music and computer games. Figure 7

shows a screen clip from the class social site of one student’s discussion post, which was used to air

their frustration on a particular day. This student, at the time, used the pseudonym ‘Odd1’ and

deleted the discussion after a few hours.

Figure 7 A discussion forum created by a student in need of self-expression

Through social media, my students could connect with others from around the world. They could also

interact more readily with those more knowledgeable in their own classroom and, more generally,

with my other classes. Through social and participatory media students could engage, simply and

easily, in conversations and could gain feedback and support for class projects: anywhere and at any

time. This aspect was demonstrated more directly through global classroom projects during the first


and third phases of data collection. During the third phase the social network was used for

collaborative projects between my Australian class and other classes in Russia and Romania.

The social site provided 24/7 interaction easily and efficiently and this supported collaborative

projects with schools around the world. It also provided opportunities for students to take more

responsibility for their interactions and user-generated content. The use of the social site for global

collaboration was acknowledged internationally for the innovative approach it offered to online

learning and won first place in the online learning awards presented by the International Society for

Technology in Education (ISTE) in June 2012. (The award description is given at

http://www.iste.org/membership/awards-recognition/sigol-online-learning-award).

These global projects helped students to appreciate that classroom learning had the potential to be

borderless and can occur anywhere and at any time. They began to realise that their interactions

influenced their thinking and the awareness of others. This highlighted the global nature of their

learning. Figure 8 provides a screen clip of the global projects offered to students during this final

phase of the research.

Figure 8 A screen clip of the global classroom projects offered to students

‘We humans keep adding to the mix of technologies and resources for enhancing, extending and

transforming learning’ (Bonk 2009, p.15). These words from Bonk have encouraged me to develop new

pictures of teaching and learning with technology in my classes. My pictures were also shaped through

the ‘new culture of learning’ that Thomas and Brown (2011, p.17) explain is happening all around us,

everywhere, and they assert that it is powerful. In looking at the online learning spaces used during

this study, the analysis showed that students used a variety of ways to demonstrate their learning,

and possibilities existed to support a more individualised approach to learning, while learning could

occur across subject areas and age groups (Casey 2013a).

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Implications of the research study

In opening a discussion regarding the implications of the findings of the high school study to the

broader notion of tertiary education and training, I shall first summarise those findings and then

discuss how this research could inform further practice.

The following provides a summary of the research findings.

The students

Students gained confidence in their interactions when given more flexibility and freedom to build

their own interest and learning groups.

Students were able to work differently online, compared with the classroom, and some students

behaved very differently when online.

Students often changed their online identity, and the use of pseudonyms and changeable profiles

allowed them to remain anonymous, take on different personas and, at times, provided them with

another chance to be accepted within different peer groups.

Scaffolding was needed to help improve the quality of peer feedback, but this type of feedback

was appreciated and valued by students.

The learning

Merely posting projects online that were written for the classroom did little to change the way

students learned and hence teacher projects needed to be redesigned to take advantage of the

qualities of social and participatory media.

By posting their responses to teacher-directed tasks online, students became models for their

peers and provided a shared learning experience that involved concepts of knowledge building.

A changing mindset of the teacher took place over the 18-month action research process and a

type of essential ‘unlearning’ occurred (for both teacher and students).

The teacher

The action research process was necessary to maintain momentum for changing practice over an

extended period of time.

The concept of critical friends needed to be widened due to the global nature of the study.

Parents appreciated the availability of the online help resources that the social site provided.

An effective triangulation of student assessment data was possible through the development of

peer-to-peer feedback/assessment, student self-assessment and teacher observations.

Less time than expected was needed to monitor the social site once the teacher—student

relationships were built.

Informing further practice

After the analysis of the high school study I integrated aspects of social and participatory media into

my tertiary preparation and teaching responsibilities. The high school findings provide me with insight

into how students can become active participants in class projects, the ways in which students are

able to become resources for their peers and why the social environment offers a more global

perspective for learning.


In 2013 Deakin University upgraded to a new learning management system called ‘CloudDeakin’ (see

http://www.deakin.edu.au/current-students/study-support/dso/what-is/index.php). CloudDeakin

provides the university with a structured system for curriculum materials and assessment for students.

It also offers a range of social tools such as blogs, chat, groups and discussion forums to encourage

interactivity and engagement in learning. Figure 9 provides a screen clip of a student’s Main

CloudDeakin page. One red arrow indicates the links under the student’s ‘My Tools’ menu; this

includes ePortfolio, locker, blogs, groups, chat and discussion forums. These indicate links to tools

with the potential to offer social interaction within the structure of tertiary education. The second

arrow in figure 9 provides the student with links to their other university subjects. The student’s

CloudDeakin page shown in this figure could be considered similar to the ‘Main’ page in the high

school Ning site, shown earlier in figure 3. On CloudDeakin, each student has their own ePortfolio,

where they can reflect and share evidence of their learning with others within and beyond the

university. In the high school study, this ePortfolio could be considered similar to each student’s ‘My

Page’. Both face-to-face and fully online classes have access to CloudDeakin similar to figure 9, as

necessitated by the lecturer and Unit Chair.

Figure 9 The home page for a student within Deakin University’s learning management system

As found in the high school study, incorporating an online environment in the face-to-face classroom

can open up opportunities for 24/7 access to resources. It also allows students to use their mobile

devices to access the learning system and encourages them to explore their learning anytime and

anywhere. The high school study showed that this has the potential to create a more personalised

learning approach, whereby students have further options to explore and incorporate their interest

areas and to connect and collaborate to support their class projects. In more structured learning

environments such as CloudDeakin, social tools such as ePortfolio, chats, blogs, discussion forums

or groups provide opportunities for peers to interact and learn from each other, as in the high

school study.

Figure 10 shows a screen clip in CloudDeakin of part of the front page for the subject called ‘EXE734

New Technologies in Education and Training’. The three arrows near the top of the screen clip

identify links to ‘Messages’ for the student, ‘Updates’ of news items from the student’s subjects and

http://www.deakin.edu.au/current-students/study-support/dso/what-is/index.php

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‘Subscriptions’ to specific groups or discussions that a student has chosen to follow. The fourth

red arrow points to the student’s ‘Site Tools’, which provide links to the discussion and group

pages that have been set up by the lecturer or Unit Chair and are subject-related. Note that the

blog and ePortfolio shown in the ‘My Tools’ in figure 9 are not subject-specific but can be controlled

by the student.

Figure 10 When logged as a lecturer, the main screen for the Subject ECX703, showing the ‘Site Tools’ menu

Online tools and elements within the CloudDeakin site can allow students to access a range of audio

and video resources, collaborate through talk and chat with individuals or groups and check the

academic integrity of their assignments, to name just a few of the options available. Each lecturer

has access to many tools that enable such opportunities in the learning environment, some of which

can be seen in figure 11.

Figure 11 ‘Other Tools’ menu (from the ‘Site Tools’ in figure 10), available to lecturers


Figures 9, 10 and 11, in conjunction with the discussion regarding CloudDeakin, provide an example of

how formal educational institutions are building social tools into their learning environments. Some of

these are specifically set up to be used within a subject, while others hold more flexibility and

contain options determined by the student. In looking at figure 11, the set-up options for lecturers

largely appear oriented towards administration and assessment, but the three red arrows help to

identify opportunities for a more social learning to take place.

It should be noted that the high school Ning social sites evolved over the 18-month data collection

period and the curriculum projects were redesigned to take advantage of the social tools and

elements within the site and incorporated a range of Web 2.0 tools — a hybrid environment. The

findings from the high school study evolved through a continual process of improvement, generated by

the action research cycle. Within these cycles of improvement the teacher mindset continued to

evolve and moved to support a more student-centred approach. The changes that occurred and the

findings that came from the three phases of the high school study hold significant potential for other

online learning management systems, including CloudDeakin. In the high school study I redesigned

class projects to take advantage of the unique qualities of the social tools and elements of the social

site. Many project examples have been published demonstrating ways by which students design,

create and publish their knowledge and by doing this they provide models of learning for their peers.

In the redesign of project work students were provided with opportunities to work in a real-world

context, adding authenticity to projects and this enabled peer-to-peer sharing to move past concepts

of cheating and into the realms of knowledge building. The social tools and elements offer a

mechanism by which students can interact, share and learn from each other. However, it was through

the redesign of the class projects that I could take advantage of these mechanisms, enabling a more

student-centred learning to take place.

In my tertiary experiences it has been difficult to redesign curriculum programs, but I continue to

seek opportunities for students to find resources, to connect, to share and to learn from each other.

One example of this was in my online master’s subjects, where I instructed students to respond to at

least three of their peers in the weekly discussion forums. This encouraged students to interact more

closely rather than merely posting responses to their curriculum content, and these peer-to-peer

connections evolved into critical and supportive feedback. Peer-to-peer relationships were built and

these were valuable during online group work. Students discussed their prior knowledge and skills in

their learning and this allowed the class to acknowledge some peers with very interesting backgrounds,

hobbies and talents. One student was found to have produced a website that publishes creative

drawings and this provided an excellent example for project work. The students were able to share

interesting journal articles that were more in line with their particular field of interest; these could

then be critiqued by peers and a valuable contribution to the learning of the others could be noted.

Integrating social and participatory media into tertiary classes enabled students to explore a more

global perspective of education and to discover a wealth of educators who publish resources and

course content online. Students were encouraged to explore further collaborative sites and to share

these with their peers. Using learning management systems such as CloudDeakin allowed for a type of

home base to be built and there are extensive opportunities to link external resources into such

environments. This helped to build a bank of knowledge and resources that could be shared with

others, one where a more student-centred learning system could evolve. As in the high school study,

peer-to-peer knowledge-building approaches were possible because the teacher/lecturer was able to

move away from the one-to-many and into a shared approach to learning.

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In the future, I aim to incorporate a more supportive social environment to encourage my pre-service

teachers to stay connected with their peers while in the, so called, ‘heat of the moment’ of their

teaching practicum. This will offer a supportive community, one that allows them to share ideas and

resources and to provide opportunities for collegiate support and encouragement. It may also help to

move them out of their teaching comfort zones and into zones where they can explore a new culture

of learning, as discussed by Thomas and Brown (2011). Opportunities now exist for many educators to

incorporate social and participatory media into their curriculum.

It is hoped that this research and the connections it makes to my tertiary experiences will provide

encouragement for educators to explore the use of social and participatory media within their

education programs. This research clearly identifies that, when such media are incorporated, there is

a need to redesign student projects to focus on a more active student-centred approach to teaching

and learning. From my experiences, I recommend that practitioners take an action research approach,

whereby the cycles of learning provide an excellent mechanism for improvement.

Final comments

The rapid advancement of information and communication technology, and its pervasive use in work

and daily life, has dramatically changed the way we live, the way businesses are conducted and the

way knowledge is constructed, distributed, challenged and improved upon (Lim, Chai & Churchill

2011). Such advancements challenge, as argued by Lim, Chai and Churchill, teacher education

programs to prepare teachers who can constantly learn, unlearn, relearn and construct new practices

with technologies.

The high school action research study involved the pedagogical and curricular changes that needed to

be created, negotiated, reflected upon and documented, as social and participatory media was

incorporated into the face-to-face classroom. The action research process was used to redesign

projects that incorporated the use of social media in a contemporary pedagogical approach to

schooling. The social online environment also offered students the capacity to take on a new persona,

as well as a more equal playing field for those less confident in the face-to-face classroom. This opens

up the possibility for further discussion and research involving equity and social justice. Many of the

social tools and elements used in the high school research are available in other learning management

systems and all of the high school assessments and reporting for all classes participating in the

research were accepted without question by the school community. Many of the findings from the

high school study can be used to inform course designers and educators in other sectors of education.

I note the following in regard to the use of social media as a learning environment.

How? Students are able to learn by watching, doing, experimenting and simply absorbing knowledge

from the events and activities and context around them. By redesigning curriculum projects to take

advantage of the interactive tools in social and participatory media, educators can create a valuable

student-centred environment, one that is connected globally to a wealth of resources.

Why? All students today are increasingly expected to develop technological fluency, digital

citizenship and other twenty-first century competencies, despite wide variability in the quality of

the learning opportunities provided by schools (Greenhow & Robelia 2009). It was not sufficient to

use the social site to simply post curriculum projects and allow students to post responses and

interact through project work. Social sites have the potential to offer rich and engaging real-world

learning opportunities whereby students can use their skills and knowledge to become active in the

learning process. Social media, as a hybrid environment for learning, moves past mere engagement

and into building skills and knowledge, and is more able to personalise the learning experience.


Where? Although a Ning social network was used in the high school study and CloudDeakin was used

as an example in the tertiary sector, many of the social tools used are now common in educational

learning management systems. Through such networks and tools, learning can occur with experts

and peers anywhere in the world. The learner has the flexibility to be located anywhere.

When? This article offers an approach to teaching and learning that encourages students to express

themselves in many different ways. In such online environments learning can occur through

computers, laptops and mobile devices anywhere and anytime.

Social and participatory media offer education and what appears to be a continuous development of

online interactive applications. These can help to add excitement and possible new dimensions for

learning. Such environments support students to become active contributors to the learning of others

while building links between students’ real-world activities, their classroom curriculum and informal

learning. In this way learning has the potential to become multilayered and better enmeshed with the

needs of the learner. Further research is needed into how the unique qualities of social and

participatory media can be used to support the learning process. This will also help us further

understand how, why, where and when people learn.

Acknowledgments

I wish to acknowledge the contribution made by Dr Muriel Wells, my Associate Supervisor, and Dr Lou

Preston in helping to relate the findings of the high school study to the tertiary sector. I would also

like to acknowledge Professor Terry Evans for his continued advice and support as my Principal

Supervisor throughout the high school action research study.

References Bonk, CJ 2009, The world is open: how web technology is revolutionizing education, Jossey-Bass, San

Francisco.

Callaghan, N & Bower, M 2012, ‘Learning through social networking sites — the critcal role of the teacher’, Educational Media International, vol.49, pp.1—17.

Casey, G 2011, ‘Knowledge-building: designing for learning using social and participatory media’, eLearning Papers [Online], 27, viewed 10 October 2102, <http://elearningeuropa.info/en/node/111104?paper= 111465>.

——2013a, ‘Building a student-centred learning framework using social software in the middle years classroom: an action research study’, Journal of Information Technology Education: Research [Online], 12, <http://www.jite.org/documents/Vol12/JITEv12ResearchP159-189Casey1186.pdf>.

——2013b, ‘Interdisciplinary literacy through social media in the mathematics classroom: an action research study’, Journal of Adolescent and Adult Literacy, vol.57, pp.58—69.

Davidson, C & Goldberg, D 2009, The future of learning institutions in a digital age, Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Massachusetts.

Greenhow, C & Robelia, B 2009, ‘Informal learning and identity formation in onine social networks’, Learning Media and Technology, vol.34, pp.119—40.

Kaplan, A & Haenlein, M 2010, ‘Users of the world, unite! The challenges and opportunites of social media. Business Horizons, vol.53, pp.59—68.

Lim, CP, Chai, CS & Churchill, D 2011, ‘A framework for devleoping pre-service teachers’ competencies in using technolgies to enhance teaching and learning’, Educational Media International, vol.48, pp.69—83.

Nuthall, G 2007, The hidden lives of learners, New Zealand Council for Educational Resesarch, Welllington.

Thomas, D & Brown, JS 2011, A new culture of learning: Cultivating the imagination for a world of constant change, Charleston, USA, Amazon.com.

