This entry is cross-posted from my personal blog. Please direct your responses there.
What is creativity? I doubt many people, including teachers, could give you a good definition. In simplest terms, it is the ability to create. However, I like to use a more specific definition:
Creativity is the ability to transcend traditional ideas, rules, patterns, relationships, or the like, and to create meaningful new ideas, forms, methods, interpretations, etc.
The key to creativity is the ability and act of transcending tradition. Using this definition, I think creativity is exceptionally rare in schools. Students are almost never asked to transcend tradition and think outside the box. In fact, doing so is punished. This rarity arises from a confusion about what creativity really is.
If you were to ask most teachers or administrators, you would hear a distinctly different story. Most will says their schools/classrooms stimulate and “unlock” creativityUnlocking creativity is a scary proposition in and of itself. Who locked it up in the first place?. Doing a word search on school mission statements will turn up an inordinate number of references to creativity. Someone should replace 99% of those occurrences with the word “art.”
What many school officials and teachers mean by creativity is really art. Art is all about practice and method. Art is about the perfection of technique. Art is about applying techniques rigorously in pursuit of a goal. In short, art is studied action; artificiality in behavior.
Painting yet another landscape is art, and neither is solving a mathematical equation. Both of them involve substantial practice and application of traditional rules.In many ways, art is very similar to science. Make no mistake: both can be very difficult. The level of effort it takes to perfect any art is astounding. However, this is distinct from creativity. Remember, creativity is all about transcending tradition. In many ways, creativity and art are polar opposites.
Actually, creativity and art are not so much polar opposites as two sides of the same coin.Sick of the casual metaphors yet? Creativity is used to think of new ideas and sources of ideas. Art is used to translate those ideas into presentable forms. To create a brilliant work, both creativity and art must be used.
In many ways, schools fail to recognize this. Art is constantly drilled in schools: when not directly transferring content, teachers often focus on teaching new skillsMost skills are really just a combination of practice and knowledge of method, similar to art.. However, very little attention is paid to the application of those skills in novel ways. Writing thousands of 5-paragraph essays will give you perfect form and will make you a very precise writer, but it will not make you a great and innovative one. Translating notes into a science fair board will, optimally, teach art to a degree. However, none of these things will teach creativity. When schools talk about their wealth of creativity, they usually mean art.
To a certain degree, I do not think creativity can be taught. The very nature of it makes creativity unteachable—you cannot teach someone to positively ignore convention, since in doing so they would simply be internalizing another rule. However, creativity can be practiced. Constantly making new ideas teaches you to see which work and which will not. Searching for pattens helps you to see patterns faster in the future. Luckily, art can be taught—and it should be taught. Without art, nobody will respect your creativity. The point is, creativity can be practiced but not taught.
My favorite thing of all is to do nothing at all. I do nothing all the time: I walk nowhere, I think about nothing, I work on nothing. No, I have not turned into a nihilist. I simply chose to live my life for the unexpected, not the expected.
In set theory and other branches of math, nothing is often very similar or equal to everything. That’s the sort of nothing I like to do. Doing nothing is the same as doing anything that strikes your fancy, or not. Doing nothing is getting a crazy idea, then forgetting it. Ne rien faire est en train de parler en français pour aucune raison. Doing nothing is writing letters to yourself in the future. Doing nothing is pulling a random book off the shelf and reading 3½ paragraphs on page 27. Most of all, doing nothing is listening to all things you can’t hear:
“I like that too,” said Christopher Robin, “but what I like doing best is Nothing.”
“How do you do Nothing?” asked Pooh, after he had wondered for a long time.
“Well, it’s when people call out at you just as you’re going off to do it ‘What are you going to do, Christopher Robin?’ and you say ‘Oh, nothing,’ and then you go and do it.”
“Oh, I see,” said Pooh.
“This is a nothing sort of thing that we’re doing now.”
“Oh, I see,” said Pooh again.
“It means just going along, listening to all the things you can’t hear, and not bothering.”
“Oh!” said Pooh.
White is all colors and no color. Nothing is complicated and simple. “I’m doing nothing” is what you say when you really don’t want to say what you’re doing. Or, it’s what you say when you don’t know what you’re doing. Nothing is the easiest thing to do and the hardest thing to teach.
The web is great for doing nothing. Rainy days and dirt roads likewise. The greatest things happen when we’re doing nothing. I started my blog when I was doing nothing.
In our fast-paced society, we do a bit too much of everything. As the long days of summer approach, now is the best time to do nothing. Forget about exams (speaking of which, my favorite way to study is to do nothing) and college and graduation and do nothing. Maybe lazy people are just really, really smart.
Sparked by an inspirational post from Clay Burell, an incredibly thought-provoking comment thread ensued which challenged many of us to think about the importance of communication. In all its varied forms, communication is the most important skill in a new century where it is, generally, instant. The new tools and ideas challenge us to think and reevaluate how students are assessed and writing’s importance in this “brave new world.” The seed which grew this wide, 75-comment tall plant was, of itself, an interesting and engaging post about Muhammad Ali. In school, Ali got his share of D’s for his poor written skills. Yet, as the following quote from him shows, he had an intrinsic grasp of the English language, which he readily expressed through oral communication.
