The Creative Educational Potential of Narrative and Storytelling
In a book concerned with creativity , storytelling , technology and educational design , a good point at which to start is consideration of one of the foundational tenets of our discussion: narrative and its essential and powerful role in education . And where better to start, perhaps, than a story about narrative in the classroom.
In his brilliant autobiographical novel, Teacher Man: A Memoir (2005), wherein he recounted his career as a teacher in America, the writer Frank McCourt reprised humorous and insightful memories of his time in the classroom, including his often-inspired efforts to motivate his students and maintain their interest. Many teachers will be able to relate to McCourtâs narrative , owing to its universality; every teacher faces the challenge, every day, of trying to engage their students with the subject they are teaching, despite students sometimes (or frequently) not wanting to engage, often with topics or subjects they might consider unrelated, and thus unimportant in their prevailing discourse and everyday lives. However, as well as the relatable, universal qualities of McCourtâs classroom stories, we also find them humorous and engaging, precisely because they surprise and delight us. In addition to being conventional and thus recognisable by any teacher, the narrative of McCourtâs classroom isâas we will presently discussâexceptional and entertaining, and represents instruction that is different from that which teachers might normatively do in their classrooms.
We will return to this central theme in the bookâwhat we might call the Brunerian perspective , predicated on the ideas and writings of the late educational psychologist, Jerome Bruner (1915â2016), particularly his conceptualisation of the educational potential of narrative and storytelling . The Brunerian perspective posits that narrative mediates our creativity by dually affording a common and shared, known structure for human experienceâbestowing a sense of the commonplace and everydayâwhile concomitantly affording potential for exceptionality and particularity. This dynamicâbetween ordinariness and exceptionâis an inherently powerful aspect of narrative , which can serve to evoke, exercise and excite our imagination and creativity .
Returning for the moment to Frank McCourtâs classroom: during his career as a teacher after the Second World War, McCourt taught in different types of schools, including those where very challenging socio-economic conditions predominated. Typically, in the latter, education was not valorised outside the formal pedagogical setting of the classroom.
McCourt found it especially difficult to teach the key skills of writing; indeed, it traditionally represents one of the toughest areasâof any elements in the syllabusâfor teachers and their pupils to engage with. However, as we know, writing represents one of the four key activities underlying all literacy and language learning. It is thus a crucial dimension of any classroom, and indeed of any educational setting where language and literature are being taught.
McCourt was finding it a challenge, if not impossible, to encourage his students to undertake written tasks, indeed to write anything at all. Further, it was not only during class-time that students were reluctant to engage. His pupils very rarely, if ever, completed and turned in the homework assigned to them. Indeed, to avoid doing homework, students would contrive and offer all kinds of imaginative stories, often written up as forged excuse notes. Passed off as authored by their parents, they would even claim in these excuse notes that some major catastrophe had befallen them, which had resulted in the destruction of what would otherwise have been complete and perfect homework. Of course, these were invariably fictions intended to distract the teacher and avoid, at all costs, the apparent drudgery of homework. Nonetheless, in composing these narrative artefacts, students were evidencing creativity .
On a more fundamental level, they were writing creativelyâexactly the activity that McCourt was finding hard to encourage and support through more traditional teaching methods in the classroom.
McCourtâs pupils would produce the most wonderful, creative and imaginative excuse notes so that they did not have to turn in homework: âHow could I have ignored this treasure trove, these gems of fiction and fantasy? Here was American high school writing at its bestâraw, real, urgent, lucid, brief, and lyingâ (McCourt, 2005, p. 85).
For example, one of the fanciful excuse notes read: âHer big brother got mad at her and threw her essay out the window and it flew away all over Staten Island which is not a good thing because people will read it and get the wrong impression unless they read the ending which explains everythingâ (McCourt, 2005, pp. 85â86). Another of the notes implied that homework composition, bravely attempted under serious duress, had potentially created risk of deprivation of liberty: âWe were evicted from our apartment and the mean sheriff said if my son kept yelling for his notebook heâd have us all arrestedâ (McCourt, 2005, p. 86).
