This research considers a person’s ontological fabric woven from experiences of and in (trans)formative childhood and adolescent places through three conceptual frameworks: complexity theory, endogeny, and i/Indigenous ways of knowing. By re-visiting the (trans)formative places of four exemplary citizens with them, creating an interactive website and iBook, and exploring ten online public participants’ posts, I gained an understanding of how childhood and adolescent outdoor places act as catalysts of community, ecological, and civic environmental engagement. To achieve this, I asked the question: Does learning that occurs in childhood and adolescent outdoor places inform civic, emotional, physical, and/or spiritual engagement or connectedness over the course of people’s lives? If so, how? Tsartlip (Coast Salish First Nations) Elder, May Sam, Hua Foundation co-founder Claudia Li, National Geographic Explorer-in-Residence, Wade Davis, and former Lieutenant Governor of BC, Iona Campagnolo, all exemplary individuals, shared personal relationships with their childhood and adolescent places. They engaged though participatory action research by taking me to these places, contributing to the interview process, and supporting the analysis of the results. As a way to engage decolonizing methodologies and encourage authentic voice within this research, I took great care in using interview and discourse techniques that were respectful, engaging, and empowering. Each of these visits were filmed and appropriate sections were shared through online social media as a way to invite participation from the larger North American public (www.transformativeplaces.com). Ten more participants’ experiences were analyzed based on their submissions to this website. Data were explored through a hybrid of phenomenological and participatory analysis and participants were invited to help discern meaning through post-filming interviews and dialogue. The concept (trans)formative places was defined as sites that engage humans in biophysical, emotional, spiritual, and civic engagement. Major notions included the development of a memetic group of concepts that help describe the processes, characteristics, and relationships that occur from, in, and with (trans)formative places. I found that my participants’ relationship to places were formed through family and community bonds, where learning occurs through shared stories, collective healing, and respect-building. Places transformed my participants through identity development, memory and anxiety, resiliency behaviour, nostalgia, and loss. Finally, my participants related to places through connective processes like knowing a place and being home, engendering bliss and appreciation, development of pride and hope and emotionality. The final section of this dissertation is articulated as a manifesto for creating, sustaining, and engaging in (trans)formative places. To download the interactive iBook of this dissertation search for it in iTunes. / Graduate / 0350 / 0525 / 0534 / 0740 / 0768 / 0620 / 0727 / nstanger@nicholasstanger.ca

Fyra analysander intervjuades om deras upplevelser av den psykoanalytiska situationen. Materialet analyserades med hjälp av EPP (empirical phenomenological psychologial) -metoden. Resultatet beskriver fenomenets meningsstruktur som en helhet och visar på den psykoanalytiska situationens generella kännetecken: den psykoanalytiska situationen som något svårfångat, som ett upprepat omprövande, som ett arbete, den präglas av konflikter och motstånd, en upplösning av tid och rum, ett möte med analytikern, ett rum för självutforskande och avslutningsvis, identitetsskapande självreflektion. Resultatet visar att upplevelsen av den psykoanalytiska situationen är något upplösande som bryter med den vanliga livsvärldsupplevelsen. Den är något irrationellt svårfångat. Resultaten visar också hur upplevelsen präglas av relationen till analytikern, hur den möter motstånd och konflikt. Avslutningsvis hur det formas något nytt genom ett prövande och utforskande meningsskapande.

In this dissertation, I examine the role that intentional descriptions play in our scientific study of the mind. Behavioural scientists often use intentional language in their characterization of cognitive systems, making reference to “beliefs”, “representations”, or “states of information”. What is the scientific value gained from employing such intentional terminology? I begin the dissertation by contrasting intentional descriptions with mechanistic descriptions, as these are the descriptions most commonly used to provide explanations in the behavioural sciences. I then examine the way that intentional descriptions are employed in various scientific contexts. I conclude that while mechanistic descriptions characterize the underlying structure of systems, intentional descriptions allow us to generate predictions of systems while remaining agnostic as to their mechanistic underpinnings. Having established this, I then argue that intentional descriptions share much in common with statistical models in the way they characterize systems. Given these similarities, I theorize that intentional descriptions are employed within scientific practice as a particular type of phenomenological model. Phenomenological models are used to study, characterize, and predict the phenomena produced by mechanistic systems without describing their underlying structure. I demonstrate why such models are integral to our scientific discovery, and understanding, of the mechanisms that make up the brain. With my account on the table, I then look back at previous accounts of intentional language that philosophers have offered in the past. I highlight insights that each brought to our understanding of intentional language, and point out where each ultimately goes astray. I conclude the dissertation by examining the ontological implications of my theory. I demonstrate that my account is compatible with versions of both realism, and anti-realism, regarding the existence of intentional states.