Valenzuela, S, Park, N & Keek, K 2009, ‘Is there social capital in a social network site? Facebook use and college students’ life satisfaction, trust, and participation’, Journal of Computer-Mediated Communication, vol.14, pp.875—901.

http://www.jite.org/documents/Vol12/JITEv12ResearchP159-189Casey1186.pdf

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Increasing engagement with vocational education and training: a case study of computer games-based safety training Mark O’Rourke Victoria University

Abstract

In this case study, vocational education and training (VET) learners, their teachers from the

construction industry, and multimedia developers were observed and interviewed about their

experience of trialling the White Card Game, a 3D immersive games-based learning environment. The

White Card Game was developed by aligning performance criteria from the unit of competency

CPCCOHS1001A: Work safely in the construction industry with gameplay scenarios. The customisation

of the game environment allowed learners to take on workplace identities and contextualised learning

through the creation of virtual work-based scenarios. Data collected included observations, surveys,

interviews and in-game data that measured the student’s game playing performance.

Learners reported a preference for games-based learning over traditional delivery methods. They

expressed a greater understanding of the learning content and the relevance of the learning activity

to vocational outcomes than that gained through print-based resources. When observing and

interacting with students in class, the teachers reported the greater engagement in the unit by the

students who participated in these trials than they had seen in previous cohorts. Teachers also noted

that their own experience of being part of the development and trialling of the game, combined with

its focus on work-based game scenarios, facilitated their own professional development. In addition,

the development team learnt to refine their production process to target the needs of learners by

integrating learning outcomes so they were an intrinsic aspect of the gameplay design.

The development and trial of the White Card Game was part of a wider research project exploring

alternative pedagogical approaches to increase VET learner engagement in theoretical subjects

through the use of virtual vocational environments. A distinct gap exists in the Australian VET market

for effective and engaging training that utilises digital technologies that tap into learners’ individual

needs. Games-based learning is particularly suited to VET learners because it offers agent-driven,

experiential, process-based learning in which critical information is delivered in real time through in-

game actions and interactions, rather than through paragraphs of written text.

Introduction

This case study is part of a wider PhD research project which investigated the ways by which

computer game design can impact on trades pedagogy. The research found impact in three key areas:

learner engagement with course work; teacher efficacy with digital learning tools; and learner agency

with work-based simulations. Three games targeting different discipline areas were developed and


trialled in conjunction with specialist teachers, game developers and students from Victoria University

and Polytechnic West. The research used a design-based research approach within an activity

theoretical framework, and mainly adopted qualitative methods, including semi-structured interviews

and observations, in addition to gameplay data generated from in-game data collection systems. This

case study provides details on one product, the White Card Game, which was developed to align with

CPCCOHS1001A: Work safely in the construction industry and was trialled with teachers and students

in the Certificate III in Construction (Carpentry).

A similar pedagogical/production model was adopted for the three games in the PhD research and

lessons learnt from the iterative cycles of trials and development informed the design of the game

adopted for this case study. The development of the games was aligned with a focus on real-world

situations, which enabled students to adopt vocational identities in the game worlds and participate

in decision-making not usually experienced until after some time on the job, or even until confronted

with a critical situation in the workplace. Learnings gained and improvements implemented included:

greater consultation with industry experts to create game scenarios that are vocationally authentic;

an increased focus on catering to novice game players through scaffolded in-game tutorial systems;

improvements in modelling and animation to make the game environment more lifelike; increased

player agency to enhance vocationally directed challenges; and the maintenance of suspension of

disbelief through improvements in the game story.

The White Card Game project was proposed in response to discussions with teaching and learning

managers in the Faculty of Technical and Trades Innovation at Victoria University in relation to their

concerns over the effectiveness of current delivery practices for CPCCOHS1001A: Work safely in the

construction industry. This was focused in particular on the large numbers of the student cohort with

very low English skills and/or minimal previous schooling. In addition, anecdotal evidence from

teachers delivering the White Card qualification via a more traditional Power Point presentation

indicated significant retention issues, with one teacher commenting that it was not unusual for

students to fail to return to class after a break when the qualification was being taught using this

delivery method.

The product development for the White Card Game was funded by the Commonwealth Government VET

eLearning Strategy. The game has Creative Commons licensing and has been made freely available via a

website <www.whitecardgame.com.au>. To date there have been over 1000 downloads from registered

training organisations, where one download can be implemented across the whole organisation.

Background

Games-based learning offers opportunities to cultivate problem-solving skills in goal-directed,

challenging and engaging ways that enable learners to be active agents in their learning (de Freitas &

Maharg 2011). Games-based learning contexts offer interactive curriculum and consequential learning

experiences and can produce contextualised skill development by supplying information on demand

and immediate real-time feedback (Barab, Gresalfi & Ingram-Goble 2010). The pedagogy of games-

based learning aligns with the skills required by students in the twenty-first century. In particular,

games-based learning addresses the need for ‘effective citizens and workers’ (Partnership for 21st

Century Skills 2013) to exhibit a range of functional and critical thinking skills, such as information

media and technology skills, and learning and innovation skills, including critical thinking, problem-

solving, creativity and innovation, and communication and collaboration.

http://www.whitecardgame.com.au/

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VET learners have chosen practically orientated training and are often disengaged when delivery has a

substantial written, non-practical component (Smith 2001). In order for digital learning technologies

to be relevant to VET they need to be engaging and valid educationally, and have the capacity to

simulate work-based interactions and learning. The case study examines the alignment of games-

based training with the learning preferences and styles of VET students, which Smith and Dalton

(2005) identified as more visual than verbal, in that they like to watch and see rather than listen and

read; hands-on learners who prefer to learn by doing and by practising; characterised by socially

contextualised learning — these students prefer to learn in groups with other learners; and are not

self-directed learners, but prefer instructional guidance and clear directions. In addition, games-

based technologies are scalable and flexible, offering opportunities for training solutions in remote

locations to diverse student cohorts, and provide significant cost savings by modelling real-world

work-based scenarios without having to factor in downtime for expensive industrial processes to train

workers (O’Rourke 2010).

The pedagogical model of the White Card Game included the incorporation of performance criteria

into a game context. The game was designed as a formative assessment tool where learning took

place during gameplay and student performance improved through cycles of failing and retrying tasks

until players were successful. Although there were in-game mechanisms to collect user performance

data and monitor task completion, these were not used for summative assessment purposes. The

project goal was to create situated delivery using new technologies in order to improve engagement

with the training material, rather than to create an e-assessment tool.

The first-person shooter style game allows the player to focus on interactions with other players and

the objects in the game world from a first-person perspective. The game scenario takes place on a

multi-storey construction work site, where the user plays the role of a new employee. The game goal

is to identify hazards and make decisions about reporting and controlling them on the work site. The

user must report to the supervisor when entering the building site and then remains in contact with

the supervisor throughout the game via (virtual) mobile phone. The supervisor gives direction and acts

as a guiding agent, facilitating user goals. Although the White Card Game addresses all performance

criteria in the game scenarios and could be used as an assessment tool, a decision was made that the

aim of the game was to facilitate content delivery rather than be used as a summative assessment

tool. There were also concerns by industry training boards (SA Construction Industry Training Board,

pers. comm., 7 February 2012) about being able to authenticate user identity if the game was used

for online assessment.

‘Serious games’ (games used for purposes other than entertainment) can offer a transformational

change in pedagogical approaches by being intrinsically motivating, providing immediate feedback to

learners and scaffolding skill and knowledge acquisition (Gee 2007). Serious games offer the

possibility of a complex, diverse and engaging learning environment. In order to develop this

capability the project team developed resources via an iterative production process, guided by a

design-based research approach, which involved continuous cycles of design, enactment, analysis, and

redesign within a VET context (Collins, Joseph & Bielaczyc 2004). This included refinements of the

game tutorial system to enhance in-game interaction and scaffolded learning mediated by the

supervisor character to enable novice users to learn while playing the game. Rewards for advanced

game players and already competent learners were also improved to enhance player engagement.

Furthermore, the games-based learning activity was analysed by drawing on interview and survey data

from teachers and students and observing student interactions amongst peers, with teachers and with

the game in the class environment.


Literature review

The significant transformation of the form and capacity of teaching and learning technologies in the

last decade has major implications for training delivery in the twenty-first century (Moyle 2010).

Digital technologies offer the opportunity to create meaningful and relevant training environments,

enabling alternative forms of social interaction, providing ready access to information and facilitating

the engagement of learners both synchronously and asynchronously (Naismith et al. 2005). In the

context of games-based learning new skills are acquired in the process of exploring a game world and

taking on the challenges presented to the learner. While content integration provides an engaged

experiential learning experience (Egenfeldt-Nielsen 2007), the rapid evolution of technologies and

software offers challenges for teachers and trainers to rethink delivery and develop digital literacies

(Buckingham 2010; Yelland 2007) that will provide optimal conditions for education and training.

Using new technologies for VET

Games-based learning is relevant to VET as there is alignment of VET learning styles and preferences

(Smith & Dalton 2005) with games-based educational contexts. Games-based learning offers an

environment which is more visual than verbal, catering to VET learners who prefer to watch and see

rather than read and listen. In addition, VET learners prefer to learn by doing and practising, a

fundamental feature of first-person shooter games; and are characterised by socially contextualised

learning preferences. VET students are not self-directed learners, but like to have instructor guidance

and a clear understanding of requirements (Smith & Dalton 2005). Gameplay can offer progressive

skill acquisition through tutorial-based systems and artificial agents, which include scaffolding to

achieve game goals and guidance for players as they progress through the game world (Squire 2011).

There is significant discussion in the literature about how learning technologies could be incorporated

and implemented in teaching contexts (Carliner & Shank 2008; Laurillard 2009; Moyle 2010). Much of

this current debate stems from the criticism that usage of digital technologies tends to involve

students learning from technologies as ‘disseminators of knowledge’ rather than with them as

‘cognitive tools (Kim & Reeves 2007). Yelland (2007, pp.1—2) proposes that rather than ‘mapping the

use of new technologies onto old curricula’, we should be rethinking curriculum and pedagogy to

leverage the impact that new technologies can have on learning and meaning-making through their

capacity to engage, motivate and be mobile. Naismith et al. (2005) suggest that technologies that are

a ubiquitous part of everyday life should also be integral to the delivery of training in order to ensure

continuing relevance for VET learners.

However, in order to be effective in learning environments it is critical that digital technologies are

accessible and usable for both VET teachers and students. Factors that can negatively impact on

teacher accessibility and usability include a lack of skills or the sense of the efficacy needed to either

use the technology or to be able to effectively work with technology experts such as ITS support staff

and multimedia developers during the development and roll-out of resources. Jones and O’Shea

(2004) document perceptions of VET educators who reported feeling that their employment was under

threat from technology and that they felt unable to cope with technological change. This

estrangement from digital technologies was further noted by Clayton et al. (2011), who found that

VET teachers even struggled to keep their industry-specific skills relevant in the face of rapid

advancements in technology. Many educators are also fearful of the complexities involved in using

technologies, lacking an understanding of the pedagogy of using technology-based learning resources

(Yelland & Tsembas 2008). The cohort of VET teachers participating in this case study were mostly

older males. Recent research indicates a negative correlation between age and frequency of

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technology use, and shows that, while men report higher levels of computer use than women in

general, the exception is men from skilled vocational backgrounds, whose uptake of digital technology

remains the lowest of all educational categories (Chesters, Ryan & Sinning 2013). These mostly

affective factors highlight the potential obstacles to introducing new technologies into the VET

classroom, especially in the trades areas.

Serious games for training

This case study examines the characteristics of games and how they impact on engagement and skill

acquisition. The interdependency of game elements and the emergence of narrative through

computer gameplay (Salen & Zimmerman 2004) were examined in the context of promoting effective

learning by supplying work-based narrative experiences for the user. In gameplay the user is

continually confronted by critical events, which positions learners as active decision-makers such that

the learner, content, and context are inextricably bound together and subject to a continual revision

of understanding. The scaffolding that games can offer students in engaging with and critically

analysing learning content embedded in the narrative structure is described in the Theory of

Transformational Play (Barab, Gresalfi & Ingram-Goble 2010).

Games-based learning aligns performance criteria with gameplay, resulting in experiential learning as

players are situated in a space where they have a defined role and where their actions affect a

specific context. The impact of players’ decisions also provides consequential feedback, where

learning occurs through both successful actions in the game and from making mistakes and failing

tasks. This ‘context with consequentiality’ (Barab, Gresalfi & Ingram-Goble 2010) results in an

experiential consequentiality that is pedagogically different from the arbitrary consequentiality that

is present in the traditional assessment practice of submitting assignments in exchange for grades.

Vogel et al. (2006) found that educational games provide higher cognitive gains and promote better

attitudes toward learning in users compared with traditional teaching methods. Similarly, Egenfeldt-

Nielsen (2007) found that content integration delivers an engaged learning experience. According to

Wilson et al. (2009, p.234) educational games should aim to produce engaged learners who

‘participate unprompted and exert both effort and concentration to accomplish the goals of the game

while gaining the appropriate skills (educational goals) to use later in another application’.

Consequently, the game tasks need to be well defined and must direct learners’ attention to

important tasks and learning goals through predefined rules. These rules are defined by the game

programming, which effectively constrains the user’s actions and movements in the game world,

thereby facilitating learning by guiding learners as they engage in learning tasks (Riedl et al. 2008).

This is particularly pertinent for VET, in that the opportunity for learners to get on-the-job training

with the appropriate amount of supervision to ensure a safe and meaningful experience may be

limited by the lack of opportunity for situated training; access to specialised equipment; and

resourcing for industry liaison. It is hoped that the introduction of games-based virtual learning may

address this gap.

The virtual construction site portrayed in the White Card Game represents a vocational setting in

which users make decisions and solve problems common to real-world scenarios. This action and goal-

directed learning provides opportunities for players to choose where they go and what they do. This

activity differs significantly from many conventional pedagogical practices, where learners are

required to remember information that they struggle to contextualise and understand at the time due

to their limited vocational experience; they are then expected to apply these (mis)understandings in

real-world situations. Gresalfi et al. (2008) contend that such conventional learning practices

ultimately undermine the learning process, because they do not support meaningful understanding


and there is no accountability or authority attached to knowledge acquisition and use. These

pedagogic characteristics are common features of many VET programs and have been shown to impact

significantly on retention (Harris et al. 2001).

The pedagogical approach adopted for the design and development of the White Card Game aligns

with competency based delivery and assessment by emphasising knowledge and skills in practical

situations (Hall & Saunders 1993). The design achieved this by defining the purpose of assessment

(Gillis & Griffin 2008) through the introductory tutorial and ‘a learn through failure’ approach;

gathering evidence of competence through the scoring system; interpreting users’ gameplay against

performance criteria; making a judgement about competence in the game goals; and recording the

outcomes via the choices and decisions that users make in the game.

Engaging through gameplay

Engagement in learning can be interpreted as how motivated or involved the learner is when

interacting with educational content (Kearsley & Shneiderman 1998). Understanding how users

interact with and learn from serious games can help in optimising effective games-based learning

activities. By scaffolding the motivation and involvement inherent in well-designed gameplay to the

learning process within games-based tools, we can foster engagement in learning. In order to achieve

this, an understanding of the alignment of gameplay and learning goals is required.

Engaging gameplay often includes notions of fun and the link between challenge, activity and

enjoyment in games-based learning has been fittingly coined ‘hard fun’ by Papert (1998). Klimmt’s

(2003) conceptual model of gameplay describes how game players experience enjoyment through

immediate feedback loops, which supply user agency and interactivity in the gameplay; motivation

expressed as cyclic feelings of suspense and relief; and engagement with the narrative. Klimmt

describes how these feelings of suspense, anxiety and physical arousal that occur during gameplay are

positively interpreted by players. When these factors are present the player enters a state of flow

(Csikszentmihalyi 1990), which can be described as the process of optimal experience, whereby

individuals are so involved in an activity that nothing else seems to matter. Sweetser and Wyeth

(2005) investigated how the elements of flow are manifested in computer games and proposed a

GameFlow model. In the measurement of learner’s cognition of enjoyment, Fu, Su and Yu (2009)

found that enjoyment is a key factor in effective games-based learning. However, knowledge transfer

is not just about fun and losing oneself in a virtual scenario. Vorderer and Bryant (2004) models a

complex and dynamic experience of gameplay, which highlights the need for attention to motives and

outcomes, as well as the prerequisites of enjoyment, in the design of any game. For a computer-

based learning game to be successful in the VET context where learning outcomes are prescribed, it is

then imperative that attention is given to the dimensions of motivation that players experience.

