Are We Teaching Our Kids The Art Of Despair?

I have been a professional theatre-maker for almost thirty years. In that time I’ve faced a lot of creative challenges but none so great as last year when I was asked to facilitate a brain-storming session involving some of Victoria’s leading math and science educators as well as scientists and mathematicians working in industry.

The brief was simply to generate some ideas — potential connections between real-world projects and the school curriculum. No pressure. No outcomes yet; a round-table gathering of minds to toss some thoughts about and explore synergies – which, if compelling enough, would lead to further discussion and exploration.

On one level I seemed an odd choice to facilitate the discussion – but my experience in leading creating processes was considered just what the forum needed.

I started with an invitation to the participants to toss areas of interest around. Of course getting a room full of strangers engaged in conversation is always a challenge. With this in mind I came prepared with my own research about projects involving robotics, medicine, agriculture and aerospace; as well a good dose of novice enthusiasm and curiosity to break the ice and get the ball rolling.

To make things even easier I was clear that no suggestion would be considered too crazy or impractical at this early stage. For the uninitiated (are there any?) brainstorming involves the various participants listing their own “offers” or “early ideas” and musings – which, when gathered on a whiteboard lead to further discussion, sparking other ideas and conversation. It’s an ignition point for a collective sharing of knowledge and thinking, no more, no less.

Once this stage is completed you can then sift through these ideas – applying various criteria and secondary filters, discussing the pros and cons etc before focusing on those that seem the most compelling. But before you get to this critical thinking stage — you allow the collective stream of creative consciousness to ebb and flow. In theatre jargon we call it “not blocking”. In education terms – “no black hats”.

The scientists didn’t bat an eyelid. The randomness and freedom inherent in the process was seemingly second nature to them. The senior educators could not have presented a greater obstacle to the process had they brought picks, shovels and dug a fortified trench.

So what was the sticking point? The educators couldn’t get past the question “how do we do this?” “What will it look like in the classroom”? Not only that – they had brought no homework with them. A week before the meeting I had sent a detailed brief asking them to bring along an idea of two – nothing onerous. Remember these were some of our leading educators – and they came unprepared to engage with the process. Instead the scientists and yours truly had to endure two hours of procrastination and obfuscation. The educators simply could not bring themselves to the process because the “how do we do this?” — “Why should we do this?” “How would this even work?” Wouldn’t allow for us to explore “What are the possibilities?”

But wait a minute. Wasn’t their reaction perfectly reasonable – and somewhat sensible? Perhaps – but consider the context again. There were no outcomes being sought. The only thing we were being asked to do was explore potential synergies and to “play with ideas” in the hope of finding a few that were compelling. But while the educators accepted the premise that it was a good idea to connect real-world projects and the curriculum – they exhibited all the anxiety of someone on a blind date, terrified their companion would suddenly hand-cuff them to the table, produce a celebrant from the kitchen and force them into marriage between main course and dessert. (By the way we only had chicken sandwiches and coffee).

With that fear of commitment urging them on – as well as the irrational lack of control and fear it produced; they became obsessed with outcomes and all the obstacles that lay in the path of reaching those outcomes. Either that or they simply hadn’t been taught to think creatively – so were incapable of participating and floundering in the situation. (Meanwhile the scientists and one artist in the room were just hoping to toss some ideas about and then enjoy the catering). Either way the question begs: Was this just one unfortunate meeting? Or is it indicative of an overall disconnect between educators and creative thinkers?

In my experience, having worked with hundreds of educators and students, the intransigence and fear was nothing new. Our schools constantly ring with the buzzword word creativity — But I have met few who understand what it actually means – or embrace its values — because they prefer control.

The fact is most people instinctively want to know the answer to a question the moment they ask it. But a true creative process is brave enough to ask the question without knowing the answer; then employ a process to discover it — knowing the answer might not be the one you’re looking for —  but something else – perhaps something even better.

True creativity is about relinquishing control in the short-term, embracing the risk of miss-takes, (no that’s not a spelling error – I’m being creative) experiencing miss-takes, before finally arriving at a destination outside of your existing paradigm.

This is why the DNA of artists and scientists are so closely related and why one practice informs the other. (It’s also why a strong arts curriculum in primary and early secondary schooling is so important – it prepares the developing brain to “think” like a scientist).

When I’m creating a new piece of theatre it always begins the same way. I stare in to the abyss not knowing the answers – armed only with my instinct, an initial idea, my passion and a process. (How many scientists reading this article relate to that?) The process has a structure – and to be successful that structure must always embrace the key elements of creativity; randomness, association, blind alleys, glorious failure, discovery then the application of structure and skill – finally leading to an outcome.

Without these elements, the theatrical alchemy will never reach beyond my existing experience, because new ideas reveal themselves through exploration and association.  Instead I’ll be stuck with what I already know, what I can already imagine; destined to repeat myself, applying the same solution over and over to completely different challenges.

Let’s face it. People love structure and loathe not knowing. Fear urges us to repeat the architecture of our successes – even when they no longer apply — but to be creative, you have to be able to traverse this state of not knowing – until you find what it is you’re actually looking for. A true creative process involves a tango of randomness and association –- entwined with structure and skill. This is the very essence of innovation.

So is this process of creativity prevalent in our school system? And if not — why aren’t students being taught the science and skills of true innovation? Or if it is – where is being taught successfully and where are the benchmarks?

Give a person a fish and you feed them for a day. Teach a person to fish and you feed them for a lifetime. But what if the river that they’re fishing from dries up? You teach that person to think creatively, resourcefully – (and make no mistake, it is a skill that can be taught) then that person is capable of surviving. Surviving the loss of a river and finding another food source, of losing a job and retraining themselves, of discovering a way out of a difficult problem without running away from it.

Think of the countless situations we find ourselves in every day — in which we feel trapped. The volume of social problems presented by children who grow into adults who haven’t learned how to think their way out of these problems. Hopelessness has many contributing factors, economic, social – but being taught to “think” in a truly creative way from childhood makes us capable of developing strategies to change our circumstances – and most importantly  – to have confidence in ourselves that we can.

Creativity is more than just painting flowers or a cool new video clip on you-tube. It is a process that provides hope – and a path for self-improvement. It’s an antidote for despair, a key to enlightenment, self-empowerment and a healthier, more focused and altruistic society. Perhaps this is why artists and scientists co-exist in a shared desire to shift paradigms, not be imprisoned by them. The challenge for our educators is to trust, experience, learn for themselves and then work alongside artists and scientists — to teach these same processes to our kids — for in the risk will come the reward.