I went into a restaurant downtown - you couldn’t do that back then, because things weren’t integrated yet - and I sat down with my [Olympic] gold medal around my neck, and the waitress came up, and I said, ‘Yes, I’d like, uh, a cup of coffee, and a hot dog.’ And she said, ‘I’m sorry, we don’t serve negroes here.’ And I got so angry, I said, ‘And I don’t eat them, either. Now bring me a hot dog!’
Is this the kind of word play, humor, and fundamental grasp of language which you expect from a D- student?
Being only 15, I really did not know much about Muhammad Ali. I researched to discover the man behind these words that could “float like a butterfly and sting like a bee.” As I read (and watch) more of his oratorical genius, the breadth and depth of his ability to manipulate the English language for success has not ceased to amaze me. (How many D- students end up being honored by giving the graduation speech at Harvard?)
I think we can all agree that Ali understood how to use English, but his grade report would beg to differ: Cassius Clay does not have passable English. This discrepancy can be attributed to the overwhelming emphasis upon writing throughout school curriculum. Honestly, as I look at the string of recent exams and assignments I fail to see how I would be able to pass or show any true talent without strong writing skills:
English: journalistic essay analysis of Romeo and Juliet
Science exam: write a paragraph upon various science concepts
Math exam: (along with other problems) explain a problem in paragraph format
Health: essay upon the elements of health
History: 1,000 word paper upon the background of Iranian nuclear weaponry
As you can see, in almost any subject, particularly English, strong writing is integral to achieving success. Is this really fair to those who, like Ali, do not have excellent command of the written language but can speak words with wings?
With so much fodder for discussion, a fertile comment thread developed, centrally around the question of should all communication mediums be weighted equally, or should writing be given greater weight?
To even begin to delve into that question, the arena for debate must be built around English and Language Arts, including the difference between the two:
...the difference between “language arts” and “English” is paramount in my opinion: English deals with the language of English. Language arts deal with the art of language. Language Arts can deal with multiple languages. Graphics are a language. Symbols are a language. There’s no reason they shouldn’t be stressed just as much written English.
If (practically) anything is a language, what separates Language Arts from other courses? I think the answer to that question lies in that LA should focus around how language can be written and spoken to craft meaning, while other courses focus upon the specific applications of the theory of language. Though Benjamin held a divergent opinion, the continual weighting of writing is shown in what courses are required:
Okay, let’s give graphic communication its own course. (Some might call it art) I’m 99% positive it won’t be a required course. In most schools, “art” isn’t.
Yet, English is. Taking my own school, for example, graduation requires 4 years of English (more than any other subject) and only ½ year of “fine art” (which includes both oral communication and visual artistry). Anyone see the discrepancy?
Ignoring the tangents into computers‘ place in the writing process, the continual emphasis upon writing is attempted to be justified by the good ol’ workplace argument that “it’s what employers want.” Looking at the changing landscape of the workplace, that argument continually holds less and less ground. In many of this century’s jobs, reporting is just as likely to be done through quick Skype calls, IM chats, and emails than through TPS reports. So long as applicants have the ability to communicate (whether through writing, speech, or graphics), employers can utilize their talents in diverse fields.
Of course, most of the world’s information is still stored in the written word. Walking into a library, it would be hard to imagine communicating any other way. Even the digital revolution has failed to change this substantially. For the most part, this lengthy debate was battled by masters of the written typed word. Still, digital tools give us the ability to communicate easily and efficiently using other mediums, such as speech:
In fact, I would even go so far as to say that being able to communicate using other mediums makes you stand out from the crowd. As I attempted to communicate, those rare gems shine out in a sea of stones.
Of course, the looming stresses of writing-based SATs and important exams continues to put pressure upon teachers to focus on writing. Though you may not have much room to maneuver, I challenge you: think about how you, as a teacher of any subject, can help to recognize the other mediums of communication and those who have mastered them.
Even after 75 comments, the debate is not yet resolved. For this, I turn to your additional voices and ideas. In a world filled with words, how can equal weight be given to all the forms those words may take?
George Mayo, of Many Voices fame, has started a revolutionary new project centered around the violence in the Darfur region of Sudan. Starting at midnight yesterday, students from around the globe have been commenting in response to one of three prompts:
If you could visit the camps in Chad and sit down one-on-one with a refugee who is your age, how would you explain what you or others are doing in your country to spread awareness and make a difference?
Write an open letter to Omar al-Bashir pleading your case for the Darfur region of Sudan.
Write an open letter to leaders in your country to make a case for government support of international efforts in Darfur.
Together, over 650 students have responded in a great example of how the web can unite people around a common cause. If you aren’t familiar with the Darfur conflict, the student-created video below can help you out. I encourage all teachers and students to take Many Voices for Darfur both for their own classes and as an example of the power of web for voice and change.