Ang, Zaphiris and Wilson’s (2010) concept of the centrality of intrinsic and extrinsic motivations in

gameplay is particularly relevant to the VET classroom context of the game trials in this case study.

Intrinsic play occurs when the game software is mediating the game goals, such as when a player fails

a game task and is taken back to a previous location in the game environment, where they can repeat

the task, hopefully learning from the mistakes they made in their first attempt. The rewards and

feedback to achieve successful task completion produce a sense of competence during action, and

support intrinsic motivation (Ryan, Rigby & Przybylski 2006). Extrinsic play happens in the

environment external to the game and can be considered as either reflective play or expansive play

(Ang, Zaphiris & Wilson 2010). Reflective play is integral to the games-based learning activity because

it considers the learning that happens when a player steps outside the game into reality and

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externalises aspects of intrinsic play through communication, sharing and discussion. Expansive play

involves extending intrinsic play beyond the original game context in new patterns of play. This is

pertinent to games-based learning if we accept learnt behaviours expressed in vocational settings as

an extension of behaviours learnt through the intrinsic gameplay. So, when the learning outcomes are

mapped to gameplay scenarios in games-based learning, enjoyment states and game flow facilitate

successful knowledge transfer. The intrinsic factors were an integral aspect of the game design, and

were an important consideration when interviewing students about their experience. The interview

data collected during trials and the observation of the class-based delivery, including interactions

amongst students and with teachers, allowed for an analysis of extrinsic play.

The sensory, challenge-based and imaginative immersion model (SCI) (Ermi & Mayra 2005) and

Appleman’s (2007) Experiential Mode Framework (EMF) focus on how the game design helps to link the

game components in the 3D environment to the functionality of gameplay. The different dimensions

of the gameplay experience in a first-person shooter style can confer agency to the user. This was a

key consideration in working with the game developers to translate performance criteria from

CPCCOHS1001A: Work safely in the construction industry into an action-oriented approach, which

situated these as game tasks and goals in the 3D environment for the learner to embrace as personal

challenges. Also considered was the linking of the challenges from this action space to the skill level

of the user, and how to develop a sufficiently adaptive system to cater to the user’s learning progress

(Nakatsu, Rauterberg & Vorderer 2005).

Currently, there is substantial literature theorising the potential of games-based learning (de Freitas

& Maharg 2011; Gee 2007; Wang, H, Shen & Ritterfeld 2009) but there are very few examples of

games developed and trialled to teach vocational skills, and almost no literature evaluating

engagement. In particular, there is a need to investigate how games may be best designed and

developed to optimise learning outcomes, with consideration of the target audience and game

parameters. The research of which this case study is part addresses this gap in the literature, and it is

hoped it will help inform pedagogical processes for producing interactive tools for the VET sector.

Research process

The research design of this project was shaped by the significant resources and time required to

develop and refine a VET computer game, as well as the need to document the tensions and

interactions among the developers, teachers and students who influenced the design, application and

use of the resulting game. A design-based research methodology, which incorporated the

development and subsequent trials of a computer game for vocational studies, was adopted.

Methodology

Design-based research has been chosen for this study as it recognises ‘technology as a system beyond

its tools’, (Amiel & Reeves 2008, p.29), thereby allowing for the examination of how game design,

development and trials impact on educational practice. Because of the complexity of the setting and

interactions it is difficult to measure the impact through predictive research. Rather, the real-world

context of the game trials can be considered a ‘living laboratory’ (Kafai 2005), where critical

variables are identified through activity and informed by previous research. The research involved

iterative analysis, design, development, and implementation, based on collaboration among

researchers and practitioners in real-world settings (Wang, F & Hannafin 2005). The five

characteristics of design-based research are that it is interventionist, iterative, process-oriented,

utility-oriented, and theory-oriented (van den Akker et al. 2006). When applied to the use of


technology in education, it actively involves analysing: students acquiring skills or knowledge;

teachers or facilitators acting as mentors; learning support tools; and technological resources.

The design of the game for the case study focused on the way in which the curriculum could be

integrated most effectively so that learning becomes implicit while the user plays the game, rather

than explicitly emphasising the educational content. The White Card Game goals involve identifying

hazards and making decisions about who to report the hazard to, and what needs to be done to

control the hazard on the work site. Game assets, mapping of the performance criteria to gameplay

scenarios, and flow charts that outlined the dependencies and choices in the gameplay were detailed

in a design document. The dialogue and text for the HUD (heads-up display) were scripted and the

reward and failure consequences outlined.

Data collection

Data collection techniques included: observations of students and teachers in the classroom while

students were engaged in playing the game; observations of and discussion with the teachers trialling

the game; in-game data collection of students’ gameplay activity during trials; hard-copy surveys

consisting of 12 questions administered to students immediately after the game trial; interviews with

students after the trials; and communication documentation, which included emails and notes from

discussions and meetings with VET teachers and game developers during planning, production and

trialling of the game. The students’ game-playing performance was monitored by an in-game data-

generation mechanism programmed into the game engine, which collected data and posted it to a

secure database. This enabled an analysis of the decisions that users were making in the game and

the choices they made in relation to educational content.

Participants

The nationally recognised White Card qualification is required to work legally on building sites in

Australia. White Card training at Victoria University is delivered as a face-to-face stand-alone

qualification of six hours duration, or is embedded in many apprenticeship programs. The student

cohort for this case study was undertaking the Certificate III in Construction (Carpentry) and

comprised 16 males aged 16—19 years of age. The trade teacher cohort was all male aged 35—60

years. Most students had previously played first-person shooter games, whereas only two of the group

of eight teachers had previous game-playing experience.

The team involved in the production of the White Card Game included trades teachers from the

Faculty of Technical Trade Innovation and the game developers. Regular meetings were held with the

teachers, who had safety training expertise in the construction industry, and their delivery and

assessment materials were accessed to inform the game design. Initial meetings were conducted with

the game development team to ensure that gameplay scenarios would be correctly aligned with the

competency-based learning criteria from the unit of competency (National Training Information

Service 2012). This enabled the developers to envision how the game design would mediate the

learning for the student participants, and provided the vocational context for the game production.

Limitations

The limitations of the research include the narrow demographic and small sample size of the student

and teacher cohorts. The conclusions drawn from the data analysis of the all male student group aged

16—19 years could lessen the generalisability of the findings. In particular, all students were familiar

with first-person shooter-style games and consequently this did not provide the capacity to test the

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tutorial system designed to cater to a diversity of player skill levels. However, conducting trials with

an older teacher group broadened the research base of the case study, as it did provide an

opportunity to reflect on the performance of novice game players and individuals who did not use

computer-based systems frequently.

Discussion

The game development process, from the application of funding through to the implementation of

VET delivery, is influenced by many competing interests. The iterative cycles of design and

development are discussed, in particular the communications among teachers and developers to agree

on an approach to best suit VET outcomes. This highlights the key features of the game, which are

described, along with the impact these factors have on engagement and motivation to successfully

progress game goals. Teacher and student perspectives of the experience of trialling the game from

the collected interviews, observations and discussions illustrate the impact of the game in the class-

based setting. Institutional imperatives, legislative requirements and individual perceptions and

biases all had implications for the development, trial and use of the White Card Game.

Learner perspectives

Trials were undertaken with a single group of carpentry students at the Newport Campus of Victoria

University, all of whom were familiar with first-person shooter-style games. Students were introduced

to the game and then started playing while the teacher moved around the class discussing the game

with them. The mean playing time was 21 minutes, but this included multiple attempts by the

students to complete the game’s objectives. About one hour was allocated to the activity before

students were interviewed and a group discussion conducted. Students were observed to play the

game two or three times, each time trying to improve their score.

The White Card Game requires the user to make decisions about identifying, reporting and controlling

hazards. The game’s feedback mechanism for each of these choices was purposefully designed not to

hint at the correct answer in order to foster collaborative problem-solving activity in the classroom.

This was observed in the classroom as students communicated openly (and loudly) in order to discover

the correct answer. The teacher was also regularly consulted, and his targeted discussion with the

students teased out the correct responses to the problems posed in the game. One student wanted

more automated feedback:

KR: You could explain why hazards are a problem and if the player answers questions wrong you

could give them a hint.

However, another thought the deliberation required of users was a useful way to learn:

TO: Made you think, rather than rushing it, what I should really do here, thinking how to do

hazards, to prevent them.

The majority indicated that gameplay provided a richer learning experience than conventional

methods, which is contradictory to the classroom strategies preferred by teachers:

RB: More interactive than some teacher talking my ears off.

BS: So much easier to learn the basics when you play the game because it gets you involved in

what is happening around you, which makes you pick up things much faster.

LL: It grabs more attention when it’s in a game rather than on a whiteboard.


RB: Better than doing it in the text book, most boys are more interested in doing … doing the

game, the work, than reading the textbook.

Observations of students playing the VET games clearly indicated that they were having fun. They

were engaged with the learning content and interacting with their peers and teacher, and the

majority found this an entertaining experience. This is supported by students’ comments:

PP: Better than doing the written work, and sitting down. You learn more if you are having a good

time.

The positive relationship between fun and cognitive processing suggests that learning is more

successful when learners are being entertained (Singhal & Rogers 2002). While developing a scale to

measure the enjoyment offered by educational games, Fu, Su and Yu (2009) found that game

enjoyment is a key factor in determining player involvement and whether players continue to learn

through the game. In addition, the capacity for games to engage through flow (Csikszentmihalyi 1990;

Sherry 2004) and cognitive challenge, even if the game presents what may be perceived as less than

interesting subject material, can enhance engagement with the content and provide an opportunity to

convey critical knowledge. This was confirmed during the White Card Game trials when students

stayed after class playing the game repeatedly in an atmosphere of engaged competitive enjoyment,

trying to increase their scores and being emotionally involved in the learning content.

Teacher perspectives

Students were observed to interact excitedly as they played the White Card Game. These interactions

involved engaging the teacher in animated discussions about the learning content and the

consequences of failing to identify, report and control workplace hazards. Prior to the White Card

Game trials, teachers commented that they felt younger people were innately adept at using digital

tools and that they were reluctant to trial the games technologies in class due to their own low digital

self-efficacy. The contradiction between the desire to introduce new learning technologies for VET

students that would address the disadvantage they experience in conventional learning environments

and of not being able to implement the learning material due to resistance amongst teachers

presented an obstacle. This hindered the capacity to explore alternative pedagogical practices that

would potentially deliver a positive and engaging learning experience.

This obstacle was overcome for the trials through discussions with teachers and developers, and the

subsequent improvement of the game tutorial system to cater for users who were not familiar with

games-based learning tools. The White Card Game’s tutorial introduction was designed to step the

player through required tasks under the guidance of a supervisor character before moving into the

virtual construction site on their own. This aligns with the real-world context, and is supported by

WorkSafe Victoria campaigns (2008) that emphasise workers should not be afraid to seek help from a

supervisor if they are unsure of anything in the workplace. This design enables players without a high

degree of digital literacy to successfully navigate and achieve game goals. This success was observed

when the trades teachers trialled the game, thereby improving their perception of the game as a

learning tool and enhancing the capacity for reflective extrinsic play in the classroom.

Perceived success of the White Card Game

The White Card Game was designed so that interaction was contextually linked to learning goals,

thereby involving metacognitive processes when engaging with the learning task and content rather

than simply focusing on winning. In interviews, students commented on the relevance of the game to

workplace safety and how they felt they learnt more through the activity-focused simulation than

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they had when studying similar print-based content. During trials the teacher walked around the class

and discussed with students the decisions they were making as they played the game. The discussion

among students, and between students and the teacher while the game was played, were focused on

identifying hazards in the virtual construction site, to whom the hazards should be reported and what

action was required to control the hazard. These discussions were animated and engaged, as the

students navigated the virtual environment, aiming for a high score, earning the maximum possible

wage and connecting these parameters with safe behaviour by avoiding negligence in their gameplay

decisions. Student reflections during the interviews highlighted the significance of the situated

learning experience.

After the game trials, interviews with students indicated a certain empowerment and a sense of self-

efficacy. The survey results demonstrated that the majority of students found learning through the

game engaging and that they had learnt about the topic, with the majority confirming that they felt

confident of their understanding of Occupational Health and Safety.

Table 1 White Card Game student survey results

Strongly disagree

Disagree Agree Strongly agree

I found the game engaging 0 2 5 5

I learnt about the topic playing the game 0 1 5 6

I feel confident I know OHS principles 0 0 8 4

In addition, the student trials of the White Card Game empowered teachers, as they were able to

demonstrate their content knowledge of what was represented in the virtual environment. The

decision-making and problem-solving that students needed to undertake in the game was directly

related to the decisions required on a construction site, and it was this vocational expertise that the

teachers possessed. The capacity for the trades teachers to walk into a classroom of computers, be

able to facilitate a computer-based activity and still be acknowledged as an expert improved their

self-efficacy in teaching with digital technologies.

As highlighted previously, there continue to be obstacles to implementing new technologies in the

classroom in spite of the successful trials and the urging of learning support staff, who advocate a

need for alternative delivery strategies across the entire cohort (Learning and Teaching support staff,

pers. comm., 3 April 2012). These obstacles are often institution-specific, as demonstrated by the

acceptance and widespread use of the game by other RTOs. The funding agreement for the

development of the White Card Game with the VET E-learning strategy included free distribution and

Creative Commons licensing, and the game continues to be successfully downloaded and used by RTOs

nationally. In addition, the game has been highly commended at the European Games-based learning

conference in Portugal 2013, awarded Bronze in the Global Learning Impact awards in San Diego 2013;

these awards recognise the most powerful and influential uses of technology worldwide in support of

learning. The game also won Grand Prize in the Simulation Australia — Serious Games Showcase and

Challenge 2013.

Key features of the game – agency and transformation

The key features of the game include player agency and transformation, which provide motivation to

progress through the game tasks, and in doing so engage with the content and experience meaningful

learning. Agency is conferred on the game player by the game mechanisms and structure and can be

described through different dimensions of gameplay experience. The sensory, challenge-based and


imaginative immersion model (SCI) (Ermi & Mayra 2005), when applied to the games-based learning in

this study, describes how factors such as the 3D graphical dynamism and narrative can provide a level

of immersion that focuses players on interacting with virtual vocational settings and explains how

players reach a satisfying balance between game challenges and their motor skills or cognitive capacity,

which enables task completion. Extending SCI, the Experiential Mode Framework (EMF) (Appelman

2007) incorporates player perceptions and experiences, but also links with game structures and

functionality. Importantly in the VET context, the game structure offers affordances for the player to

develop skills and knowledge while interacting with the learning content in the virtual vocational

setting. The dynamic context relates to game moves and structure, and is directed by individuals’

motivations and intentions (Luckin et al. 2005). The White Card Game is action- and goal-oriented and

rewards player agency and problem-solving skills. Players are able to choose when and where they

engage with content, within programmed constraints. This agency has significant impact on the

learner’s acquisition of skills and knowledge in the vocationally contextualised game environment.

Player agency is demonstrated by the students’ comments below, and also through classroom

observations, which revealed active engagement with the game and motivation to succeed in

game tasks:

HG: Kept you more on track, more focused, instead of sitting down and writing or anything like

that.

DR: the gaming part is that you gotta learn it, you can’t bluff your way through it, you gotta know

it, and that’s really good.’

