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Kreative Schocks,
Creative Shocks: A German Weekend with English sixth-formers and students Ein deutsches Wochenende mit englischen Primanern und Studenten Edited by Henrik Eger and John Roberts Herausgegeben von Henrik Eger und John Roberts Department of Language and Linguistics, University of Essex, May 1977 Sprach- und Linguistikabteilung der Universität Essex, Mai 1977 Table of Contents/Inhaltsverzeichnis Paddy O'Toole, Forward John Roberts, Free Learning Experiences (English summary) Wolfgang Fauser, Wie war's wirklich?/What was it really like? Henrik Eger, Creative Writing in a Foreign Language Hanne Wehner, Kurzkommentar (zu den meisten Gedichten)/Short comments (to most of the poems) Photos: Barbara Huckerby-Hall. Title page: Henrik Eger at a typewriter, surrounded by British sixth-formers (HS seniors). Drawings: John Ross. Graphic: Dolores Meyer. |
Free Learning Experiences
By John T. Roberts
This contribution reports that the “academic weekend” was introduced into the Department of Language and Linguistics three years ago by Paddy O’Toole. Students and teachers withdraw to a country house about three times a year to pursue a topic or subject of mutual interest. Within this framework, so far we have held two weekends devoted to languages – one to French, one to German.
The subject of this publication is the German Weekend held at Wiccan Bonhunt in February 1977. This was a special weekend not only because it brought forth the creative work reproduced here, but because it followed on with a new and experimental approach to language teaching and learning pioneered in Nancy, France in 1972-73.
This approach developed in France was called the session libre (literal translation: “free session,” more meaningful translation “free learning experiences”).
Briefly, the aim of session libre or an opportunity for “free learning experiences” is to put the language learner in a rich linguistic environment in which, by virtue of engaging in various language-centered activities of his choice, he can experiment with language without the fear that he is being constantly “checked up on” or that he will be penalized as soon as he makes an error. The learner is encouraged to learn for himself as far as possible, but also to integrate with the other learners around him and to take part in corporate and cooperative learning.
The language presented to the learner is embedded in meaningful contexts and conveyed via authentic, completely “un-doctored” materials, from films and newspapers to radio interviews and language games. The role of the teacher in this environment is one of helper or “animator,” not of “ring-master.” The learner may seek help from the teacher whenever he wishes.
At the German Weekend these principles were translated into practice–through the various activities–in a way slightly different from the pattern developed in France, but they remained the same principles.
The German Weekend proved greatly successful, by which it is meant that the participants not only felt they had learned something valuable, and were consequently encouraged in their German studies, but also manifested their learning–and the problems and joys of learning–in their creative output, reproduced here.
We would be pleased to hear from others trying out the same approach as ourselves or interested in trying it out
By John T. Roberts
This contribution reports that the “academic weekend” was introduced into the Department of Language and Linguistics three years ago by Paddy O’Toole. Students and teachers withdraw to a country house about three times a year to pursue a topic or subject of mutual interest. Within this framework, so far we have held two weekends devoted to languages – one to French, one to German.
The subject of this publication is the German Weekend held at Wiccan Bonhunt in February 1977. This was a special weekend not only because it brought forth the creative work reproduced here, but because it followed on with a new and experimental approach to language teaching and learning pioneered in Nancy, France in 1972-73.
This approach developed in France was called the session libre (literal translation: “free session,” more meaningful translation “free learning experiences”).
Briefly, the aim of session libre or an opportunity for “free learning experiences” is to put the language learner in a rich linguistic environment in which, by virtue of engaging in various language-centered activities of his choice, he can experiment with language without the fear that he is being constantly “checked up on” or that he will be penalized as soon as he makes an error. The learner is encouraged to learn for himself as far as possible, but also to integrate with the other learners around him and to take part in corporate and cooperative learning.
