Finding Your Peacock Feathers
It was in a session this week, as a guest lecturer, that I asked my delegates a series of questions, these being: Are you a creative educator?, Do you have a creative mind?, Is creativity a form of self-actualisation?. The responses were varied and thought provoking and led me to this reflective blog and to reflect upon how as a teenager I had chosen Art as one of my options at secondary school, only to be told that my form was not allowed to take Art and so I was given Economics to study instead.
Whilst I left school with a Economics qualification, I loathed every single lesson but I quickly adapted and disappeared into the lessons albeit whilst having a very 'eighties' Farrah Fawcett hairstyle with plenty of hairspray and sneaking as much colour into my bland school uniform as I could get away with. During my school years I longed for creativity, to be taught creativity, to move, to doodle, to be expressive and be given the conditions to 'germinate' my ideas and thrive.
During my guest lecture this week, I introduced my delegates to the creative cycle and asked them to reflect upon how they might use the creative cycle to help learners to utilise their imagination, germinate, assimilate and self-actualise, how they could use creativity to support learners to wire their emotions and how as an education sector we could let our learners find their peacock feathers?
Creativity requires us as educators to provide a space where creativity can flow, where as a learner you feel safe and have the freedom for self expression. Preparation of this space is key in order for learners to let go, let their imagination flow, ignite sparks of joy and creative connectivity. It is during the letting go stage that ideas are germinated, where learners might feel a buzz, be energised and formulate ideas and feel a sense of independence, self-confidence and internal control over their ideas and studies. Germination is then followed by assimilation and completion, the completion of a idea, for me as writer this is moving from the blank piece of paper to doodles, to mind maps to the final written piece.
So how do we ensure we provide these spaces in our education system? How do we provide spaces for the creative mind? In turn, how do we become creative educators in order to embody flow, embrace openness to experiences, seek enjoyment of experimentation and much more?
I wonder if our education system is focused more on compliancy and curriculum, not creativity, and leaves us with peacocks not quite finding their feathers.
@anniependrey
@mooby2000
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful blog about creativity. I became a teacher because I was nurtured & allowed to express myself creatively (during my Primary Years). Therefore, I've always nurtured creativity and self-expression. Sometimes reinventing my approaches to the curriculum & going against the status quo.
As an NQT, I was fortunate enough to work for a Head who valued creativity and insisted we plan with that in mind (the good ole days before the Numeracy/ Literacy Hour and Nat. C!) Our curriculum reflected our children, their experiences, cultures and backgrounds. In the heart of the White City Estate in London, it was a vibrant curriculum celebrating the rich, vibrant community.
With my class, I made sure we had some time daily to express our creativity however small e.g. doodle of the day, an affirmation of the day, 'Shine the light' (a bit like 'show and tell' children shared drama, dance, poetry recital, science experiment, Judo show). It's so important to value and nurture a child's interest and creativity not only does it help you to connect with a child but allows peers to connect through a collective creative process.
Even now as SENDCo I ensure I nurture creativity. During my weekly 'Lockdown Wellbeing calls' I talk to parents and children about their interests and encourage pupils and their families to express themselves creatively. For me, this sits above curriculum because I believe this creative expression promotes healthy well being and good mental health.
@JChillingworth
ReplyDeleteI recall very clearly an art class when I was in secondary school, in which we had been asked to create a pen and ink drawing. I found I quite enjoyed this activity and eventually, having created something that I was really pleased with, I shared it with the teacher - she told me it wasn't finished. Dutifully (because I was that kind of child), I went back to my desk and added some more lines, but upon returning to my teacher, I was told again that it wasn't complete. This cycle continued until the end of the lesson and the next week, we moved on - I never did 'complete' that piece of art.
My learning experience from that lesson and others like it was that I was no good at art and that I never would be, because I didn't seem to be able to grasp the apparently arbitrary rules regarding what was 'wrong' and what was 'right' in terms of art. From that point on, I decided that I wasn't creative. After all, creativity is about being able to draw and paint, right?
It wasn't until I became a parent that I questioned this definition. When my son was very small, I would dutifully get out the paints and try and encourage his 'creativity'. Perhaps picking up on my evident lack of enthusiasm, however, he never really got excited about painting or drawing. In the meantime, though, we both loved music and language and we would make up songs and stories, play around with words, creating silly new ones that were reminiscent of the language of Roald Dahl (though not quite to his standard or I'd be a best-selling author by now) and at Christmas, my husband and I would spirit up increasingly crazy ideas for the visiting elf. However, it wasn't until I took a more traditional approach one year, by creating a papercraft advent calendar on our kitchen wall that I remember anyone else ever using the word 'creative' in relation to me. Yet, the friend who shared this with me, saw me as a creative person. It was a revelation and at that moment, I began to re-frame my view of myself in relation to creativity.
These days, I understand how creativity is at the heart of much of what we all do in life, both personally and professionally. You can be creative in planning a birthday surprise for a friend or designing a room in your house, but equally, in planning a lesson or designing a curriculum. As a teacher of MFL, I see everyday, how learners can be creative with their use of language and even in how they approach that language learning; however, many of them, like me years ago, would never consider themselves as being creative. This is sadly a narrative that teachers are being forced to perpetuate in schools as a result of guidelines that dictate marking in relation to the number of fronted adverbials rather than the child's creativity. Much like with my art experience, this restriction of the creative process through the application of a set of imposed rules can only serve to create future adults who have shut down their creativity.
For my part, I often share my art story with my adult learners and remind them that the vocabulary and grammar they learn are merely the stepping stones that allow them to use language creatively. As a result, they use the language to tell jokes, to create humorous dialogues and to tell stories and it is in this side of the classes that they clearly find their joy. For so many, though, the opportunity to re-frame may never arise and so, we must ensure that children are encouraged to explore and take flight in whatever way we can. After all, an extra line on a pen and ink drawing or the correct use of a fronted adverbial will not make the world a better place, but creative thinkers just might.
You posed the right question there. We are, by nature and instinct, creative. Our societal values tend to be fiscal and everything becomes a commodity. During lockdown, people have learnt that they have “spaces” in their houses and gardens where they can “think” and that leads to being able to make creative responses to life’s issues and problems but also for the sheer joy of just making something, listening to a piece of music, reading a great story, getting lost in a podcast or a film. Slowing down and taking stock is precious and may it continue after the pandemic becomes a memory. What a crying shame that you were denied art at school. Criminal in fact.
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