Thursday, 26 September 2024

Being constant and relentless: our words matter

Way way back in my late teens and early twenties I served in the Territorial Army, 1 Squadron, NZ Scottish Regiment to be precise. We drove those M113 Armoured Personal Carriers. It wasn't all marching, in fact was a lot of fun. But soldiers were always 'marched' from one place to another. When in a more formal 'camp' situation an NCO would take command of the squad to march us from one place to another, and as NCOs we learned the skill of commanding a squad. 


Source: https://natlib.govt.nz/records/22712622


You would call out commands (obviously), like "'eft 'ight 'eft 'ight 'eft 'ight eeefffft" (that's quite difficult to write down phonetically, but you get the idea). You would also call out what might be called 'coaching commands' like "heads up, swing those arms straight through front to rear" and so on. If you didn't, then the marching could become quite slovenly, and the moment you did you could see the members of the squad up the ante, pick up their game, stand tall, and it often applied regardless of how experienced the squad members were. I'd hasten to add that when 'on parade', on the parade ground, it was different. You knew you had to put in your best effort then, otherwise you'd be answering to some towering Regimental Sergeant Major who would tear you limb from limb (figuratively speaking).

I think that in anything in life we all need that little bit of coaching to remind us what to do, regardless of how experienced we are. I was reminded of this recently. In my Acting Principal role I have spoken often about creativity, about it's importance, about its impact, about the need to take risks if we are to be creative, and about the need to model risk taking and creativity with our learners if we want them to be creative too. I've tried to model one way in which that might look with staff.

As this piece of my own mahi comes to an end, I received a lovely email from a colleague, in which they said this:
"Your reminders to be creative have reignited something I’d lost too and for that I’m grateful. The creativity had gotten lost in all the other stuff but it’s back and I’ll make sure it stays."
Working in schools is tiring and demanding, messy, and chaotic at times. It's easy to forget those things that perhaps brought us to the profession. It's easy to lose sight of the 'essential us'. We can lose them in the fog of busyness and fatigue. It's easy to forget the need to feed our own selves, to feed our own sense of creativity. Without that, it's hard to see how we could or would nurture creativity amongst our learners.

Source: https://www.slideshare.net/slideshow/creativity-in-school-education/80737187


One feature of my attempts at leadership has been to try to be deliberate and intentional, constant and relentless, in voicing what I think is important, about how I think we can make the biggest difference. Also I always try to keep the number of different messages as small as possible. You can't do it all at once. I hasten to add that I try to ensure that my views are evidence informed, not simply 'random reckons'. There may be a little too much of that in our profession at times.  
 

Thursday, 19 September 2024

Creativity and pedagogy

I've been working out at Darfield High School in mid Canterbury in term 3, standing in for the awesome Andy while he takes a well deserved sabbatical. It has meant the inevitable Newsletter columns, in which I have often espoused the case for creativity in schools. Here is this week's missive which I thought had wider relevance than just the Darfield community. 

I remember back in the ‘80’s (yes, I am that old) when I was working in the not-for-profit sector, and often had interactions with accountants. At about that time, if I remember correctly (and yes memory is indeed a dodgy thing), the Society of Accountants changed the university requirements for accountants. They required students to take at least one paper in their degrees that was NOT from the accounting area of the university curriculum. Take some art history, or some music, a language or a science or …. they said. I reckoned this was in recognition that maybe the stereotype of accountants that seemed to rule at the time had some basis in truth. Maybe. Maybe not. The point was that for accountants to do their job effectively they needed breadth in their learning and in their lives beyond just profit and loss statements and balance sheets. They needed a broader understanding of the world in which they worked, in which their business clients worked. They also needed the ability to better understand the nature of the businesses they served, and to be able to think more critically and creatively about all of those things in order to better advise and serve their clients.

I recently saw this sentiment in a meme that popped up on my Facebook feed:

“The true purpose of arts education is not necessarily to create more professional artists. (It’s) to create more complete human beings who are critical thinkers, who have curious minds, who can lead productive lives.”

I’ve heard it said that if we want better scientists, better managers, better engineers, better farmers etc then we need to ensure some exposure to the arts in school in whatever shape or form children and teens like. I’d go that step further and say that everyone benefits from the explicit inclusion of a focus on creativity. That will give us better scientists, better managers, better engineers, better farmers.

Which brings me to the education ‘P’ word: pedagogy. It’s a bit of a silly word, a piece of education jargon which just means ‘how we cause learning’. The refreshed AotearoaNZ curriculum (the refresh started several years ago) contains, for the first time that I can ever recall, an explicitly stated ‘pedagogy’: ‘Understand, Know, Do’. That is, it outlines a consistent and intentional framework for how schools and teachers will cause learning. It’s not a linear or sequential thing, and the fact that it includes the word ‘Know’ tells us that it places importance on ‘knowing stuff’ (about which many of you will breathe a sigh of relief, as do many teachers). ‘Knowing’ stuff might come from direct instruction (Hattie identifies this as still having a large effect size. That is, it’s still regarded as highly effective), or it might come from doing, which might be as simple as repetitive practice of exercises, or it could come from the act of creation. In education we do need to shift our practice to embrace a far wider range of ‘doing’ activities.

As an aside, that does leave us with the question of what we mean by ‘knowledge’. To most of us it probably means having recall from our own brains of facts, formulae, processes etc. In 2005 Jane Gilbert, researcher with NZ Council for Education Research, published a book called ‘Catching the knowledge wave’ in which she said that knowledge is now a verb, not a noun—something we do rather than something we have. That is, while we still need to have recall of facts, ideas, and processes, that’s no longer enough. She was saying that ‘knowledge’ is having that information in our brains, AND doing something with it. We want people who think creatively and critically about that ‘stuff’. You can’t think in a vacuum. You need to know stuff to be able to think about it.

What also matters is that the school’s pedagogy is made obvious for everyone (Tumuaki/Principals, teachers/kaiako, and learners/ako and whānau alike). It needs to be very visible for everyone to see, and teachers need to constantly ’unpack’ what it means and what it could look like.

In my previous principalship I lived, worked, and breathed, a slightly different pedagogy. That it was different doesn’t matter. What mattered was that we knew what it was, we knew how we did things in that kura, and we were deliberate and intentional in thinking about it, in unpacking it, in using it, to the benefit of all learners. And it worked!!!!!

My point is that this pedagogy (Understand, Know, Do) values creative thinking, and it values it across the whole curriculum, across the entire ‘lived experience’ of every learner.  That might be through an arts course, but it equally might be anywhere across the learning experiences of learners in every kura, every kura kaupapa, every ECE. This is visionary stuff. If we value creativity, if we are deliberate and intentional in making it a part of the experience of every learner, then one likely outcome is that we will indeed get even better scientists, even better managers, even better engineers, even better farmers. 


I’m all for that.