school districts all over Tennessee were grappling with how to successfully desegregate, the University of Tennessee had received a federal grant to create the Educational Opportunity Planning Center to assist districts as they struggled with both practical and cultural issues associated with school desegregation. Dr. Fred Venditti served as director of the center and agreed to offer the center’s assistance with the problems in Chattanooga. Ultimately, the Confederate symbols and fight song were changed, and although the climate remained tense, eventually things returned to order.
I have been blessed by the people who have helped and encouraged me along my life’s journey, and certainly Fred Venditti was one of those people. Fred changed my life trajectory without really realizing the full effect of what he was doing. We got to know each other during his days of meeting with faculty and student groups at Brainerd, and eventually, Fred asked if I had ever considered pursuing a doctoral degree.
With Fred’s encouragement, as well as a rather sizable bank loan, I applied for and was accepted into the doctoral program at the University of Tennessee at Knoxville. Fred’s efforts to ease racial tensions at Brainerd High School had little impact on the school’s culture, but his encouragement and support had a huge impact on me, and I have been forever grateful. Although Fred and I were friends until his death, I did not ask him to chair my doctoral committee. Instead, I turned to Jerry Bellon, the new chair of the Department of Curriculum and Instruction. Little did I realize the positive impact this decision would have on my life, both professionally and personally.
Jerry Bellon and Clinical Supervision
To say that I was unprepared for doctoral study is an understatement. I was confident academically, but I really did not have a clue about the processes and procedures for advanced graduate study at a major university. When Star and I arrived in Knoxville in March for the beginning of the spring quarter of classes, I assumed I should enroll in classes and get underway, which is exactly what I did.
I registered for three or four doctoral-level courses that first quarter. I simply selected courses I thought would be interesting and helpful. Since my background was history, I enrolled in a doctoral history course taught by a visiting professor from Yale University. Given my recent experiences with race relations at Brainerd High School, I was interested in his course in African American history. Only five or six students were enrolled, and in the first class meeting, I was taken aback when the professor assigned six books to read and noted that in each class meeting, we would discuss one of those books. And this was only one class in which I was enrolled! But I quickly adjusted and was able to hold my own in the class discussions and writing assignments.
My most immediate problem was that although I had been accepted into the university’s graduate school, I had not been accepted into a particular program of study. When my friends and fellow students would ask, “What program are you in?” I would respond, “I’m in the doctoral program.” To which they would say, “No, I mean what program of study are you in—administration, curriculum and instruction, or what?” I began to realize I had a big decision to make.
It was logical that I enroll in the administration and supervision program, since Fred Venditti was a prominent faculty member in the department and had been so encouraging to me. Plus, I was on leave from the Chattanooga public school system, where I had most recently served as dean of students. Returning to Chattanooga as a principal after I completed my degree would be a practical course of action.
On the other hand, deep down, I recognized I did not find the nuts and bolts of administration interesting, at least intellectually. This is odd considering that I later served as an administrator for most of my career in higher education. But I never applied for or actively pursued any of the administrative positions I subsequently held, and quite honestly, the administrative duties of my positions were never of deep interest to me. I did, however, value the fact that I was in a position of leadership, and with leadership opportunities came opportunities to make a positive difference.
The curriculum and instruction program was broader and more flexible than the program in administration, so my friends encouraged me to make an appointment to meet with the department chair, Jerry Bellon. Most of us, when we reflect on our life, can point to a few moments that radically shifted its trajectory. Such was my meeting with Jerry. Literally, my life and the lives of everyone in my family were changed forever.
Jerry explained that, yes, I would need to apply for admittance to the curriculum and instruction doctoral program. I would also need a faculty doctoral committee to guide my study, and asking someone to chair my committee was an extremely important decision. When he asked whom I thought I would like to chair my doctoral committee, I had no idea how to respond. I had taken a philosophy class from a professor who seemed to be encouraging, open-minded, and flexible, so I mentioned him as a possibility. Jerry responded by asking me to take a few days to think about it.
Throughout the years when Jerry and I would get together and reminisce about those early days together, we would laugh about how long it took me to figure out what Jerry was trying his best to convey: perhaps Jerry himself would be an excellent person to chair my doctoral studies! Jerry had to keep asking, “So, Bob, have you given any more thought about the chair of your committee?” And invariably, after I would mention a name, Jerry would tell me to give it some thought and then come back and see him. It was perhaps our fourth meeting during which the light bulb finally clicked on and I said, “I was wondering if you would be willing to chair my doctoral committee.” Not only did Jerry agree to chair my committee, but we also began to talk about a graduate assistantship. I have often thought about what my life experiences would have been had Jerry simply agreed to another chairperson for my studies.
To say that Jerry had presence doesn’t do him justice. He was a strong person, both intellectually and physically. When Jerry was in a room, he became the center of the conversation. People gravitated to the power of his personality. Balancing this commanding personality was a good heart. Jerry was adamantly opposed to discrimination of any kind. He was demanding and fair. He had high expectations but was always willing to help. His professional career was on an upward flight, and he was willing to take me—and others—along with him.
Jerry had first become interested in improving classroom instruction while he was a doctoral student at Berkeley and later in his work as a faculty member at Stanislaus State, in California. With his friend and colleague Dick Jones, he began to sharpen his thinking around a concept and practices that at the time were referred to as clinical supervision. Importantly, Jerry also had developed a reputation as an effective consultant to schools and districts that were interested in improving classroom instruction and, ultimately, student learning through the clinical supervision process.
While working on my degree, I focused on the clinical supervision process in addition to the typical course of study, and Jerry began to include me in his consulting work, primarily in the western suburbs of Chicago and in districts on Long Island. Throughout my years in Knoxville, and later at Middle Tennessee State University, I continued to do consulting work with Jerry. Additionally, Jerry, Dick Jones, Jim Huffman, and I authored Classroom Supervision and Instructional Improvement (Bellon, Eaker, Huffman, & Jones, 1976). Almost immediately, I began to understand the added benefit of connecting consulting and publishing. Consulting was the perfect vehicle for connecting research and practice. While my publishing efforts were important, especially in the world of higher education, the practical upshot was increasingly being asked to speak at conferences or consult with schools and districts. I learned that publishing and consulting were inextricably linked. More importantly, these formative years gave me confidence and insights into working with schools and districts of all sizes and laid the groundwork for my own consulting work that was to follow.
A Brief History of Classroom Supervision
To fully understand the emergence of a clinical approach to supervision in