The language presented to the learner is embedded in meaningful contexts and conveyed via authentic, completely “un-doctored” materials, from films and newspapers to radio interviews and language games. The role of the teacher in this environment is one of helper or “animator,” not of “ring-master.” The learner may seek help from the teacher whenever he wishes.
At the German Weekend these principles were translated into practice–through the various activities–in a way slightly different from the pattern developed in France, but they remained the same principles.
The German Weekend proved greatly successful, by which it is meant that the participants not only felt they had learned something valuable, and were consequently encouraged in their German studies, but also manifested their learning–and the problems and joys of learning–in their creative output, reproduced here.
We would be pleased to hear from others trying out the same approach as ourselves or interested in trying it out
Starting a new journey: Creative writing in a foreign language
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Creative Writing in a Foreign Language
By Henrik Eger Introduction The following is a brief account of what happened at the “Creative Writing” Workshop, plus a few more theoretical observations by some psychologists and educationalists. In a way, the “German Weekend” and the poems in this collection seem to confirm Adler’s view1 that each individual is creative and can come to full maturity, especially in cooperation with others. Schools Can Damage Creativity It has been found that a lot of conventional education is time wasting and uncongenial to independent spirits (2). Several observers have criticized some of the usual practices in school as a neglect of and damage to creativity (3). |
It therefore does not come as a real surprise to find that even the “Incorporated Association of Assistant Masters in Secondary Schools,” in their semi-official publication The Teaching of Modern Languages (4) (in which one finds four entries under “discipline” and over 70 entries on “examinations”) has not made a single mention of “creativity,” or “poetry,” or of “language and music.” This attitude, extreme as it may seem, can be found in many handbooks on foreign language teaching. If opinions are voiced, they often assert that creativity, if at all possible, could only be found either in the student’s mother tongue or not until complete mastery of the foreign language is reached (5).
The reality of FL teaching in today’s British comprehensive schools is apparently so poor that the official investigators (Her Majesty’s Inspectorate) published a devastating report, registering their “grave cause for concern about what was happening.” Even the more able pupils were suffering from bad teaching:
In general, their very considerable powers of aural comprehension remained largely underdeveloped; they were not taught to speak the language with flexibility and discrimination but tended to operate mechanically at a low and often trivial level . . . and written work, instead of requiring personal and lively self-expression, was all too often dull, mechanical, and undemanding. Furthermore, these pupils were rarely taught to use their initiative.6
Cited as some of the possible causes for the poor results were the
pedestrians, over-cautious teaching and the natural eagerness to ensure good examination results combines to produce patterns of work in which the students was instructed rather than stimulated, encouraged, narrowly to follow the examination programme rather than to extend his latent powers of independent work and thought.7
There were, however, a few exceptional teachers who “did not regard their pupils as passive recipients of knowledge, but as active participants in the teaching-learning process who needed to use their own initiative.”8 One school was traced in which the “pupils were encouraged to improve upon their own performance rather than to compete with each other”9—creative writing, by its very definition, could hardly be dragged into the competition trap. But what is required, even in this field, is hard work, both by students and teachers,10 without which the individual could not learn to stretch him/herself linguistically, for
whatever other educational and social benefits may be conferred by the learning of a modern foreign language, the first requirement is that pupils should be producing work at a level and of a quality appropriate to their potential. 11
Another school is cited in which “some outstanding writing”12 in a foreign language is found. On the whole, however, “the achievement of the 83 schools in the [representative] sample is in no way commensurate with the human and physical resources devoted to the work.”13 This collection, it is hoped, will demonstrate what can be done even in a short space of time.