The contextualised games-based learning is intensely interactive and goal-oriented. Adopting a first-

person perspective positions the learner as though they are standing or walking through the

realistically 3D modelled world. Aligned with VET learning styles and preferences, the agency

conferred on the user in the game environment is a facilitated agency, whereby the game’s Artificial

Intelligence (AI) effectively guides the player towards the game goals in order for them to be

challenged, make decisions and succeed (or fail and retry until they succeed). The findings indicate,

in agreement with Gresalfi et al. (2008), that this agency impacts on learners’ engagement and skill

acquisition. Learner actions in the game are rewarded with feedback that guides them to the next goal

and in doing so scaffolds the learning trajectory. Perception and action are deeply interconnected

(Gee 2007) and student participants expressed feeling a connection to the real world context.

The game context provides a mechanism for players to act with intent thereby creating a motivating

force to engage with the training outcomes and achieve game goals. The White Card Game design

includes character creation and customisation, whereby players invest in the creation of an avatar

before the game begins. This investment in the construction worker identity confers agency in the

game world through the personal achievement of the game goals, and can be described as shaping

‘person with intentionality’ (Barab et al. 2010). When playing a game, players do not experience the

play as their normal self, or simply as an avatar manifesting a novel self, but rather as their virtual

projective self — part real, part avatar. This extends the player’s presence from the real world into

the game world and with this empowers the learner with ‘smart tools’, giving the increased capacity

to investigate the game world (Gee 2003).

Agency in games-based learning activities extends to the learning environment, with both teachers

and students demonstrating an engaged focus for achieving game goals. This extrinsic reflective play

(Ang, Zaphiris & Wilson 2010) involved learners completing the game and achieving best scores. For

teachers it involved actively interacting with students to assist them to achieve the game goals. The

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game feedback facilitated this shared pursuit by providing an activity focus and field of exploration

for decisions and consequences, while progressing through the game world. The impact of learner

agency on acquiring new skills and knowledge was observed in the game trial, in which students

wanted to repeatedly return to the game to improve their scores, thereby seeking ongoing

engagement with the learning content.

The first-person shooter-style of the White Card Game was modelled on a simulated work-based

environment and established player actions and decisions that are strongly aligned with learning

about real-world situations. The game enabled students to adopt vocational identities in the game

world, make decisions and solve problems that are often not always encountered on the job until a

critical situation arises. The games-based learning context goes beyond conventional pedagogical

approaches by offering a traversable space, affording player agency (Calleja 2009) and enabling

learners to consider a multiplicity of factors that impact and influence their actions in work-based

situations. This transformative learning occurs as the participants make meaning from the game

experience as they attempt tasks, and then revise these meanings in a continuing process as they fail

and retry tasks until getting them right (Mezirow 2000) and advancing their objective. This

consequential alignment of performance criteria with gameplay scenarios means that there are

significant implications for making mistakes in the game. While mistakes impact on the capacity to

complete game goals, they also supply an opportunity for resolution and subsequent transformation,

which equates to achievement of the learning outcome. This actionable context (Barab, Gresalfi &

Ingram-Goble 2010) is quite different from conventional training approaches, where the significance

of learning material may not be immediately obvious.

GG: Game reinforces issues. You can always read a book but until you put it into action it doesn’t

make sense. Book doesn’t really show you the safety issues. You need to experience it to really

understand it.

By supplying consequential feedback the White Card Game creates a deep, engaging learning

environment in which key content elements become placed within existing conceptual structures. This

is empowering for players, in that they are presented with the impact of their in-game decisions,

learning through successfully completing tasks as well as from making mistakes.

The findings indicate that a significant majority of participants preferred the consequential alignment

of learning goals with gameplay scenarios to a conventional print and presentation-based pedagogical

process. Participants commented positively on their perceived connection to real vocational settings,

interpreting their gameplay as an authentic situated learning experience. This learning is undertaken

as they interact with the game world, the game mechanics enabling a hands-on mode of learning,

which is generally understood to be a preferred learning style for VET students (Smith & Dalton 2005).

The embedded virtual vocational narrative in the game, along with the fun experienced through being

challenged to complete a game task and the associated entertainment of being presented with

dramatic consequences if participants failed, created an engaging experience, whereby the majority

of participants invested in and were interested in achieving the game goals.

Competing interests and the impact on development

There were a number of competing interests during the development and use of the White Card

Game. Managers in the Faculty of Technical Trades Innovation were aware of the potential for new

technologies in education, including the capacity for raising course and institutional profiles and

offering flexible study options. This accordingly attracts students, which is critical for the current

contestable funding system in VET, where income is based on enrolments. The tensions here were


how to fund and deliver new technologies in education, and at the same time build staff capacity to

use the technologies. The research also aligns with current policy directions at state and federal

levels that emphasises a shift to work-situated vocational education delivery (Skills Australia 2010).

However, the resistance to changing the existing delivery methods by coordinators of the White Card

certification at Victoria University was supported by WorkSafe (WorkSafe Victoria, pers. comm., 7

December 2011), who were uncertain about student identity authentication, nominal training hours

and the role of new technologies. A conventional pedagogical approach was preferred by WorkSafe

Victoria in order for them to maintain their accreditation process of courses. This is in contradiction

to other state authorities, where different priorities apply and online technology-based delivery by

RTOs is sanctioned.

The opportunity to generate commercial revenue is an incentive for institutions to develop innovative

teaching technologies. However, there was conflict with the funding arrangements for the White Card

Game, in that the licensing agreement with the Commonwealth Government was Creative Commons,

which prevented commercialisation of the game. The tension here is that, although the goals of the

Commonwealth in funding such projects were to encourage the widespread distribution and use of

innovative technologies, there is little institutional incentive to tender for these projects. However,

for the White Card Game there were benefits for the partner organisation undertaking the

development of the game, and in addition there was opportunity for research output.

Competing interests were mitigated in the development of the White Card Game through planning

meetings that were conducted with the game development team and teachers to ensure there was an

understanding and agreement in aligning performance criteria from the unit of competency with the

gameplay scenarios. This enabled the developers to understand the training and occupational context

for the game production. However, although the development team had extensive experience, most

of the educational products they had previously developed implemented summative assessment

processes in the form of quizzes. Such products require learners to step outside the intrinsic gameplay

in order to complete conventional assessment aligned with the mastery learning model (Carroll 1989),

which draws on a practice and drill technique. This relies on time spent with the assessment tool,

rather than learning through using the pedagogically focused technology. The focus of the game

design was to implement a formative assessment approach, whereby learning occurred while the

game was being played.

Consequently, the priorities of embedding learning within gameplay were discussed in meetings, and

concepts of action- and goal-directed learning were introduced to the team. Also relayed to the team

was the need to draw a distinction between virtual worlds and games. This required a significant shift

in practice for the team from their experience in designing exploratory 3D world simulations, to

including, in the gameplay, consequences and learning through failure. The design team’s productions

to date had not included a capacity for having fun while exploring. The identification and discussion

of this approach facilitated team development by allowing team members to reflect on the objectives

of learners. This was highlighted by the actions of one developer, who spent a lot of the production

realistically creating hazardous situations with serious consequences for users who failed to perform

safely on the building site. This enhanced the situated-learning experience by integrating ‘context

and consequentiality’ (Barab et al. 2010).

Implications for the VET sector

The implications of developing serious games for the VET sector include their flexibility of delivery

and opportunities for the expansion of capacity. However, significant issues exist relating to

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resourcing the development and VET trainer preparedness for using new technologies in delivery. The

games-based learning resource produced and trialled in this case study can be easily adapted to other

training environments and industries, enabled through its licensing agreement and modular

programming approach. Such resources have the capacity to deliver games-based training contexts

synchronously or asynchronously, in training institutions or in the workplace, which confers scalability

in multiple training domains. Being able to offer customised responsive training anywhere reduces the

need for people to move from where they live and work to gain qualifications, with training costs

significantly reduced by not requiring dedicated training environments with expensive simulation

equipment, or the downtime of industrial processes and productivity. There are limited examples

where significant funds have been spent on immersive simulation-based training infrastructure (Rio

Tinto 2012), and while such budgets are not common, the willingness to invest in such technology is

indicative of the value placed on virtual situated-learning environments. The flexibility of the

technology, particularly in meeting the needs of learners disadvantaged in conventional pedagogical

environments, means games-based training has the capacity to deliver solutions for mass global

training needs. An example is the projected requirement for 500 million people to undertake

vocational training in India by 2022 (National Skill Development Initiative 2009), and with India’s VET

system being poorly equipped and unable to rise to this challenge, alternative approaches must be

explored to meet this need. Situations such as this require flexible, portable solutions, which

integrate effective engaging technologies and suit a diverse cohort.

Another implication for the VET sector is the issue identified by WorkSafe Victoria (WorkSafe Victoria,

pers. comm., 7 December 2011), whereby the authentication of identity of learners participating in

online delivery is often impossible to monitor. Recent funding from the Flexible Learning Advisory

Group has targeted invigilation for e-assessment as an area for development. Such development will

facilitate the adoption of both formative and summative assessment mechanisms for online VET

game deployment.

Observations and interviews with participants indicated that, unlike many other new technologies, a

significant learning curve was not required to be able to effectively engage with the games-based

learning technology. Often the biggest obstacle in implementing new educational technologies is user

resistance. The iterative development of the game addressed this by developing and, through trial

and consultation, improving the in-game tutorial system, which effectively guides novice users

through the initial achievement of game goals, thereby familiarising them with the game

environment. This case study has shown that games-based learning engages learners and presents an

alternative to traditional pedagogy. This was particularly evident with young learners, who were

highly literate in and responsive to games technologies. However the first game trialled in the PhD

research targeted the engineering sector (O’Rourke 2010) and showed that apprentices over the age

of 35 years equally engaged with and expressed the benefits of learning within games-based contexts.

The case study indicated that games-based learning, in addition to being entertaining, can: enable

interactions among teachers and learners; engage participants by making them active agents in their

own learning experience; provide a scaffolded sequence to enhance skill development; and align

assessments and learning with learning outcomes. Games-based learning has the potential to create a

positive impact on student retention, as evidenced by the behaviour of students participating in the

White Card trials, who were observed staying after class playing the game and engaging with the

learning content


Lessons learnt

The relevance of games-based learning to VET delivery today is supported by this case study, which

illustrates how VET learning styles and preferences (Smith & Dalton 2005) are aligned with games-

based educational contexts. Games-based, real-world scenarios align with VET learning styles,

including a noted preference for hands-on experience, as learners get to act and perform tasks as

though they were actually in the workplace. Survey and interview data supported this approach to

learning, as 91% of students agreed or strongly agreed that games-based learning was better suited to

their learning than using traditional pedagogical approaches. Some of the student comments include:

RB: If it is reading you will forget it, where with game I fail so many times and don’t forget it, the

fail is very important.

LN: In a book you just write it down, you don’t learn anything, write it down, that’s the answer,

teacher marks it and it’s all done.

In addition, engaging with games-based learning contexts offered participants new employability

skillsets, whereby the game environment and interaction with teachers offered opportunities to

navigate the world of work, interact with others and get the work done (Ithaca Group 2012).

Interviews with students indicated that they agreed that games-based learning contexts are more

relevant than conventional training for achieving VET outcomes:

SG: It was better than doing the text, it was more interactive, better than just sitting there and

looking at a bit of paper, more enjoyable.

AN: The game was like the real workplace.

The White Card Game has implemented an approach of consequential alignment, whereby the

learning outcomes are aligned with the gameplay scenarios. This approach has been adopted to most

effectively leverage the capacity of games as motivating, entertaining and challenging activities in

order to introduce these features into VET delivery. The survey results and interviews showed a strong

correlation between fun and engagement. This was observed in the game trials, where students were

excitedly achieving game goals while interacting with classmates and the teacher. A positive

relationship between fun and learning (Singhal & Rogers 2002) was indicated by students, who were

simultaneously entertained while being engaged with the curriculum. This was supported by students’

interview responses, with many acknowledging an important connection between having fun and

effective learning.

The White Card Game gameplay provided a motivating force that ensured players moved towards

achieving the learning outcome. The decisions and actions taken by players relate to work-based

situations, which allows players to actively take part in the construction of the game experience while

reflecting on and interpreting the gameplay scenarios. This importantly aligns with vocational learning

outcomes. Observations of students playing the game in the classroom indicated high levels of

engagement and social interaction while achieving game goals. This was supported by the survey

responses, with the majority of students agreeing or strongly agreeing that they found the game

engaging. The gameplay also offers an immediacy of response, which empowers players by allowing

them to experience the consequences of their decisions in the moment, learning through both their

successful actions and from making mistakes and failing tasks. This aligns with VET learning styles,

whereby learners tend not to be self-directed. The game provides scaffolding by indicating whether

decisions are correct and progressing game goals through feedback.

The research also suggests that games-based learning can empower VET teachers to use digital

technologies in the classroom to facilitate students’ achievement of learning outcomes. This was

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contrary to evidence provided by learning and teaching support staff (Learning and Teaching support

staff, pers. comm., 3 April 2012), which suggested that the adoption of innovative learning

technologies provided too many challenges for VET teachers. Observations during the trials showed

that in order for students to successfully navigate work-based game scenarios they actively consulted

teachers. This offered an avenue for teachers to engage with technologies and maintain their identity

as experts.

Conclusion

Contextualised learning is critical for VET learners, in that the focus of their education is very much

situated in the real-world vocational context for which they are training. Games-based simulated real-

world scenarios can present consequential learning to students in worlds that are safe to explore

without fear of failure or putting themselves or others at risk. One student commented that learning

through the White Card Game was the ‘same as learning on a building site, but not as intimidating’.

This comment reflects the WorkSafe Victoria (2008) campaign that suggests young workers shouldn’t

be afraid to ask a supervisor if they are unsure about operational procedures where there are

potential hazards involved. In the game world, failure to mitigate any potential risk impacts on

players with a shocking immediacy. Student interview responses provide evidence that this impact

resonates with students, with the majority expressing that this style of consequential learning had

real traction for them.

Games are powerful, engaging technologies and many of the participants reported being game players

themselves. Combining technologies that learners have grown up with and have an interest in with

pedagogical approaches can inspire a passion for learning. Interest-driven learning provides powerful

motivation. This suggests that rather than asking ‘Can games be good for learning?’, the questions

should be ‘How do we make good learning games’ and ‘Can games help transform education’ (Squire

2011, p.22).

The case study has also indicated that games-based simulated real-world scenarios can empower

teachers in the use of new technologies in the classroom, where previously there was hesitancy to do

so. The accurately modelled virtual environment, which is representative of the real-world

environment, offered a visual cue or familiarity to the teachers in this study. With VET teachers, their

pedagogical profile is defined by their vocational experience in their respective industry. Particularly

with the trades teachers, their industry experience did not involve the use and application of digital

technologies, so there was a degree of reported alienation towards adopting these technologies into

their teaching practice. In contrast, the games-based virtual worlds provided a familiar environment

for them to engage with, as they had real-world experience, which corresponded with the virtual

game scenarios.

The case study shows that action and goal-directed experiences in vocationally oriented virtual

environments align with VET learning preferences and provide evidence that consequential alignment

in educational games enables learners to meaningfully apply disciplinary content. This suggests an

exciting future for targeted games-based training resources in industry. Making a judgment over

whether a particular discipline may benefit from the development of games-based learning resources

must take into account current delivery strategies, existing issues with engaging the student cohort,

specific demographic criteria, financial considerations for providing suitable training, and other

industry considerations. The development of serious games can address many delivery constraints

including: the capacity to simulate work situations in remote and difficult-to-access environments;


requirements for synchronous training in different time zones; or the need for downtime on expensive

industrial processes.

Recommendations for future research and practice

From this case study a number of areas emerge that could form the basis for future investigations and

applications of games-based learning contexts. One profitable area of potential research would

involve exploring design and development enhancements to offer alternative pedagogical approaches

in class-based, work-situated, or personalised learning environments. Research into design and

development enhancements could examine the potential for scalability within VET contexts in order

to provide a framework for ongoing training solutions that meet industry needs. This innovation would

require developing a modular approach to the game programming. As much as game programming

code has the capacity to be modified and used for other games, the reality is that the programming

expertise required to do this takes as much time as an experienced developer would take to develop a

product from scratch, drawing on their own work practices and skill base. An effective modular

approach to structuring the game code would allow educators and instructional designers greater

control over resource development by enabling trial iterations of game development before engaging

programmers to finalise the game production. Currently, unless educators have a comprehensive

understanding of games development, the costs involved in engaging games production teams inhibit

the widespread application of games-based learning due to the lack of sustainable funding sources.

