Toward a Curriculum of the Imagination, part 2
Last month, while visiting Las Vegas, I found myself thinking about the adult imagination. This month, while hearing the same ideas about creativity over and over from my students, I began to wonder. Could the adult imagination be traced back to its roots in school, where we are taught to respect facts and rules and deny the imagination?
This past month, as I've said, I’ve heard over and over again a belief my students hold to as a dogma. “Creativity,” they say, “means throwing
out the rules and just expressing your self.” I've noticed that they usually do say "self" and not "mind," but that is a point for another blog.
What we basically have here is a widely held belief about
"Creativity." But those who hold to it should not be shamed for accepting it any more than those little girls, who haven't yet had music appreciation, should be shamed for their love of Justin Bieber. In the few General Education classes where my students had to
write, they were told very little, at least in comparison to the ancients. They
were not told that good writing meant rewriting (as Mark Twain wrote, and as
my father always told me). They were told to follow rules--and punished when they didn't:
Rule one: Never use first person.
Rule two: Never begin a sentence
with the word “and.”
Rule three: Have five paragraphs,
three of which form the body of the paper.
Rule four: Have seven sentences
(or five, depending on the teacher) for each paragraph.
Rule five: Write grammatical
sentences. (And this led to about ninety other rules, each followed by
exceptions.)
Post-Rules
That’s about it. The rules are
stupid, of course.
Oh, but to be creative means to
throw them out.
And I can see why my students want to
throw them out. They aren’t of any real help when we want to communicate
our most important ideas to the real world. They are not about generating ideas or examining them. They
are not about reflection or idea development. They are a series of rigidly
correct moves to make at all times, regardless of audience, subject, or
purpose.
But tossing the rules is doing little more than the equivalent of elementary school finger painting and is really
not much help either. If it were, the world currently would be noisy with creative
writers. And it isn’t. This mirage of creativity, this hope, is so different
from what I read from creative writers. Flannery O’Connor, for example,
referred to habits of mind.
To most of us, there
is no need for habits when creativity is supposed to flow like a stream from
the average consciousness. There is no need for paying attention,
concentration, learning about ideas, or learning anything about how language
works or how other writers and poets have learned about language. The idea is
that nature is by itself enough.
Nature
is What Happens to Us
Well, nature isn’t really enough.
Nature is what is happening to us all the time and what will eventually be our
undoing. Instead, we need to practice. We need to fail. We need to have others
around to critique our work and to tell us, in effect, where and when our ideas
are stupid or poorly realized or too sentimental. We need a process. We need to
write, read, rewrite, rewrite again, and learn what others are doing.
But my students generally do not
accept the idea of process. They accept format.
But a format is rigid, a one time
deal.
Though I fear I am being too
obvious, I am coming off another semester of teaching writing classes to people
who do not believe that process matters. So I need to say this. It does.
And we need to place it at the center of any curriculum of the imagination.
And we need to place it at the center of any curriculum of the imagination.
Without process, we are left with
the rules or no rules approach. And that is, to sound the cliche, to be between a rock and a hard place.
Labels: creativity, Flannery O'Connor, Process, Revision
4 Comments:
In our world of immediate gratification, I can understand how your students want the quick and easy way to get the job done. Following a set of rigid rules may give them a feeling of accomplishment, but they might find themselves like the Pharisees--dried up on their self-righteousness with no audience. Keeping a spirit of the rules in mind and having good reasons for when you don't follow them is key.
Well said, Sue. I like your phrase "spirit of the rules." I think that says it well.
Good thoughts as always. It seems that creative works are published/aired/posted so frequently that it appears they are crafted just as easily. In addition, people who break both the rules and the process find a great deal of success (some would contend the most popular YA series fall into this category).
We seek to preserve the Academy as a place where we would withdraw, reflect and produce the results of said analysis, but our world expects instant brilliance. I am not sure we can overcome the dichotomy, but the effort is always a valiant and noble one.
Thanks, David, for the ideas. Of course, it is my contention that the "rules" mostly mislead students. Teaching writing has more to do with facility, with learning different genres and audiences, the latter two of which determine whether or not to use "I," and even how many paragraphs to compose.
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