One by one, we file past the teacher-turned-prison-guard. As each of us passed, she engages us in a confirmation ritual. “Work?” “Check.” “Book?” “Check.” That is the last word uttered for one and a half hours. For this period, we must sit silently with heads in books and work, where our mouths are conveniently positioned to be incapable of questioning. We cannot leave—even to seek the help of a teacher. In the only time during the day when most students actually work, we are treated like convicts. We must work (not learn) in the most efficient way possible. We are widgets in the machine of school. We are unwillingly being conscripted into a hostile intervention.
Interventions also happen behind other closed doors—in the justice system:
Intervention: Programs or services that are intended to disrupt the delinquency process and prevent a youth from penetrating further into the juvenile justice system. ~Kentucky Juvenile Justice Advisory Board
For me, this represents the epitome of what it is wrong in public school education—learning is seen as a laborious activity which students must literally be locked into doing. When one intervenes in something, one alters the direction it is heading in. Therefore, the assumption when students are put into intervention is that their learning direction must be altered. This would be fine (many of my peers do need to have intervention in their life/learning direction), except the course is required. No matter the direction of your learning or how well you are doing, you are forced into a silent study period. See where I am going with this? Before I even start school, I am scheduled for an intervention in my learning. The equivalent would be signing up your baby girl for drug rehab 16 years in advance.
Step back and consider the way education is approached in the majority of classrooms: as a dreaded task. Complicated assessment patterns are devised to be carrots for students to do their work. Meanwhile, sticks of punishment are given to those who do not do their job. Forced study halls are created in order to ensure we all keep our noses in books, where our voices are conveniently stifled. Of course, this is all done under the principal that students need to be forced to learn.
Wait. There is something wrong with the picture here. Frankly, I think schools are becoming far too business-like. Many of my peers often think of school as unpaid work. Of course, professionalism is continually emphasized as the highest principle for which students must strive. Schools even use the same reward/punishment system as the workplace: good grades = good job = $$$ and failing school = unemployment ≠ $$$. I think this is the core of what is wrong with schools: all students are expected to be professional students. That is, it is expected that we will only learn if we are forced to do so either because we desire the reward (grades) or fear the punishment (failing). In fact, this is setting up students to hate learning.
That might be a dangerous accusation, but I think it is an ultimately true one. After all, students are treated as if they already do hate learning. Grades, forced study times, detentions, and graduation requirements are all safeguards built to force students into learning. My philosophy is that if you treat a problem, there will soon be a problem; this is a self-fulfilling prophecy. By treating students as if we hate and will avoid learning at all costs, we will hate and avoid learning at all costs.
Naturally, the alternative is to encourage amateur learning: learning which is done for the love of it rather than for some distant paycheck. The argument against this is that students will not learn the skills they need to be successful citizens. I vastly disagree for the simple reason that every young child wants to grow up to be a successful citizen. Nobody is born hating learning—they grow to hate it through successively being treated as if they should hate it. No child is born thinking I am bad at math—they think that after being told it many times (in different words). Think of it like this: there is only so much education which can be packed into 12 years of school. What if instead of trying to build students the perfect toolbox, schools taught students to make their own tools? If students are never taught to hate/fear learning, they will not shy away from learning opportunities. The teachers and resources are available for life-long, anytime learning; students must simply have their original love of learning preserved.
Imagine: Peter is a student in a self-directed learning environment. In the primary grades, he takes a wide mix of classes, primarily due to peer pressure and recommendations from friends/family. In these classes, he learns the basics: reading, mathematics fundamentals, grammar, and how to research. As he moves up in the grades, he narrows his focus upon writing, eventually phasing out mathematics classes. Throughout the process, no class or work is forced upon him: he is given the options and selects the choices for himself. Consequently, since learning is never treated as a hated activity, he never learns to hate learning but instead preserves the innate love of it. Down the line, Peter has written a best-selling novel and is trying to invest the money he earned. As any intelligent person would, he is trying to figure out the best option from the choices banks have presented him with. To be clear, Peter never learned about exponential equations or compound interest in school. However, because he still loves to learn he simply taps into Google and finds the resources necessary for him to evaluate the choices. Due to Peter being an amateur learner, he actively seeks out opportunities to learn, even though nobody is forcing him to.
The rational for not encouraging self directed learning is that simply packing students with as much knowledge possible (no matter the cost) is most efficient. However, the problem arises with the information that students do not get into their memory: since most of them will end up fearing/despising learning they will not add anything to it after school. Meanwhile, students who pursue learning on their own terms may well know less information on their exit from formal schooling. However, that information is not static: they are readily adding to it through additional learning. The traditional model has been to treat students like hard drives: packing them with 12 TB of knowledge before all cables are cut. I’d rather get out of school with only 1 GB of knowledge and a connection to the internet—at least then I can continually add to that store. Schools must make a choice: do they want to try to stuff as much learning as possible down students’ throats or do they want to give students a hunger for learning?
I don’t want to be a professional student; I want to be an amateur learner.
Of Creativity & Art
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