Such research innovation would also facilitate deeper analysis of game parameters, as researchers

would be able to undertake this development in shorter, more focused research intensives. For

example, an area that could be explored in such intensives includes examining optimal training

outcomes for the degree of freedom of movement by the player avatar in the game world. This could

be evaluated by comparing learning outcomes when player movement is either constrained to enable

the targeting of game learning goals, or expanded to a freely roaming design, one that increases the

amount of player exploration of the world. Another area for investigation could be the evaluation of

whether an increased time spent exploring the game world improves engagement and whether this

impacts on training outcomes. After the White Card Game trial one teacher asked whether we could

make a game that would last for six hours! It is probably questionable whether this would be optimal

for skill acquisition.

Longitudinal research regarding the effectiveness and pedagogical implications of games-based

learning is needed and encouraged. One such study could explore whether the transformation

experienced by participating teachers and developers is maintained over time. Additional longitudinal

studies might examine issues such as: whether an increased acceptance of digital technologies is

noted among trades teachers after being involved with games-based learning trials; what the long-

term impact, if any, of using games-based learning contexts on workplace injury data might be,

particularly in the vulnerable early years of employment; and the capacity for games to be delivered

in multiple languages by using closed caption text (subtitles) and/or voice actors. These latter studies

would offer possibilities for examining whether consequential alignment is suited to universal

application or whether different cultures require different pedagogies. The capacity for networked

versions of games-based learning contexts to be synchronously played online in different locations

allows researchers the possibility to investigate the extent of any perceived pedagogical differences

or culturally determined learning preferences.

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Concluding remarks

The rapid evolution of digital technologies provides opportunities to connect learners and deliver rich

pedagogical environments and learning experiences. It may be difficult for us to imagine the

possibilities that advanced computer processing speeds will provide, yet these capabilities are not far

away. Hyperreal immersive 3D environments and exponential increases in network speeds will soon be

able to offer us exceptionally interactive, socially connected games-based contexts that are able to

simulate the experience of working and learning on site. However, technological capacity is not the

only criteria necessary for developing innovative learning products. As indicated by this case study,

the complexity of tensions and interactions that must be negotiated in order to achieve learning

outcomes through games-based learning activity provides numerous challenges. Technology alone

cannot resolve issues with retaining and engaging students. Curriculum must keep step with new

technologies and leverage their potential to enhance learning and connect with the diverse needs of

learners, industry and the VET sector.

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Transparency: tracing its journey into vocational education and training Don Zoellner Charles Darwin University

Abstract

This occasional paper describes the journey of a concept through the use of ethnographic research

techniques. The purpose is not to argue for or against transparency but to tell a story of when and

where the national vocational education and training (VET) system encountered the openness

agenda represented by the word. This description also tells a story of how the concept of

transparency has evolved over time, gained widespread support and the yet-to-be completed

adoption into the VET sector.

An ethnographic research methodology has been used to increase our total knowledge of how the

national training system operates, what gets hidden in its operations and what some of the potential

results of pursuing transparency might be. Drawing upon French historian and philosopher Michel

Foucault’s observations of how Western societies function, the seemingly inevitable capacity of

transparency to simultaneously make some things visible while rendering others invisible will be

explored as it applies to vocational education and training. In particular, it will be argued that the

original goal of using transparency to ensure accountability to the citizens of government actions has

been transformed into a requirement for individual private citizens and training providers to make

their actions transparent to government officials.

Background The context

Transparency has achieved a central position in public policy deliberations concerning education and

training. The Gonski Review (2011) into schooling, the Bradley Review (2008) and the roadmap for

prosperity through vocational skilling produced by the then Skills Australia (2011) all accord special

significance to the benefits of transparency. In vocational education and training, the Council of

Australian Governments (COAG; 2012, p.5) has positioned the achievement of ‘a more transparent

VET sector’ as a major national objective.

The journey recorded in this paper describes how transparency actually contributes to producing the

very system it is meant to portray, while being uncritically represented as a desirable feature of the

national training system. The current set of skills reforms that has been agreed by state, territory and

federal governments enables public bureaucracies to collect ever-increasing amounts of information

about the population (Council of Australian Governments 2012). According to Miller and Rose (2008,

p.204), the knowledge that is produced in the name of transparency ‘is the know-how that promises

to render docile the unruly domains over which government is to be exercised, to make government

possible and to make government better’. Transparency appeals to those who participate in public

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policy debates on education and training because it represents an unremarkably simple and non-

coercive form of disciplinary power (Foucault 1979, pp.170—1).

The research

The research questions addressed in this paper seek to determine where transparency originated,

when and how it arrived in vocational education and training and what are some of the potential

impacts and future directions that might follow. The findings discussed here originate from a much

larger doctoral research project, which mobilised ethnographic methodologies to provide alternative

theorisations of how the various national, state and territory governments have set about making and

implementing VET policy.

The extensive documentary record of vocational education and training has been combined with the

results of a series of interviews with significant contributors, both past and present, to explain the

development of national training policies and programs. Those chosen for interview and the selection

of documentary evidence were identified through a bias-limiting process of ‘snowballing’ and

‘exhaustive review’ (Greenhalgh et al. 2005, p.64), which repeatedly pointed to the same people and

documents being vital to the development of the national training system. The product of this style of

research is a ‘narrative summary’ (Dixon-Woods et al. 2005, p.47), a story about complex events and

which is inclusive in its sources of information, can integrate both qualitative and quantitative data

and relate what has been observed to higher-level theoretical considerations.

The federation of the former British colonies on the Australian continent to create the Commonwealth

Government has provided the backdrop for seemingly endless opportunities for the state governments

to wrestle with the national government over issues of funding, consistency and policy control.

Vocational education and training is one of these areas of contestation. In order to understand how

the national training system has come into being, developed and currently operates, two essential

viewpoints must be considered. One resides in a national perspective, while the other comes from the

state level. The Northern Territory of Australia provides the latter viewpoint. The assumption of ‘self-

government’ by the fledgling Westminster-style Northern Territory Government in 1978, accompanied

by the establishment of state-type bureaucracies and cabinet/executive decision-making, proceeded

in parallel with the creation of the national system of training. As training was a reserved power for

the states, the interaction of the two levels of government provided a greenfields site for the study of

how government moves into a policy arena. A rare feature was the absence of a technical and further

education system in the Northern Territory prior to self-government, due to the pre-existence of the

Darwin Community College. Unlike the other states, the new government chose not to go down the

path of establishing a government-owned and operated training system, thereby achieving

considerable policy and delivery flexibility (Zoellner 2013).

The findings

This paper links the everyday practices of transparency as practised in VET with some of the seldom-

explored theoretical considerations of their impacts. Differing interpretations of transparency will be

discussed and the point of its excursion into vocational education and training identified. These

multiple versions of transparency allow for communication between the different stakeholders who

struggle for the control of its narrative and, consequently, determine who gets to see what.

Invisibility is inextricably united with transparency. Any process that leads to transparency inevitably

makes some objects disappear, depending on how a problem or issue is defined (Bacchi 2009). Indeed,

being made invisible can result from both ‘cognitive narrowing’ (Rokeach 1960, p.48) and other

purposeful activity on the part of governments to ‘render technical’ social issues, in order for


professional experts ‘to diagnose problems in ways that match the kinds of solutions that fall within

their repertoire’ (Li 2007, p.7).

The unions, industries and governments that dominate the policy-making bodies of VET have made the

individual student invisible. But as the capacity of information technologies has increased, the never-

ending demand by governments for information about the population has now made the individual

student available for scrutiny. Additionally, it will be shown that governments have been able to shift

the spotlight from the original target of transparency (governments’ own activities) onto private

organisations and individuals, who are now required to be transparent to public authorities whose own

operations are opaque.

A Foucauldian point of view

The major theoretical perspective guiding this analysis comes from French historian and philosopher

Michel Foucault. He provides an idiosyncratic understanding of power and how it is practised by

modern democratic governments. This is a ‘modest and suspicious’ power, which has developed over

the past four centuries in Western Europe. The evolution of this form of social discipline has been

guided by coincidence, historical accident and luck (Foucault 1979, p.170). Exercising this

contemporary power is not physically coercive, although physical coercion remains an option for those

citizens who refuse to behave in a normal manner. The individual resident of the nation-state is

expected to conduct their affairs in a disciplined manner characterised by self-regulation and

assuming personal responsibility for not only their own behaviour but also the economic welfare of the

nation. In vocational education and training ‘lifelong learning’ is commonly used to describe this

permanent project of self-improvement. The characterisation of unemployment as a personal choice

(Whitfield 1987, p.41) when linked to the definition of unemployment as the major form of social

disadvantage (Skills Australia 2011, p.24) allows for an easy conclusion to be drawn that, because

‘skills and employment issues are integrally interwoven’ (Skills Australia 2011, p.65), a lack of skills is

also a matter of personal choice. Purposely choosing not to obtain the skills needed to become

employed is considered abnormal and demands government action to improve the population.

Fields of knowledge and the exercise of power are intrinsically tied to each other and this ultimate

relationship was designated ‘power/knowledge’ by Foucault (Oksala 2007, p.48). In order to ‘conduct

the conduct’ of the population (Foucault 2007, p.389), government officials and agencies need to

gather information about the population’s behaviours and motivations, the aim being to promote

individual improvement, which leads to national prosperity. This Foucauldian power/knowledge is

common and unremarkable. Information about Australian training comes from the vast amount of

numerical data collected in response to the Australian Vocational Education and Training Management

Information Statistical Standard (AVETMISS), auditing of registered training organisations for

compliance with national standards and the promulgation of quality frameworks, which are used to

protect the integrity of the qualifications issued by individual providers. Registration and licensing,

another exercise of power, are also widely used by governments to exert control over the providers of

training, individual entry and ongoing participation in many occupations and to address issues of

safety, such as working with children or worksite conduct (Queensland Department of Education and

Training 2011).

‘These are humble modalities, minor procedures, as compared with the majestic rituals of sovereignty

or the great apparatuses of the state’ (Foucault 1979, p.170). Power/knowledge is built upon

hierarchical observation of the population. Those who undertake formal training in Australia are made

visible and subject to this power through simple things such as filling out an enrolment form, having

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their attendance recorded in roll books, providing evidence of prior learning, participating in student

outcomes surveys and having the achievement of competencies chronicled. The banal ordinariness of

these techniques provides the basis for the success of Foucault’s conception of disciplinary power and

each contributes to making the individual citizen more transparent.

This conception of power is not incompatible with democracy because it is built on a ‘responsibilised’

citizen making appropriate choices for a lifetime of personal improvement in support of the

aspirations of the state to improve socioeconomic prosperity by having all working-aged Australians

participate effectively in the labour market (Council of Australian Governments 2012, p.5). According

to Foucault, this power/knowledge is productive. It is not operationalised through repression, but

produced ‘through cultural normative practices and scientific discourses, the ways in which we

experience and conceive’ (Oksala 2007, p.71) of ourselves as citizens, as workers and as consumers

(Miller & Rose 2008). As described by noted historian, Keith Hancock, Australian individualism was

expressed in a distinctive and peculiar manner because of the reliance upon the state; ‘which was

seen by Australians, in Hancock’s memorable phrase, as a ‘vast public utility’ for the satisfaction of

needs’ (Manne & Feik 2012, p.2). Butlin, Barnard and Pincus support this view when they

comprehensively describe the role of Australian governments, when compared with other Western

countries, in the major fields of social and economic endeavour that came about ‘because of the

prominence of governments throughout virtually the whole of Australian history in all decision-making

processes’(1982, p.4, emphasis in original). They include vocational education as an area where

governments have been active (Butlin, Barnard & Pincus 1982, pp.102—3). In describing the history of

adult education in Australia, Whitelock (1974, p.300) concludes, ‘In general, adult education in

Australia was the creation of public authorities rather than private initiative’. In order to make good

decisions, governments require information about the population to amass power/knowledge. This fits

comfortably with the transparency agenda.

Transparency Interview question: ‘What do you understand to be the meaning of transparency’?

Former Northern Territory Commissioner for Public Employment, David Hawkes, replied (with a

hearty laugh): ‘It means what you want it to mean — the actions of government should be open

for informed discussion and debate’.

Vocational education and training has been included in demands for more public openness. From the

Prime Minister’s office downwards (Gillard 2012), virtually every recent policy document, media

release or speech endorses greater transparency in formal training as something that will be good for

the country. Joining the Prime Minister, state premiers and territory chief ministers have signed a

national agreement that commits all Australian governments to delivering a ‘more transparent VET

sector which enables better understanding of the VET activity that is occurring in each jurisdiction’

(Council of Australian Governments 2012, p.5). A new arrival to the study of VET policy might

conclude that, given its prominence, the pervasive presence of transparency has a long association

with training. As the following discourse analysis will demonstrate, the commencement of the

transparency trip can be accurately determined and linked to the information needs of a developing

national system of training.

The early landmark national reports into training, including the seminal Kangan Report (Australian

Committee on Technical and Further Education 1974), Australia reconstructed (Department of Trade,

Australian Council of Trade Unions [ACTU] and Trade Development Council [TDC] 1987) and the

ministerial statements of the prolific Commonwealth Government minister, John Dawkins (1988a,


1988b, 1989), do not mention the word. Transparency’s journey into training accompanied the

establishment of the Australian National Training Authority (ANTA) a mere two decades ago. This new

body mirrored the 1974 Kangan review when it complained bitterly about the paucity and poor quality

of national training data and the consequent adverse impact upon those crucial government activities,

planning and resource allocation (Australian National Training Authority 1994, p.33; 1996, p.76). The

absence of reliable information about training was perceived as a major problem to be solved by

government and remains a major priority, as indicated by the plans for reporting total training

activity and the introduction of the unique student identifier (Council of Australian Governments

2012). Insufficient statistics allowing for comparison between jurisdictions and computation of

national indicators caused the system to be represented as opaque from its inception. Little has been

done to counter this view and it currently remains alive and well.

One of the first official references to transparency as a solution to this opacity came in a 1994

assessment of the progress of training reform. This review was carried out by private management

consultants on behalf of the Australian National Training Authority. It was noted that successful

training reform ‘will require significantly improved financial management and reporting if

transparency is to be achieved’ (Allen Consulting Group 1994, p.5). The evaluation recommended the

development and use of management principles based upon ‘transparent accountability for results to

Parliaments, responsible Ministers, clients and taxpayers by ANTA and each implementing authority

and agency’ (Allen Consulting Group 1994, p.23).

The Australian National Training Authority was guided by ‘a five person board drawn from industry to

ensure that the Authority remains focused upon the needs of industry’ (Australian National Training

Authority 1995a, p.4) and relied heavily upon private business consultants to produce the reports and

evaluations that would guide the development of the national training system. This is not surprising

given that the authority’s board and committee structure was dominated by industry, unions and

government. In the 1995 description of the rationales behind the allocation of financial resources to

the state jurisdictions, it was declared ‘one of ANTA’s priorities is to achieve transparency across

state and territory quality arrangements in the VET sector’ (Australian National Training Authority

1995b, p.21). The new training system now had finances, quality mechanisms and reporting systems

officially joined to the transparency agenda.