Comedy, literariness and fictional ingenuity, all evidenced in the excuse notes produced by his students, who were otherwise struggling to write and express themselves creatively: âI was having an epiphany. Isnât it remarkable, I thought, how the students whined and said it was hard putting 200 words together on any subject? But when they forged excuse notes, they were brilliant. The notes I had could be turned into an anthology of Great American Excuses. They were samples of talent never mentioned in song, story or studyâ (McCourt, 2005, pp. 84â85).
The idea thus occurred to McCourt that perhaps excuse notes could be used as a pedagogical stratagemâin classâto encourage his pupils to write, engage and be creative. What if this traditionally âanti-educationalâ narrative artefact could be used productively for educational purposes? Consequently, he had his students write excuse notes for famous characters in history.
The strategy works well pedagogically because a natural location for a sequel to any literary or historical tragedy would be a courtroom, where the plaintiff and defendantâs stories are heard, adjudged and sentence duly passed.
Indeed, a suggested modern method for teaching dramatic texts, for example, Shakespeare and other areas of the English curriculumâespecially those with a strong narrative design , for example, novel, short story, is to simulate a courtroom, where the protagonist and antagonist stand trial, and must answer for the consequences and implications of their fateful actions. It is suggested as an interactive and critical way to exploreâwith studentsâkey literary issues like the Shakespearean âTragic Flawâ, natural and tragic justice, and the moral implications of charactersâ respective decisions and actions.
The simulated courtroom and its accusatory-excusatory dyadic provide a creative context to promote and represent the student voice, in which connections can be drawn between the opinions and views of pupils and the moral of the stories and morality of the characters on trial.
Combining his studentsâ avowed creativity as authors of elaborate excuse notes with the need to find ways to engage them more effectively in class, the idea to encourage his studentâs written creativity through composing excuse notes was an especially innovative andâat the time, reflecting on it nowâa prescient approach to teaching English.
As well as engaging his pupils more effectively, creatively and imaginatively in writing, indeed in encouraging them to write anything at all, the innovation also highlighted the importance and potential of narrative and storytelling in education , learning and teaching.
Although imaginary and purposefully fictitious, Frank McCourtâs pupils were making meaningful connections between an autobiographical and creative narrative format that was familiar in their own lived experience, and which they had become conversant atâthe forged excuse noteâand areas of the curriculum that probably, previously seemed inaccessible and irrelevant to them.
In our highly mediated and networked world today, the narrative mode of autobiography has emerged as a principal communicative and creative aspect of how we engage with technology. Many of the technologies we use in our homes and schools are predicated fundamentally on narrative and autobiography. The âstorying of selfâ has become a de facto means by which people use technology to collaborate and communicate in contemporary society.
A prime example is Facebook, which is a socially mediated, collaborative technology based fundamentally on autobiographyâa means for people to author and narrate digitally their own stories, interests and perspectives.
Many of the features of Facebook are expressly autobiographical, for example: the bespoke Your Story button and functionality. Indeed, it is interesting to note also the recent redesign of Facebook, which aims to augment the technologyâs autobiographical design by focusing more on personal stories, rather than news items, in usersâ news feeds (The New York Times, 2018).
Micro-blogging is also autobiographical in design , often used for the expression and sharing of personal moments and perspectives.
In the 1950s, Frank McCourt drew on the potential of the autobiographical narrative artefact of the excuse note to support creative writing among his pupils, and today we use autobiographical, social media tools, for example, Facebook and Twitter, to communicate ourselves and our identities, and to connect with others.
As McCourt utilised the potential of the excuse note, we can also creatively deploy narrative and autobiographical technologies in education today, to support collaboration, communication and creativity .
So, what are the implications for educational technology design in this apparent Age of Autobiography ? Further, how can we utilise the biographical and narra...