In December 2004, at the SoDIS® (Software Development Impact Statements) symposium in Auckland, an industry certification as a method of credentialing teachers and analysis of SoDIS was mooted. SoDIS, a process of ethics-based risk assessment and analysis of downstream risk to project and software stakeholders, including the public, is currently in the process of progressing from prototype to commercial product. Certification was proposed to ensure the integrity of the process and the quality of service to stakeholders.Certification sponsored by industry, commercial organisation, or professional association (collectively referred to as industry certification, or certification) has been a form of credentialing for over half a century. Industry certification was adopted by the IT industry when Novell, Inc. began testing and certifying IT industry and IT network professionals in 1986 (Cosgrove, 2004; Novell, 1996). Global certification testing centres were established in 1990 by Drake International (now Thomson Prometric) (Foster, 2005).During the 1990s, industry certification became a veritable juggernaut: a "multi-billion dollar business" (Cosgrove, 2004, p. 486), an industry that has arisen in its own right (Adelman, 2000) and driven by several dynamics (Hitchcock, 2005). In 2000 there were over 300 discrete IT certifications with approximately 1.6 million individuals holding approximately 2.4 million IT certifications (Aldelman, 2000). The total number of available certifications is impossible to quantify (Knapp & Gallery, 2003). Many academic institutions both at tertiary and secondary level are integrating industry certification, especially IT certification, into their curricula.Is industry certification, however, a pedagogically robust form of credentialing? Does it have value to its stakeholders? Is it an appropriate form of credentialing for the SoDIS process? This research, using both Phenomenography and Interpretive Phenomenological Analysis (IPA) as a joint methodology, focuses on the experiences of actors with the phenomenon of industry certification and extracts both the essence of the understanding and perceptions of the value and validity of industry certification, and the essence of industry certification itself.Due to the vast amount of literature found describing industry actors' perceptions of and experiences within the phenomenon, the research is predominantly literature-based. Further data was collected from interviews with a small, purposive sample of industry certification holders and employers, with the research further informed by my own experiences within the domain which is the focus of the research. The methodology paradigm is interpretive: the research aims to interpret the social construction that is the phenomenon of industry certification.While this research does not attempt to single out specific industry certifications to determine their value or pedagogical robustness, the findings suggest that, in general, well designed and well administered certifications with integrity and rigour of assessment processes, are indeed pedagogically sound, with significant value. The research identifies both benefit and criticism elements of typical certifications, along with elements of the various certification programmes categorised into standard (typical), and more rigorous (less typical) certification programmes.The research develops and presents a paradigm for building an appropriate vendor specific or vendor neutral certification programme that is pedagogically sound with value for its stakeholders. The contrasts and complementary aspects of industry certification and academic qualifications are highlighted. It is therefore concluded, and supported by data from the interviews, that such a credential is indeed appropriate for teachers and analysts of SoDIS.