By the following year, transparency was to assume an even more prominent place in VET policy

agendas. In order to plan for the next triennium, the nine governments that were party to the

Australian National Training Authority Agreement decided to review the progress made over the

preceding three years. The landmark Report of the Review of the ANTA Agreement (Australian

National Training Authority 1996) was conducted by a committee chaired by Mr Rae Taylor. He was

eminently qualified to lead the analysis, given his experience as a senior Commonwealth Government

bureaucrat, Managing Director of Australia Post, shipping company director and expert on national

transport and logistics matters. Each of these roles gave him insight into the battles for control and

financial considerations that often characterise the intergovernmental relationships arising from the

federalist nature of the Australian Constitution and which are a permanent feature of VET.

Taylor’s report positioned greater transparency as part of the solution to virtually every issue facing

the Australian National Training Authority and its mission to create a national system of training. The

review put forward transparency as an answer to the complexity of the system, accountability for

public funds, competition between public and private registered training organisations, the policy

implications for state and territory funding decisions, regulation, quality assurance, academic

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accreditation, funding of community service obligations and the scope of VET services. In his considered

view, ‘the entire system lacks transparency’ (Australian National Training Authority 1996, p.132).

Transparency in vocational education and training is one of the Australian National Training

Authority’s legacies to the sector because the concept did not come from the governments of the day.

The legislation that created and controlled the Australian National Training Authority did not use the

word (Department of the Parliamentary Library 1994). Likewise, many prominent training experts

occupying key positions in the relevant government agencies in the early and mid-1990s did not

propose a case for transparency. For example, a major national commemoration and symposium was

held in 1994 to mark the impact of the Kangan Report after two decades. The published proceedings

of those events were opened by a letter from Prime Minister Keating and the commemorative address

was delivered by the Commonwealth Government minister, Ross Free (Kearns & Hall 1994). The

symposium presenters included many of the most influential individuals in VET policy at the time and

they variously addressed the original Kangan Report, its legacy and the future directions of the sector.

Not a single mention of transparency was reported from the events that celebrated the continued

influence of the Kangan Report upon the development of the national training system. The

transparency agenda is a creation of the Australian National Training Authority’s business and

commercial orientation and would be used to monitor the use of public funds by the state training

systems as well as to gather information about the population.

In addition to contemporary political speeches, government policy documents, media releases and

Council of Australian Government agreements, the discourse of transparency has become prominent in

other organisations that influence VET policy. For the former Skills Australia, benefits will accrue

from greater transparency in relation to published indicators of training quality, achievement profiles

of individual registered training organisations and more public availability of VET system data

(Australian Workforce and Productivity Agency 2013, p.137). The Productivity Commission (2011b,

pp.70—1) also cites a number of advantages deriving from a more transparent VET system such as

increased autonomy in funding and governance for public registered training organisations, the

publication of quality and audit results by VET regulators and improved indicators for community

service obligations.

In fewer than 20 years transparency has come from nowhere to now occupy a central position in the

VET policy environments of governments. Not only have many of the problems identified in Taylor’s

review been rendered capable of solution through increased transparency, but, like training itself,

transparency has assumed an aura of unquestionable good (Agere 2000, p.41; Australian Public Service

Commission 2005, p.5). But what is this thing that has migrated into vocational education and training

and how is it represented and used?

Transparency defined

The dictionary definition of transparency has expanded over the years. Early twentieth-century usage

was limited to ‘that is transparent which does not even obscure sight of what is behind it’ (A

dictionary of modern English usage 1968). In Australia in the new millennium, to be transparent is to

be ‘open, frank or candid, easily seen through or understood, manifest or obvious’ (The Macquarie

Dictionary 2001). The things that serve as barriers to openness and understanding must be made to

appear absent in order to deal with the problems facing VET.

While it is not all that unusual for the meaning of words to evolve over time, the change of emphasis

regarding transparency, from being something that can be seen through to one of understanding

through increased observation, allowed for its appropriation into the language of new public


management. This movement towards more market-based and corporate styles of governance in

Western democracies is generally attributed to policy directions determined in the United Kingdom

under Prime Minister Thatcher and the United States by President Reagan in the 1980s (Hill & Hupe

2002, p.110).

New public management relies heavily upon contracting government services to third parties and

introducing highly specialised reporting and accountability mechanisms — transparency — in the name

of safeguarding public monies. This allows for the responsibility for implementation to be contracted

away from governments and, with that, liability for mistakes, inefficiency or unintended

consequences. The Northern Territory Government was able to easily adopt new public management

because it was simultaneously creating the machinery of government during this time period. The

possibility of establishing a government-owned and operated VET system in the Northern Territory was

never seriously considered, since the contracting-out of VET provision to arm’s length public providers

and the private sector readily aligned with new public management principles.

Monitoring this style of public expenditure and its impacts from a distance is achieved through

transparency. But this ‘outsourcing’ often comes with a loss of the democratic norms embodied in

constitutional and administrative law (Rosenblum, D & Piotrowski 2010, p.38). The ‘shift towards

using third parties to provide services and support activities’ by the Commonwealth Government has

caused the Auditor-General to raise ‘questions about transparency and accountability for some

aspects of process as well as results’ (Australian Public Service Commission 2003, p.167).

In Australia, new public management was one part of the broader bipartisan ‘economic rationalism’

agenda of the 1980s (Pusey 1991, p.3). Proposals to apply market-based approaches, guided by human

capital theory, to service delivery by Australian governments opened the possibility for individuals and

organisations to become responsibilised choice makers (Marginson 1997, p.111). In addition to funding

private sector contractors to competitively deliver goods and services, governments increasingly used

principal-agent relationships to guide funding for the activities of not-for-profit organisations, as

opposed to direct operating grants, which further spread transparency as a desirable characteristic.

‘The public management agenda of strategic goal setting, more efficient management and improved

accountability, transparency, budgeting and financial oversight was a cultural revolution for

organisations structured as charities’ (Colebatch 2006, p.48).

In describing the impact of this new style of ‘openness’ upon the Australian Public Service,

Verspaandook (2000, p.5) notes that: ‘These changes have been intended to provide citizens with

more information about government decision-making’. Transparency would be implemented through

mechanisms such as freedom of information and privacy legislation, charters for customer service and

budget honesty, the Ombudsman’s office and the purchasing advisory and complaints service

(Verspaandook 2000, p.23). In this context, transparency is a disciplinary technique — a calling to

account — that can cast light on centres of power that might otherwise be out of sight (Garsten &

Lindh de Montoya 2008). The actions of Australian governments, including their outsourced services,

were the original target of transparency. A more dour description of the benefits of transparency was

made by the eighteenth-century English philosopher, Jeremy Bentham, when he proposed: ‘Officials

are responsible to the people; they are answerable to them. The people should be able to trace the

cause of their suffering’ (Rosenblum, N 1978, p.146).

The unique features of Australian federalism lend themselves to policy built upon the new public

management principles, as demonstrated by the contractual arrangements described below. While the

detailed VET funding mechanisms have varied from direct grants, the Australian National Training

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Authority Agreements and the current Council of Australian Governments Partnership Agreements, the

underlying process remains the same. The Commonwealth Government buys its way into state-level

responsibility for VET policy through a contract with the relevant state or territory training authorities

who, in turn, repeat the contracting process to purchase specified types and levels of training from

the training providers registered to do business within their jurisdiction.

This new public management-style requirement for the Northern Territory to sign a VET contractual

agreement with the Commonwealth Government was first proposed in 1987. The Secretary of the

Northern Territory Education Department prepared a briefing memo for the Education Minister on the

implications for the local jurisdiction contained in the Commonwealth Budget Statement Number 9 —

Skills for Australia. The major changes to previous relationships between the two governments would

be implemented in 1988 and included:

There would be no further untied per capita grants.

All funding would be allocated on the basis of funding submissions to the Commonwealth.

A resource agreement between the two governments would need to be signed.

All Commonwealth funding would be tied to achieving national priorities.

Northern Territory funding would also need to demonstrate links to national priorities.

The Commonwealth Government threatened to withdraw funding to the Northern Territory Government

and give it directly to industry if Northern Territory providers were considered to be unresponsive to

the national priorities (Northern Territory Archives Service I June 1987 — 26 October 1987).

Another section of the briefing memo referred to higher education and described the change in

government style that was taking place. ‘The same emphasis as with TAFE is that funding is now in

the hands of the bureaucrats and the more generalist public service style of operations will apply.

Arguments of academic freedom, need and necessity will lose to accountability and productivity’

(Northern Territory Archives Service I June 1987 — 26 October 1987, folio 123, emphasis in original).

Transparency has been adopted as part of the language of the new public management because its

meaning has been re-purposed in pursuit of the openness and understanding associated with mundane

tasks of audit and reporting (Rose 1999b, p.154). The preferred format for transparency in vocational

education and training is information and data amenable to accounting and auditing because this allows

both for the potential replicability of the programs that work and national consistency (Banks 2009,

p.14; Productivity Commission 2011b, p.12). Transparency is the public policy centrepiece that has

redefined the operations of government-funded organisations. They are required to behave in ways

that are compatible with free markets and demonstrate the levels of openness deemed conducive to

the exercise of democracy by an informed citizenship (Miller & Rose 2008, p.215). Transparency

supports the operation of advanced market democracies. As part of a narrative of a better world order,

transparency has come to be associated with good governance, citizen rights, ethical behaviour,

normal behaviour, high standards and efficiency (Garsten & Lindh de Montoya 2008).

Transparency’s centrality in educational public policy does not apply only to vocational education and

training. The Review of Australian Higher Education makes repeated calls for transparency in funding

processes, target setting, student identification, student income support, reports of student

experiences, standards, quality processes, provider accreditation and funding accountability for

universities (Bradley et al. 2008). The opening sentence of the Review of Funding for Schooling —

Final Report (Gonski et al. 2011) explains that the purpose of their analysis is ‘to develop a funding


system that is transparent, fair and financially sustainable’. The word transparent appears almost 90

more times in the report, giving some indication of its importance to the authors.

The discourse of transparency

One of the singular experiences of the post-modern age has been the colonisation of language by

dominant discourses (Rose 1999a, p.42). This leads to the conquered language being commonly used

by bureaucrats and the media without careful and informed understanding of its origin and impacts:

The point is that an entire philosophy — often neoliberal economics — is itself imported when such

language is used, which defines certain actions and behaviours and this established the logic of

practice that generated them in individuals’ subsequent activities — a kind of epistemological

Trojan Horse. (Grenfell 2007, p.232)

Certainly, from its unproblematic appearance in a few Australian National Training Authority

documents in the mid-1990s, transparency has grown in a manner that is consistent with Foucauldian

productivity. The knowledge of the population gained from this pursuit of transparency is contributing

to the power held by governments. The development of a transparent VET system is heavily

influenced by a ‘performative process’ that defines the issues facing any organisation (Power 2003,

p.12). The specification of what contributes to transparency ‘can kick-start practices’ both inside and

outside the immediate environment (Power 2003, p.9, emphasis in original). The alleged opacity of

the VET system has been ‘problematised’ through a highly specialised bureaucratic and political

exercise (Bacchi 2009), which makes the collection of data and publication of yet more information

through improved timelines for data sharing and reporting, the implementation of the unique student

identifier mechanism and transcript service and the improvement of consumer information on quality,

prices, government subsidies and labour market information (Council of Australian Governments 2012,

pp.20—2) the inevitable solution.

This focus on ‘data collection as constitutive and performative process’ (Power 2003, p.12) will

determine the future development and conceptualisation of what is possible in vocational education

and training. Defining the issues of transparency so that they can be resolved by more data and

information determines the priorities of state and territory governments and guides the development

of the training system. For example, the Northern Territory Government has identified 14 ‘skills

reforms’ (Department of Business 2013), in addition to proposed national changes to provider

regulation by the Commonwealth, as part of the national VET agreement. Only one (a VET workforce

development strategy) could possibly be construed to have some direct impact upon the process of

skills transfer and assessment. Each of the others contributes to transparency in the system.

One likely outcome, in the face of public budgetary constraints, is that the provision of nationally

consistent data will drive investment decisions towards the acquisition and continuous upgrading of

computers and information software in preference to developing training facilities and skills transfer

mechanisms. In order to keep Commonwealth monies flowing, the main aim of the system shifts from

skills acquisition and technical competence to doing things ‘transparently’ — now defined quite

narrowly as nationally compliant data collection and selective publication in centrally mandated

formats that have been endorsed by governments and described by the payment schedule in the

National Partnership Agreement on Skills Reform (Council of Australian Governments 2012, p.12).

For governments, many of the problems with vocational education and training are characterised as a

lack of information. But this should not be a surprise, as defining and gathering information is the

stock in trade of government bureaucracies (Hacking 1991, pp.183—4). The accumulation and

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tabulation of data about those things problematised by governments is what makes the conduct of the

population’s conduct possible (Miller & Rose 2008, p.65). This is not a peculiar characteristic of either

the left or right of politics. Those who plan programs to improve society, having identified and

represented the problem, need to make society ‘legible’ in order to guide implementation (Scott

1998). The willingness to ‘governmentalise’, as opposed to privatise or corporatise, many societal

functions leads to a generally well-intentioned but seemingly inevitable inability to successfully

implement the mass programs designed by technical experts to correct perceived deficiencies in the

population (Scott 1998; Sirolli 1999).

Addressing programmatic failure inevitably demands even more information. When a state’s objective

is to change the daily habits or work performance of its citizens, ignorance is absolutely disabling for

the techno-rational experts of state:

A thoroughly legible society eliminates local monopolies of information and creates a kind of

national transparency through the uniformity of codes, identities, statistics, regulations and

measures. At the same time it is likely to create positional advantages for those at the apex who

have the knowledge and access to easily decipher the new state-created format. (Scott 1998)

Governments have appropriated the economically rational term ‘transparency’ to describe their need

for power/knowledge about the nation’s residents and which can be generated from the technology of

VET. This ‘busnocratic’ word brings with it unstated and increasingly uncontested implications that

emphasise information and its retrieval over understanding (Marshall 1995, pp.191—2).

The restless nature of transparency has also been deployed to increase the power/knowledge of

governments with a desire to improve their populations and is evident in areas well beyond Australian

VET. The capacity to make visible has determined how the Congolese must behave in order to survive

in Tanzanian refugee camps (Ballestero 2012, p.162), how foreign aid is distributed in Indian

agricultural projects (Mosse 2005, pp.226—9) and how to overcome the racial conflicts that were

associated with mass migration programs in Indonesia (Li 2007, pp.79—80). Each of these examples

demonstrates how an uncritical adoption of the transparency sub-logic can ignore the local historical

and customary relationships that have mediated social functioning for many generations and

contributed to the failure of the transparent plans for improvement.

Information for markets

The application of the new public management’s language of capitalist, free-market economic

development has made incontestable the need for certain styles of information from the VET system.

While this power/knowledge can be used to control the population, it also serves another fundamental

capitalistic purpose. The neoclassical theory of economics proposes that all of the field can be

reduced to one simple lesson stated in a single sentence. ‘The art of economics consists of looking not

merely at the immediate but at the longer effects of any act or policy; it consists in tracing the

consequences of the policy not merely for one group but for all groups’ (Hazlitt 1979, p.17).

In order to operate most efficiently, capitalist markets must have access to as much information as

possible, on both a wide range of policies and the characteristics of the population (Hazlitt 1979,

pp.17—19; Loasby 2005, p.60). The national training system contributes to this information flow, in

pursuit of the perfect VET market, by the provision of data in economically useful formats. The use of

government subsidies for initial qualifications, requiring all training providers to report their training

activity in nationally consistent formats, and the provision of income-contingent loans for higher-level

qualifications each encourages individuals to enrol in the VET system and become visible to


government through the unique student identifier. This is a project without an apparent end point, as

there can never be too much information available to the market. The call for transparency is a

demand to make available the information contained in the training system in support of Australia’s

advanced market democracy.

