Don't Forget the Dreamers: Creativity, Engagement, and Calvin & Hobbes

While reading the texts for this week’s discussion, I began thinking about a particular type of student that seems to fall through the cracks between the participatory model of Alvermann and the social/practical models described by Moje et al. This type of student is implied in Intrator & Kunzman's assessment of disengaged students who are relegated to a passive role in the pedagogical process, and who are denied the opportunity to talk back to educators about how they "feel" about their learning experience.

I am talking about the profoundly creative student, who poses a unique challenge for teachers who want to keep students engaged and focused. For the sake of this blog's simplicity, I could refer to this archetype as "the daydreamer," but I think it would be more fun to present a pseudo-case-study of a student who exemplifies this challenge: Calvin.

Calvin – whose best friend is an imaginary, anthropomorphized, stuffed tiger – lacks the entrenched social connections that many of Moje et al.'s models rely on for student engagement. He also presents as uninterested in modes of instruction that teach "practical" skills for the real world, which he finds dull in comparison to the worlds he creates in his mind. Moje et al.'s models are better suited for Calvin's neighbor, Suzy.

Suzy exemplifies a student who enjoys the content and the social context of learning. Calvin, in contrast, perceives Suzy’s enjoyment as antithetical to his selfhood; he echoes the objections raised by students described in Intrator & Kunzman's article, who feel that they succeed only by becoming "robots" that can perform the uninteresting tasks required to advance in their education. Calvin, like many adolescents, finds himself at odds with the very structure of formalized education. In fact, he delights in opposing the rigid thinking and prescribed curriculum that we see in content delivery models of teaching.

The fundamental problem that daydreamers like Calvin face is the same as the other students: he is not presented with texts that stimulate his interest. But Calvin's participation is harder to elicit even in the context of a subject he enjoys, as his favorite mode of learning is not dialogue, critical analysis, or practical application; it is unbridled, creative exploration.

As a teenager, Calvin will be the type of student who plays into the stereotypical view of adolescents as repositories of "storm and stress," and who engage in "risky behaviors." In fact, students like Calvin seek out such risks, as they are inclined to learn about the world by challenging perceptions, boundaries, and social norms.

Despite the pervasiveness of highly regulated learning environments, there is hope for these students, especially in the context of their adolescent development . In their 2006 book Understanding Youth: Adolescent Development for Educators, J. Nakkula & Eric Toshalis devote an entire chapter to describing how "risk taking" can be converted from a negatively conceived behavior to one that enables student engagement through creative generation. Part of the problem, Nakkula & Toshalis argue, is that school is perceived by adolescents as a restrictive environment, which does not offer a suitable locale for them to find “psychic” release, or to sate their desire for "novel" experiences. By imbricating creative construction into learning, though, students like Calvin – who thrive when given the opportunity to imagine and to express themselves – can identify their "daydreaming" as a strength instead of a deficit. Suddenly, school becomes a place where they can be themselves, and where work does not feel like work. They become engaged by the freedom they have in this space. This approach works because it begins to uncouple the idea of "learning" from the negative associations many adolescents feel toward “school as obligation,” and instead allows them reconceptualize “school as play.”

The question then becomes: how do we facilitate

 unbridled creativity into a set curriculum? How can we, as educators, ensure that we still check all the boxes for what our students need to learn as "disciplinary experts," while allowing them the space for exploration and free expression? It feels like an exercise in duplicity, at times – like we are trying to "trick" students into learning.

The trick, as the comic above suggests, is to create a "safe" environment where students can try on new identities, float strange ideas, and give voice to the radical modes of thought to which so many previous teachers replied: "Shhh! It's time for learning, now." As Intrator & Kunzman point out, the most important component of "structuring" a learning environment is not the minute details of the structure itself, but to what extent educators remain sensitive to how their students feel about the teaching interaction.

By giving students a place to “play” with what they are learning, instead of asking them to “work” at it, perhaps we can help the daydreamers imagine themselves as good students, too.