Doctor of Philosophy / People gather. Everywhere. They gather to witness. To tell and to listen to stories. To show what was done, and how what is to be done might best be done. To perform the necessary procedures to make sure the gods are glorified and the world continues to be made as it should. To dance, to heal, to marry, to send away the dead, to entertain, to praise, to order the darkness, to affirm the self. People are gathering. As they always have—everywhere. Doctors, lawyers, bankers and politicians don evening wear to attend performances in which people sing in unearthly voices in languages they do not understand, to sit in rows, silent, and to measure the appropriate length of time they should join with each other in continuing to make light slapping noises by striking the palms of their hands together to show their appreciation at the end of the performance. One hundred thousand people gather on the last Saturday of September every year in a giant stadium in the city of Melbourne, Australia at the “hallowed turf” of the Melbourne Cricket Ground, to watch 36 men kick, punch and catch an oval shaped ball with each other, scoring points by kicking it between long sticks planted in the ground. The gathered multitude wears the same ritual colours as the men playing the game. They cry out, stand and sing anthems. This game is played and understood nowhere else in the world, but in the Melbourne cultural calendar it is the most important day of the year. It is what makes Melbourne Melbourne. Before the whitefella came, aborigines from the clans of the Yiatmathang, Waradjuri Dora Dora, Duduroa, Minjambutta, Pangerang, Kwatt Kwatta—the wombat, kangaroo, possum, Tasmanian tiger, echidna, koala and emu, would gather on the banks of the Murray River, near what is now the twin cities of Albury/Wodonga to organize marriages, perform initiations, to lay down weapons, to dance, to settle debts and disputes, to tell stories, to paint their bodies, and to request permission from the Yiatmathang to cross the river and make the climb to the top of Bogong High Plains in late spring, to feast on the Bogong moths arriving fully grown after their flight from Queensland, ready to be sung, danced and eaten. On the island of Sulawesi, a son of a family bears the responsibility of providing the largest possible number of buffalo to be sacrificed at the funeral of his father. A sacrifice which will condemn the son to a life of debt to pay for the animals which must be slaughtered in sufficient number to affirm the status of his family, provide enough meat to assure the correct distributions are made, and assure that his father has a sufficiently large herd in Puya, the afterworld. Temporary ritual buildings for song and dance must be constructed, effigies made, invitations issued. Months are spent in the preparations. And then the people will arrive, family, friends, colleagues and tourists, in great numbers, from surrounding villages, from Ujung Pandang, from Jakarta, from Australia, from Europe, from the USA, to sing, dance, talk, look and listen. And if the funeral is a success, the son will gain respect, status and honour for himself, and secure a wellprovided journey to the afterlife for his father. In a primary school playground, in an outer suburb of any Australian city, thirty parents sit in a couple of rows of metal and plastic chairs on a spring afternoon to watch their own and each other’s children sing together in hesitant or strident voices, in or out of time and tune versions of well-known popular songs praising simple virtues are applauded; the younger the children, the greater the effort, the longer and louder the applause. Some of these people are the same doctors, bankers and lawyers who had donned evening wear the night before at opera houses, now giving freely of the appreciative palm slapping sound held so precious in that other environment. And they will gather and disperse and regather, at times deemed appropriate, at the times when these gatherings have always occurred, these lawyers, doctors, sons, mothers, sports fans, when and where they can and should and must, to sing, to dance, to tell stories, to watch and listen, to be there with and among each other bearing witness to their faith, their belief, their belonging, their values. But what, in these superficially disparate, culturally diverse and dispersed groups of people, what draws them, what gathers an audience, what gathers in an audience, and what in an audience is salient for the audience members? What gathers, what gathers in an audience?

Thesis (Ph.D.)--Duquesne University, 2007. / Title from document title page. Abstract included in electronic submission form. Includes bibliographical references (p. 112-115).

Univ., Diss.--Berlin, 2003. / Literaturverz. S. [409] - 423.

Thesis (Ph. D. in Religion)--Vanderbilt University, Dec. 2008. / Title from title screen. Includes bibliographical references.

Thesis (Ph. D.)--University of Notre Dame, 2006. / Thesis directed by Lynette P. Spillman for the Department of Sociology. "December 2006." Includes bibliographical references (leaves 188-197).

Within my thesis I propose to establish the existence of what I call 21st century expressionism. This genre of art is an extension of the movement that began in 20th century post-war America. 21st century expressionists create works that are intended to promote emotional responses within the viewer. “The term ``expressionism'' can be used to describe various art forms but, in its broadest sense, it is used to describe any art that raises subjective feelings above objective observations. Its aim is to reflect the artists’ state of mind rather than the reality of the external world”. Lee Krasner and Tony Smith, represent prime examples of 20th century expressionists and, Etsuko Ishikawa and Beth Cavener Stichter represent artists of 21st century expressionism.