Contesting transparency

Different types of reasoning provide seemingly insoluble discrepancies between concepts (Hacking

2006). In his detailed account of the development and use of statistics Ian Hacking (2006, p.xxii)

points out a seldom-recognised consideration that demonstrates the comfortable acceptance of

quantification. For example, in the medical field, so-called evidence-based medicine is built upon

frequencies and randomised trials, while clinical medicine relies upon coherent degrees of belief. He

believes that neither has a logical or philosophical superiority, but evidenced-based approaches will

come to dominate because of economics. Quite simply, it is less expensive ‘to base medicine on large-

scale statistical regularities than to attend to the clinical details of each case’ (Hacking 2006, p.xxii).

Similarly for vocational education and training, national statistics, produced in the name of

transparency, have served to mask the ‘local knowledge’ of the nearly 5000 registered training

organisations that operate across the entire country. For example, the national data collection is not

capable of capturing realistic constraints upon the delivery of training to the traditional Indigenous

communities of Northern Australia in the May—September period as a result of cultural obligations ‘on

country’ or the impossibility of training young Indigenous men in Central Australia during November

and December due to initiation ceremonies. While the policy rhetoric might be about having a training

system that is flexible and responsive to industry’s needs (Australian Workforce and Productivity

Agency 2013), there are local circumstances that will take precedence and remain hidden from the

current data collection. In fact, recent proposals for increased regulation of entry into the training

sector include provisions to dramatically reduce the number of providers — their knowledge and

experience is not valued in the quest for national consistency, their capacity to furnish data and their

ability to comply with national standards as monitored by the national regulator (National Skills

Standards Council 2013a, p.46).

One of the pitfalls of relying too heavily upon statistics is that it is impossible to predict the future

based upon past events because, at best, the future is unknown (Hacking 2006, p.181). The concepts

that get used by governments are based upon what we think will probably happen (beliefs) and what

we want to happen (values). The interaction of these two provides the stage for contestation. Any

long-term commitment to action requires the assumption of knowledge of the future that no one

could possibly possess (Loasby 2007, p.1755). The concept of transparency is clearly contested in a

philosophical sense because it is based upon information about what has already happened in the VET

system, in order to plan and react to the future — a rational but nevertheless impossible task.

A concept such as transparency is a suggestion about how things should proceed from the present

situation (Bacchi 2011, p.31, citing Tanesini). But transparency actually means various things to the

many different parties who seek control of the VET discourse. Because it has multiple abstract and

qualitative meanings, transparency can be considered to be a contested concept. Contested concepts

are devoid of fixed meaning, but are used as if they have significant importance. Their study allows

for the politics and relationships that give such a concept meaning to become the focus of analysis

(Bacchi 2011, p.31).

The contested concept can ‘take on a signifying function by being related to an object and serving as

a permanent sign for it’ without assuming any intrinsic value itself (Miller 1987, p.173). Transparency

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has come to signify the production and calculation of information used by governments to measure

the population. It has no value on its own, but what it represents is important to governments and

markets. The control over the narrative of transparency becomes contested in both political and

economic arenas. This dispute has even allowed the word to be redefined from something that can be

seen through to a process of complete visibility.

The capacity of transparency to be a contested concept without any intrinsic value makes it a

‘boundary object’, one that allows for those who live in different social spheres, each with their own

codes, habits and ways of making sense, to use this object as a means to facilitate communication

(Mol 2002, p.138). Transparency allows people, who are enacting vocational education and training

from different perspectives and roles, for example, ministers, administrators or lecturers, to

communicate and develop relationships in order to provide VET for a population in order to improve

the socioeconomic prospects of the nation through the use of standard measures, set standards and

common timelines (National Skills Standards Council 2013a). Transparency’s obvious attractiveness to

policy-makers and bureaucrats arises because it is a boundary object. This word is so adaptable that it

becomes difficult to argue against it.

Multiple transparencies

This adaptability gives rise to multiple understandings, and consequent uses, of transparency. These

can include ‘visibility, openness and communication’, ‘a nexus of associated neoliberal ideas’, ‘tool of

experts’, ‘a relational thing’, ‘disciplinary’, ‘enabling’, ‘deeply ideological’ or ‘related to the hidden

and necessary secrets’ (Garsten & Lindh de Montoya 2008).

The capacity of transparency to be a contested concept while serving as a boundary object was

further confirmed in my interviews. The question concerning transparency was noteworthy due to the

response it elicited from those being interviewed. The reaction was both intellectual and physical.

When asked what they understood by the common use of the word transparency, they sat upright,

most smiled — beamed might be more accurate — and relaxed their guarded consideration of the

questioning. This was territory in which they were clearly comfortable.

A range of views on the uses and benefits of transparency came from the now energised interviewees.

For most, it is the method used to hold governments to account for the provision of effective and

efficient services. Many also mentioned that transparency provides clarity regarding funding

allocations to VET organisations. Former senior training bureaucrat and expert, Peter Noonan, was

quite explicit and forthright in his views that a ‘lack of transparency’ about both historical funding

patterns and the outcomes at individual training provider level produced a ‘conspiracy against the

public interest’.

Robin Shreeve, the Chief Executive Officer of Skills Australia, believes that transparency increases

quality in the VET system. This improvement comes about because more timely and accurate

information can be used to support a market for training. Users of the system make more informed

choices based upon the past performance of individual registered training organisations. According to

Shreeve, employer and student choice that has been informed by an abundance of relevant

information influences the behaviour of registered training organisations and drives improved quality

and responsiveness to the requirements of industry. In alignment with the single-sentence economics

lesson, Shreeve also believes that transparency is important because it allows for consideration of

‘who wins and who loses’ during periods of policy change. The theme of winners and losers was also

taken up by former training leader and commentator, Kaye Schofield. She proposes that transparency


provides checking mechanisms to ensure that VET policy decisions were ‘real’, rather than secret

deals being done between political allies.

The continuing calls for more transparency, if not interrogated fully, may result in unintended

consequences or may not always be a good thing. On its own transparency does not ensure the most

efficient economic outcomes. There are numerous examples from international trade policy

demonstrating the ability to implement bad policy, even if it is done in a transparent manner, because

decisions are made without due regard to a whole-of-economy view (Stoeckel & Fisher 2008, p.xi).

Projects aimed at the improvement of target populations’ lives can also founder because the mode of

making both the population and programs transparent is too simplistic and leaves out important

factors (Li 2007, pp.281—3). For transparency to be effective in supporting the operations of advanced

market democracies, those who are the intended recipients must have ‘receptors for processing,

digesting and using information’; otherwise a transparency agenda, on its own, is irrelevant (Heald

2006b, p.35). The real value develops from working out the balance between sunlight’s benefits and

the hazards of overexposure (Heald 2006a, p.60).

There has been some resistance of transparency’s movement into VET. The initial opposition to the

groundswell of support for greater transparency in vocational education and training came from an

unexpected source — the most enthusiastic supporters of a more open and competitive market. The

Australian Council for Private Education and Training rebuffed the original Council of Australian

Governments’ proposals to have all registered training organisations provide nationally compliant

information. While believing that ‘markets work best when there is transparency in their operations

and where information is available to support informed choices’, the Australian Council for Private

Education and Training proceeded to cite a number of reasons why its members should not furnish the

same quantity and style of information as required of public providers (Australian Council for Private

Education and Training 2012, p.3).

Their arguments against this particular version of VET transparency included the ‘onerous and costly’

nature of data collection and reporting, the acceptability of using ACPET-sponsored surveying

techniques, NCVER’s supposed lack of understanding of the private sector and the transfer of

increased costs to students. In particular, the Australian Council for Private Education and Training

questions the relevance of the information to the intended receivers. ‘Firstly there is no agreement

yet on the data elements for My Skills and secondly it is unlikely that all of the elements of the

Vocational Education and Training Provider Collection will be useful to students, their parents and

employers in selecting the right registered training organisation for their needs’ (Australian Council

for Private Education and Training 2012, p.5). While the exact elements that might be considered to

be unhelpful are not specified, the Council does have generic concerns about the potential inability to

ensure the ‘accuracy and quality’ of the information supplied to the public (Australian Council for

Private Education and Training 2012, p.6).

Because transparency is a contested concept, the Australian Council for Private Education and

Training chose to argue against the nationally compliant version of transparency. As the

representative of the private market, it might be expected that the Australian Council for Private

Education and Training would argue for greater transparency. However, it ended up cautioning against

over-exposure. It also avoided framing the argument as being against the truth or falsehood of the

transparency agenda. Instead it argues on the basis of relevance (Deleuze 1995, p.130), by making the

case that there are more efficient and effective ways of gathering data, rendering the Council of

Australian Governments’ proposal as unnecessary for the private sector. The Australian Council for

NCVER 147

Private Education and Training’s submission raises the tantalising issue of the capacity of the intended

recipients and beneficiaries (students, parents and employers) of greater transparency to use the data

provided. One wonders if it means they do not have the right receptors (Heald 2006b, p.35), are

intellectually incapable of dealing with the information (cf Bell & Quiggin 2006) or the format of the

information renders it ineffectual?

Who can see what?

The application of transparency to VET demonstrates a ‘nexus of associated ideas’ promoting a

central role for economically rational individual choice-makers, who self-regulate in a society that

relies upon methods of audit and calculation (Garsten & Lindh de Montoya 2008, p.6). The process of

rendering a thing or system transparent relies upon information that is made legible by the use of very

careful designs of specialist experts (Scott 1998). It also mediates the connections and transactions

between individuals and the state because ‘it involves a specific relationship between the one who is

seeing and the one who is being seen’ (Garsten & Lindh de Montoya 2008, p.6). Transparency bears a

close relation to power (Foucault 1979, p.200) and its linkage to agendas of governance, democracy

and quality makes it ‘an entry point’ into our understanding of our society, culture and associated

power games (Garsten & Lindh de Montoya 2008, p.2).

The proliferating mechanisms associated with achieving transparency, such as the unique student

identifier and national data standards, are built upon and made operational through a non-

transparent, expert knowledge base, which is frequently presented in the form of supposedly neutral

numbers and statistics (Bowker & Star 1999; Garsten & Lindh de Montoya 2008). The management of

the information held by NCVER is governed by a set of protocols that balance personal and training

provider privacy against maximum public access in the name of transparency. The value of the

transparency represented by this data lies in timely and accurate access by various stakeholders

(NCVER 2013, p.1).

The esoteric languages, distinctive values and specialised knowledge associated with these particular

technologies cannot be made fully transparent to everyone and, as a result, undermine ‘the trust that

is necessary for an expert system to function effectively’ (Tsoukas 1997, p.835). In rejecting a role for

NCVER in implementing a survey of private sector training activity, the Australian Council for Private

Education and Training mobilises this cynical view of expertise:

ACPET does not consider that the NCVER has demonstrated it understands the private sector or its

obligations as a government owned statistical collection agency sufficiently well. For the NCVER

to be in any way involved in survey design and administration would require a substantial change

in NCVER Board membership and substantial changes to its corporate governance and internal

administration — to ensure the sector could have greater confidence in its operations.

(Australian Council for Private Education and Training 2012, p.4)

For ACPET to accept the validity of NCVER as the promulgator of transparency, it demands

involvement in the determination of expertise and what counts as valid knowledge, in order to

construct the systems that make this statistical version of transparency functional. The information

that is chosen to describe a particular world reflects the purposes and intentions of the creators

(Tsoukas 1997, p.830). The choice and deployment of the specialist language is more than

representative, it also helps construct the system. ACPET was staking a claim to exert greater control

over the VET discourse and its productive capacity.


The current language of NCVER signposts its most important function — operating the expert and

reductionist information systems that partially describe, measure and report upon vocational

education and training (NCVER 2011). This centre’s statistical expertise and specialist language are

the starting point from which VET is made transparent to the economic considerations of

governments. In keeping alive the mantra of a lack of VET information that arose from the Kangan

Report and Australian National Training Authority, NCVER makes consistent representations for

evermore data to be collected and turned into information through its processes (Karmel 2011;

Shergold 2010). ‘One of the most heartening developments in recent years — from a statistician or

analysts [sic] point of view at least — is the promotion of the transparency agenda’ (Karmel 2013, p.9,

emphasis in original).

Similarly, the Australian Workforce and Productivity Agency’s (2013, p.87) recommendation for a

regular ‘national sample survey for the assessment of literacy and numeracy levels of the adult

population’ demonstrates this insatiable desire for more information. Because transparency can mean

so many different things, its pivotal role in the governance of advanced market democracies ‘ensures

that there is no obvious end to the call for more transparency’ (Garsten & Lindh de Montoya 2008,

p.7). The Commonwealth Government’s major skills advisory body agrees: ‘we continue to stress the

need for transparency of information in VET’ (Australian Workforce and Productivity Agency 2013,

p.137). Ironically, the National Workforce Development Fund, which is administered by the Australian

Workforce and Productivity Agency, is considered to exhibit a ‘lack of transparency’ that adds ‘to the

confusion’ over the national training system’s operations (Dodd 2013).

While it is doubtful that the current round of skills reform will achieve perfect transparency, VET is

becoming more visible to those with an economic frame of reference. The statistics on the My Skills

website will give no indication of the climatic conditions and related access issues in remote areas of

the Northern Territory, cultural differences, English language skills of students, accessibility of

internet services or the training facilities in each community — all of which impact upon training

delivery and learning. Even though transparency implies visibility and openness, ‘what is easily legible

and transparent for some can be dark and opaque for others’ (Bauman 1998, p.29).

The gathering and usage of statistics to verify a population’s behaviour are mediated through ‘the

transparency of computers’ (Baudrillard 2009, p.55). However, the underlying classification systems

and dualisms (contemporary computer operations are reduced to the binary code of 1 or 0) that

enable computer programs to function ‘are never transparent to everyone’ (Bowker & Star 1999,

p.33). This is a space occupied by experts. Bourdieu and Wacquant (1992, p.28) believe that one

drawback of increased reliance upon technical expertise and its associated specialist knowledge in the

name of transparency is that it inevitably leads to experts seeing fewer and fewer things better and

better, thus missing out on important relationships and features of systems and their underlying

epistemologies. They liken this phenomenon to the drunk searching for lost keys under the streetlamp

because that is where the light is best.

Given that reality can be thought of as multiple (Mol 2002, p.182), the high hopes for the benefits

attributed to transparency will be tempered because ‘although it intends to reveal, it can only

produce situated revelations and will only tell one of many stories’ (Garsten & Lindh de Montoya

2008, p.9). More importantly, there are times when transparency should not be used in advanced

market democracies. The corporate secrets that give an advantage and reward risk taking in the free

market need to be balanced against the availability of full information (Galli 2008). For example, the

formula for Coca-Cola syrup has remained a closely guarded secret for many generations. Personal

information kept by governments is often the subject of privacy legislation and considerations (VET

NCVER 149

National Data Strategy Action Group 2010, pp.10—11). The very practice of modern democracy relies

upon the secret ballot (Montoya 2008, p.261). The Australian Council for Private Education and

Training (2012, p.4) raises the issue of training data ownership and responsibility for its use,

suggesting that private training providers have some sense of commercial value that should limit the

provision of data for publication. In a post-9/11 world, national security considerations are frequently

used to limit transparency of government decisions and actions (Piotrowski 2010, p.25). For example,

the Australian pursuit of transparency in VET has exempted police, defence and customs services from

total reporting on the grounds of national and individual security (Standing Council on Tertiary

Education Skills and Employment 2013, p.2).

In addition, the transparency agenda comfortably finds a home in the ordinariness of vocational

education and training. This type of surveillance, leading to power/knowledge, is permanent in its

impact and creates a system where ‘the perfection of power should tend to render its actual exercise

unnecessary’ because it induces ‘a state of conscious and permanent visibility that ensures the

automatic functioning of power’ (Foucault 1979, p.201).

The impact of the transparency can also have the opposite effect of what is intended — it can make

things invisible. One very cynical view is that transparency has replaced the word ‘propaganda’ for

government and corporate purposes and that things that are transparent to lobbyists and ministerial

advisors are purposely made translucent to everyone else (Burton 2007, p.4). Individuals can even

rebel against the constraining rules of modern society by ‘ceaselessly recreating opacities and

ambiguities — spaces of darkness and trickery — in the universe of technocratic transparency’

(de Certeau 1984, p.18).