The supportive literature on creative writing in a foreign language appears to be sporadic and difficult to find. Of the few positive and encouraging accounts of creative writing in a foreign language, F.L. Billows probably has made some of the most constructive contributions by suggesting, amongst other things, that creative writing should be started as early as possible—though always, of course, within the capacity of the foreign language learner, however limited his or her vocabulary and knowledge of syntax may be.14 Indeed, if children (and adults) are endowed with creative capacities, it is the task of those in education to recognize these talents and to further them.15
In order for individual teachers to get involved in this sometimes rather difficult, if not to say delicate, task it is of the utmost importance that the basic conditions for creativity exist: psychological safety and freedom.16 Taking it on a more global level one could add “social safety” and “freedom from economic-political tensions.” While the latter is not in the hands of the teach as such, the psychological aspect frequently is. And it is here that teachers help their pupils discover the undiscovered within themselves.17
To what extent creative writing in a foreign language can involve the full personality of the individual may be gauged from some of the poems in this collection. If I may cite two examples it would be “Die Vergangenheit” (“The Past”) by D. Meyer and “Nordirland . . . “ (“Northern Ireland . . .”) by M. Hunter, both of whom are dedicated to another person and written in a very personal way. This involvement and commitment can come over very strongly, even in a foreign language. I vividly remember those moments, at around 4 a.m., when I saw one of the English participants at the “German Weekend” (who was so shy that he had up till then hardly opened his mouth), copy the German text of the “Irish” poem. He told me later how moved he was by those 12 lines. Clearly, the foreign language here was no barrier’ on the contrary, it seemed to make for a genuine intercommunication.
The reality of FL teaching in today’s British comprehensive schools is apparently so poor that the official investigators (Her Majesty’s Inspectorate) published a devastating report, registering their “grave cause for concern about what was happening.” Even the more able pupils were suffering from bad teaching:
In general, their very considerable powers of aural comprehension remained largely underdeveloped; they were not taught to speak the language with flexibility and discrimination but tended to operate mechanically at a low and often trivial level . . . and written work, instead of requiring personal and lively self-expression, was all too often dull, mechanical, and undemanding. Furthermore, these pupils were rarely taught to use their initiative.6
Cited as some of the possible causes for the poor results were the
pedestrians, over-cautious teaching and the natural eagerness to ensure good examination results combines to produce patterns of work in which the students was instructed rather than stimulated, encouraged, narrowly to follow the examination programme rather than to extend his latent powers of independent work and thought.7
There were, however, a few exceptional teachers who “did not regard their pupils as passive recipients of knowledge, but as active participants in the teaching-learning process who needed to use their own initiative.”8 One school was traced in which the “pupils were encouraged to improve upon their own performance rather than to compete with each other”9—creative writing, by its very definition, could hardly be dragged into the competition trap. But what is required, even in this field, is hard work, both by students and teachers,10 without which the individual could not learn to stretch him/herself linguistically, for
whatever other educational and social benefits may be conferred by the learning of a modern foreign language, the first requirement is that pupils should be producing work at a level and of a quality appropriate to their potential. 11
Another school is cited in which “some outstanding writing”12 in a foreign language is found. On the whole, however, “the achievement of the 83 schools in the [representative] sample is in no way commensurate with the human and physical resources devoted to the work.”13 This collection, it is hoped, will demonstrate what can be done even in a short space of time.
The supportive literature on creative writing in a foreign language appears to be sporadic and difficult to find. Of the few positive and encouraging accounts of creative writing in a foreign language, F.L. Billows probably has made some of the most constructive contributions by suggesting, amongst other things, that creative writing should be started as early as possible—though always, of course, within the capacity of the foreign language learner, however limited his or her vocabulary and knowledge of syntax may be.14 Indeed, if children (and adults) are endowed with creative capacities, it is the task of those in education to recognize these talents and to further them.15
In order for individual teachers to get involved in this sometimes rather difficult, if not to say delicate, task it is of the utmost importance that the basic conditions for creativity exist: psychological safety and freedom.16 Taking it on a more global level one could add “social safety” and “freedom from economic-political tensions.” While the latter is not in the hands of the teach as such, the psychological aspect frequently is. And it is here that teachers help their pupils discover the undiscovered within themselves.17
To what extent creative writing in a foreign language can involve the full personality of the individual may be gauged from some of the poems in this collection. If I may cite two examples it would be “Die Vergangenheit” (“The Past”) by D. Meyer and “Nordirland . . . “ (“Northern Ireland . . .”) by M. Hunter, both of whom are dedicated to another person and written in a very personal way. This involvement and commitment can come over very strongly, even in a foreign language. I vividly remember those moments, at around 4 a.m., when I saw one of the English participants at the “German Weekend” (who was so shy that he had up till then hardly opened his mouth), copy the German text of the “Irish” poem. He told me later how moved he was by those 12 lines. Clearly, the foreign language here was no barrier’ on the contrary, it seemed to make for a genuine intercommunication.
Freedom and experiment
Just as the teaching of a technical subject usually requires a technically minded instructor, so the process of creating learning requires creative teaching.18 Or, compressed to a formula: students are as good as their teachers—the more creative a teacher the greater the chance that his/her pupils will develop in this direction. This means, however, giving up some more traditional notions, e.g., the idea that everybody has to write on the same subject, at the same length, and at the same time.19 It is only sensible to create the conditions for creativity and then to wait for the pupils’ reserve to burst.20 Creativity can’t be forced but should be fostered21 individually. It should go without saying that a teacher’s faith in his/her pupils is absolutely vital for any creativity to develop.
Once the ground is laid, there is a chance for originality—the process of getting away from the obvious to the unusual (22)—to develop. There are a number of examples in this collection, including C.-L. Oliver’s “Schwitterlinge” (“Twutterflies”)—a creation which probably owes more to chance and flying through language freely, than to a conscious process of word-making. It is this playfulness, this freedom to experiment, which is very conducive to any originality. I suggested to use of poetry as the main form of creative writing at the weekend as this form of expression can include “a great deal more information and imaginatively realized experience in a few lines than could normally be crammed into as many pages of a prose narrative.”23
To highlight the point make above, I should like to contrast Phil Wright’s highly original “Salon-Gespräche” (“Salon-Conversations”)
His pretty-as-as-picture
Wife
And her sherry bottle
Lady friends,
With their medium sweet
Smiles
And dresses
Of glass,
And their decorative
Dogs
From silky salons,
With their thorny lips,
Chitting, chatting,
Chatting, chitting,
Nibbling, compliments
And sipping, sipping
Gossip . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
with a run-of-the-mill prose description of the same events:
At the party there was the host and his pretty wife, who looked very picturesque and there were all her lady friends who smiled sweetly. They were all wearing sexy dresses and even their dogs looked decorative. The ladies had a good time just chatting and paying each other compliments, but also spreading gossip.24
Maybe some of the contributions to this collection prove the theory that poetry can give “a further opportunity for those elements of the personality to develop which may remain underdeveloped in a narrowly intellectual curriculum.”25 It is up to the individual teacher, however, to make use of this insight—together with his/her pupils.
Just as the teaching of a technical subject usually requires a technically minded instructor, so the process of creating learning requires creative teaching.18 Or, compressed to a formula: students are as good as their teachers—the more creative a teacher the greater the chance that his/her pupils will develop in this direction. This means, however, giving up some more traditional notions, e.g., the idea that everybody has to write on the same subject, at the same length, and at the same time.19 It is only sensible to create the conditions for creativity and then to wait for the pupils’ reserve to burst.20 Creativity can’t be forced but should be fostered21 individually. It should go without saying that a teacher’s faith in his/her pupils is absolutely vital for any creativity to develop.