Invisibility

The doppelganger of transparency is invisibility — referring to what cannot be seen. Every project

designed to allegedly increase transparency has the immediate and unavoidable consequence of

making some things disappear from sight (Garsten & Lindh de Montoya 2008; Scott 1998). In exploring

how VET exerts its power, reference to transparency inevitably invites examination of invisibility, as

demonstrated in the following analysis.

Not everything can be seen

People or phenomena can be made invisible in three ways. Firstly, it may be a purposeful activity. In

the creation of the national training system adult educators disappeared because VET employed

assessors, lecturers and teachers. Adult education was subsumed into vocational education and

training, so there was no need for this classification of people, even though the very same individuals

were still delivering similar training to adults.

Secondly, invisibility can arise because something is too small or hard to perceive to be noticed, or,

thirdly, the object of interest could be so large and pervasive that it escapes attention (Bowker &

Star 1999, p.33). For example, the local cross-cultural training knowledge held by a single small

registered training organisation operating in remote Northern Territory Indigenous communities, in

spite of being highly effective in skills transfer to people with English as a second language, is not

capable of being officially ‘seen’ by the national data collection, with its focus upon enrolment

numbers, module completions and demographic data. While the success or failure of the training

provider depends upon this cultural knowledge and its application, it is too hard to measure and

collect. For national transparency this is microscopic, impossible to convert to a statistic and


difficult to report upon in a universally consistent format; therefore, it remains officially unseen.

The non-accredited training delivered by a number of providers in the adult and community

education sector, likewise, remains unsighted.

Invisibility most often happens in the VET system because of the third reason. The common sense of

VET, its widespread application in solving problems and its sheer mundanity allow for certain

processes, actors or structures to disappear from sight and serious consideration. This includes how

VET exercises power over the population. The reductionist gathering of statistics, the techniques of

standard setting, accounting and auditing applied to these data and the econometric calculations used

to interpret that information, while not purposely hiding, become invisible because they are relegated

to mere technical detail. ‘The problem is that its very banality tends to deaden our critical faculties’

(Law 2002, p.152).

Invisibility is not necessarily a bad thing. It has been proposed that a certain amount of invisibility

serves an important transactional function. For example, the maintenance of monopoly positions by

surgeons, plumbers and electricians on the basis of their training can instil public confidence in these

specialist groups, even though the training and licensing processes involved are not on open display

(Goffman 1990, p.55). In addition, social identity can be formed through the use of opaque and self-

referential surveys and polling (de Certeau 1984, p.189). The Australian Council for Private Education

and Training’s objection to supplying nationally compliant data as part of the VET transparency

project is based upon the desire to maintain a very separate identity from that of public providers of

training. Their proposed use of internal private surveys of selected members would not only be

invisible to the national data collection but also serve to create a private sector identity based upon a

single study that positioned private providers ‘as being particularly responsive to industry needs’, with

the clear implication that this represents some sort of special feature of these training organisations

(Australian Council for Private Education and Training 2012, p.1).

While there has been limited direct effort to make particular features of the VET system disappear,

such as the Australian National Training Authority and the Australian Vocational Certificate Training

System (Carmichael 1992), invisibility in VET most often occurs because of the sheer size, mundanity

and complexity of the national training system. It is the application of power/knowledge at this

level of the commonplace and everyday that gives rise to a ‘common sense’ about VET that leads

to invisibility.

Put quite simply, the act of making something visible inevitably makes other things illegible (Garsten

& Lindh de Montoya 2008). The Kangan Review’s fashioning of a conception of training that would be

visible to the federal government made the individual student invisible as an altogether unintended

outcome. The Kangan Committee spent considerable time referring to the needs of the individual

learner, but decided to fund state systems of technical and further education rather than each

citizen. The one reference to the possibility of providing individuals with real purchasing power and

influence through the use of vouchers was recommended to be in the form of an ‘experiment in a

rural area and one of the less affluent suburban areas of a major capital city’ (Australian Committee

on Technical and Further Education 1974, p.92). Presumably, the individuals in those locations could

be easily overlooked. The creation of technical and further education, and its successor VET, in the

form of an education sector that governments could problematise, was an activity of the unions,

business and government. The individual was made invisible because, in the establishment of the

national system of training, there was no role for the personal entity. Individuals with appropriate

skills and attitudes to work were considered to be a product of the system (Department of Trade,

Australian Council of Trade Unions & Trade Development Council 1987).

NCVER 151

It is not only those who are in control of the system who determine what’s visible or what remains out

of sight. Individuals, and the organisations they populate, are guided by two socially constructed

systems. The first is the belief system, all the things that are accepted as true, while the second is

the disbelief system, those things that are rejected as false (Rokeach 1960, p.33).

A person’s belief systems can either be open or closed, based upon the ability to manage two

opposing sets of motives: the need to know and the necessity to defend against threat. Consequently,

cognitive dissonance is rife:

People often actively avoid contact with stimuli, people, events, books, etc. that threaten the

validity of their ideology or proselytise for competing ideologies. Cognitive narrowing may be

manifested at both the institutional and non-institutional levels. (Rokeach 1960, p.48)

From the late 1990s the Coalition Government’s consistent and persistent effort to remove union

membership from VET boards, such as the Australian Student Traineeship Foundation and the Enterprise

and Career Education Foundation, as well as from university councils, exemplified this type of cognitive

narrowing. That government was not interested in the views of trade unionists and their long-lived

involvement in tripartite approaches to VET policy. The ability to appoint members of the various

boards and councils determines who gets to attend the multitude of meetings where the VET discourse

is created and practised. While the Howard Government rather inelegantly dumped those who were

considered to be holding inappropriate views, the rather more subtle re-appointment of the more

familiar union, industry and government participants to the national bodies by the Rudd and Gillard

Labor Governments has been just as effective in reasserting centralised control of the VET discourse.

Making invisible

Australia’s national training system stands accused of having too many of its features out of sight. A

major rationale that has been deployed to justify the demand for more transparency in vocational

education and training has arisen out of capitalist economic conceptions of a competitive market and

its requirement for information in order to be more efficient (Skills Australia 2011, pp.84, 98).

However, governments frequently resort to making some parts of the population invisible in ways that

impact upon vocational education and training due to its relationship to social welfare and

employment. Socialisation, medicalisation and penalisation are all mechanisms that have been used

by governments in Western Europe and North America to control that portion of the population

occupying the bottom of the socioeconomic order to limit their threat to the established social

relativities (Wacquant 2009). What follows is a demonstration of the appearance of these same

techniques in Australian considerations of how to best manage the population.

The use of socialisation to make those who live in poverty invisible is a well-established practice in

Australia, with its roots in the ‘workers’ welfare state’ (Castles 1985) and the more recent use of

active social policy (Cooper 2011), which considers poverty to be a by-product of unemployment and

joblessness as a personal choice (Whitfield 1987, p.41). Using socialisation to make certain

problematic groups invisible can be achieved by directing individuals into low-paid jobs (Wacquant

2008, p.26), forcing young people to remain at school longer by raising the legal school leaving age

and removing social benefits (Council of Australian Governments 2009), as well as directing the

jobless into training to remove them from the unemployment rolls (Edwards, Howard & Miller 2001;

Kirby 1985).

Secondly, the economically problematic individual can be made invisible through medicalisation. The

Commonwealth Government has made extensive use of the health system’s provision of a medical


diagnosis to reduce the numbers of people who are recognised as officially unemployed by the

Australian Bureau of Statistics (ABS). Coinciding with the introduction of economically rational

approaches to government and contributing to falling levels of unemployment in Australia, the

number of people on the Disability Support Pension has risen from 229 000 in 1980 to 732 000 in 2008,

with the average duration of payment being slightly over 11 years (ABS 2002; Department of Families,

Housing, Community Services and Indigenous Affairs 2008). All of this occurred at a time when the

total national population only increased by 50%. By 2011, the number of individuals on this pension

and, therefore, officially unavailable to the workforce had grown to 818 850 (Australian Workforce

and Productivity Agency 2013, p.74). These individuals have been made invisible to the labour and

training markets on the basis of medicalisation.

Penalisation is the third method of making people invisible used by Australian governments. State and

territory governments constantly have to prioritise choices between funding training or incarceration

(as well as other policy areas) as part of the Westminster Cabinet process. Over the past decade, the

Northern Territory Government has held its expenditure on VET steady, while increasing spending on

the justice system by almost three times (Zoellner 2012, p.5). As noted in the Report on Government

Services 2011(Productivity Commission 2011a, p.8.40), the increased prisoner population has given

rise to a decrease in the educational services provided to those who were incarcerated in the

Northern Territory.

The harsh and unambiguous reality is that Australian state and territory governments are following in

the footsteps of other advanced market democracies by making the poor invisible through imprisoning

them, rather than socialising them in training programs (Wacquant 2008). The use of incarceration to

control the population has become a popular option for governments due to the political potency

associated with discourses of personal security and public safety. We have already seen how concerns

over security have been invoked to exempt certain providers from the total training reporting

requirements. The use of penal sanctions has also been appropriated into the economic considerations

and calculations of government. Like transparency, it appeals to both the left and the right of politics

and we are witnessing a genuine institutional innovation to manage the economic sub-proletariat

through the novel use of imprisonment (Wacquant 2009).

The Northern Territory presents an extraordinary example of making invisible through penalisation

with its dubious distinction of having the nation’s highest rate of imprisonment (Productivity

Commission 2011a, p.8.6). As part of the Labor Opposition’s strategising and rehearsing for the 2001

election, a pledge to repeal the controversial mandatory sentencing law (introduced by Country

Liberal Party Chief Minister Shane Stone) was identified as a potential vote winner. Mandatory

sentencing removed judicial discretion when penalising repeat adult offenders found guilty of certain

classes of property offences (Northern Territory Office of Crime Prevention 2003, p.2) and was deeply

unpopular with large sections of the community who variously believed that it was racially motivated,

limited the full range of sentencing options available to magistrates and reduced the discretionary

community-policing abilities of officers on the street. The regime was in place from 1996 and

produced a moderate rise in the prison population (Northern Territory Office of Crime Prevention

2003, p.9).

As promised during its campaign, one of Labor’s first actions after winning the 2001 election was to

repeal mandatory sentencing. The prison population at that time stood at about 660 (Productivity

Commission 2002, table 10A.1). By 2010, the prison population had grown to nearly 1100, while the

number of community corrections orders had been reduced by one-third and the rate of imprisonment

had almost doubled in spite of having removed mandatory sentencing (Productivity Commission 2011a,

NCVER 153

table 8A.1). Clearly, penalisation is an attractive policy option for governments in their desire to

manage the population. This has been accomplished by building on a discourse of security, where the

subjugated knowledges associated with ‘social security’ and ‘job security’ have been replaced by a

repurposed ‘security’ coupled to personal safety, controlling anti-social behaviour and vague concerns

about national security (Wacquant 2009). The relationship between the poor and the rest of society,

the observed and the observer, is built upon an exercise of disciplinary power/knowledge that makes

indigents invisible to the public, but simultaneously subject to the gaze of experts and their programs

of improvement.

Implications

While these processes of making invisible are for some purposes useful in the management of the

population, they run counter to the transparency agenda being implemented in vocational education

and training. Even though the original design of the national system of training data collection

purposely excluded the identification of the individual student (Australian Committee on Vocational

Education and Training Statistics 1993, p.70), there is now a continuous demand for more information

to measure the training system (Karmel 2011), to hold training providers accountable (National Skills

Standards Council 2013a) and to plan for the possible scenarios concerning the future shape of the

Australian labour market (Australian Workforce and Productivity Agency 2013).

As described by Foucault (2007, pp.11—12), the rationality of government calls forth a paradoxical

behaviour on the part of the bureaucrats and technical experts who make the systems of state control

function. There is a simultaneous activity of totalisation and individualisation. The totalising of VET

makes the whole population visible as a result of compulsory reporting to the Australian Vocational

Education and Training Management Information Statistical Standard. Individual citizens will have

their consumption of training monitored through the unique student identifier, which also allows for

the identification of citizens who do not conform to social and economic norms. These problematic

persons can be assigned a group identity that demands training as a remedial response on the part of

governments. While it is not currently intended, the production of the transcript of training generated

through the unique student identifier will allow governments to monitor individual usage of training,

to aggregate this data at jurisdiction level and advise training providers on the desired course

offerings believed to be suitable for potential students.

However, this paradox of the whole versus the single causes an organisational dissonance on the part

of government agencies. New public management requires that governments focus upon systems and

procedures rather than directly deliver services at the personal level. Similar to the situation

previously described by Hacking’s comparison of evidence-based medicine as opposed to clinical

experience, individual cases are too messy and difficult to handle:

In Skills for prosperity, we cited the scores of initiatives — at both national and state levels —

directed at preparation for job placement and improved connections between employers and

learners. These initiatives encompass a wide range of activities, policies and programs, yet a

common success factor in recent years has been recognition of the need to look beyond the

development of the individual worker and consider local, organisational and strategic systems.

(Australian Workforce and Productivity Agency 2013, p.63)

This paradoxical behaviour of balancing too much and too little information about the population is a

defining characteristic of governments in advanced market democracies and has resulted in two

perversions of transparency as some sort of warranty concerning the appropriateness of the behaviour


of public organisations (Bennis et al. 2008, p.18). Both the meaning of the word and the intended

target of the logic of transparency have been altered as it has wandered across the government

landscape and helped change the VET sector during its journey.

The word itself has had its meaning reassigned from a layer that can be seen through, as if it is

absent, to now signify complete visibility. More importantly, the various public bodies sanctioned by

government to direct and regulate the VET sector have shifted the target of transparency from

government to private individuals and providers of training. These agents of government do not

behave transparently: by limiting access to minutes of meetings, not providing clarity about how

directors or members are appointed, not describing the length of these appointments and not

discussing their dealings with government ministers and senior bureaucrats.

Conversely, in the discourse of the transparency that has been directed by state, territory and federal

governments, every single private individual who enrols in even one unit of nationally accredited

vocational education and training will be assigned a lifelong unique student identifier, while most

registered training organisations, regardless of whether they receive public funding or not, have

become obliged to report their activities to government. In the near future, it seems likely that an

individual citizen who uses their own after-tax income to purchase training that results in a nationally

recognised qualification from a private licensed training organisation, which has paid the Australian

Skills Quality Authority for the privilege of issuing the minister’s qualification (National Skills

Standards Council 2013b, p.17), will still be obliged to have their details recorded by two levels of

government in the name of transparency.

Transparency has shifted from being a mechanism that makes government answerable to the people

to the reverse. Private individuals and organisations must now make themselves accountable to

government centres of calculation and regulation, which are far from open in their pursuit and

application of information; this is power/knowledge that can be used to control the population. It is

easy to say ‘you believe in transparency without practicing it or even aspiring to it’ (Bennis et al.

2008, p.16). This is a journey that continues. The restless traveller, transparency, not only changes as

a result of its mobility but also alters the systems and individuals with which it comes into contact.

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Building researcher capacity initiative This paper is produced as part of NCVER’s building researcher capacity initiative, which is funded

under the National Vocational Education and Training Research (NVETR) Program. The NVETR

Program is coordinated and managed by NCVER on behalf of the Australian Government and state

and territory governments. Funding is provided through the Department of Industry.

The aims of the building researcher capacity initiative are to attract experienced researchers from

outside the sector, encourage early career researchers and support people in the sector to

undertake research.

The building researcher capacity initiative includes the following programs: NCVER fellowships, PhD

top-up scholarships, postgraduate research papers, and community of practice scholarships for VET

practitioners. These grants are awarded to individuals through a selection process, and are subject

to NCVER’s quality assurance process, including peer review.

National Centre for Vocational Education Research Ltd

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edited: tabatha griffin - bsl catalogue

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