Once the ground is laid, there is a chance for originality—the process of getting away from the obvious to the unusual (22)—to develop. There are a number of examples in this collection, including C.-L. Oliver’s “Schwitterlinge” (“Twutterflies”)—a creation which probably owes more to chance and flying through language freely, than to a conscious process of word-making. It is this playfulness, this freedom to experiment, which is very conducive to any originality. I suggested to use of poetry as the main form of creative writing at the weekend as this form of expression can include “a great deal more information and imaginatively realized experience in a few lines than could normally be crammed into as many pages of a prose narrative.”23
To highlight the point make above, I should like to contrast Phil Wright’s highly original “Salon-Gespräche” (“Salon-Conversations”)
His pretty-as-as-picture
Wife
And her sherry bottle
Lady friends,
With their medium sweet
Smiles
And dresses
Of glass,
And their decorative
Dogs
From silky salons,
With their thorny lips,
Chitting, chatting,
Chatting, chitting,
Nibbling, compliments
And sipping, sipping
Gossip . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
with a run-of-the-mill prose description of the same events:
At the party there was the host and his pretty wife, who looked very picturesque and there were all her lady friends who smiled sweetly. They were all wearing sexy dresses and even their dogs looked decorative. The ladies had a good time just chatting and paying each other compliments, but also spreading gossip.24
Maybe some of the contributions to this collection prove the theory that poetry can give “a further opportunity for those elements of the personality to develop which may remain underdeveloped in a narrowly intellectual curriculum.”25 It is up to the individual teacher, however, to make use of this insight—together with his/her pupils.
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Workshop-atmosphere
A few years ago, teaching German at an English comprehensive school [Therfield School, Leatherhead, Surrey], I tried to change the classroom atmosphere into that of a workshop to encourage creative writing.26 The results were quite positive, although still slightly hampered by the general role expectancy (pupil/teacher). Outsiders, brought into the classroom can perhaps help to break the ice more quickly, especially if they are as qualified as the “Poets in School” who, upon invitation, run informal workshops in which they encourage the use of language like clay, thereby making it |
Pencils made of recycled newspapers
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possible for the youngsters “to USE their discoveries in language practically as well as artistically.” 27 To my knowledge, no equivalent for workshops for creative writing in a foreign language exists in this country [U.K., 1977].
We (Department of Language and Linguistics at Essex University) tried to experiment by starting afresh—outside school buildings and school hours. This we attempted at the “German Weekend” in Wicken Bonhunt/Essex (11-13 Feb. 1977). From the very beginning we tried to make it more like a working holiday than an extension of foreign language teaching. We offered a great variety of different activities (singing German songs, watching films, having discussions, playing German games, having a quiz, etc.). Quite a few of these took place simultaneously, spread over most of the available rooms. The [British] students could walk around freely and could do their “educational shopping”—the only price they were asked to pay was to speak German throughout the whole weekend.
We (Department of Language and Linguistics at Essex University) tried to experiment by starting afresh—outside school buildings and school hours. This we attempted at the “German Weekend” in Wicken Bonhunt/Essex (11-13 Feb. 1977). From the very beginning we tried to make it more like a working holiday than an extension of foreign language teaching. We offered a great variety of different activities (singing German songs, watching films, having discussions, playing German games, having a quiz, etc.). Quite a few of these took place simultaneously, spread over most of the available rooms. The [British] students could walk around freely and could do their “educational shopping”—the only price they were asked to pay was to speak German throughout the whole weekend.
Wicken House, Wicken Bonhunt, Essex, Conference center from 1945-2007
One of the German assistants observed: “people joined the activities in an equal number . . . there was no one who tried to avoid joining any group.”28 Speaking in another language was encouraged very naturally by the fairly large number of native German speakers (proportion ca. 1:4) whose active participation clearly contributed to an atmosphere which could be described as free and easy; as one of them observed: “It all seemed just fun and this probably made it.”29 The general enthusiasm certainly helped tremendously, especially in the creative writing workshop, which was perhaps the most demanding, in that a lot of work had to be done before a poem could be called a poem.
It has been observed that poetry in schools is frequently presented as either something very precious or as something dreadful.30 Either of which, of course, can kill this form of human expression very quickly. Indeed, poetry can be a waste of time if it is not enjoyable in one way or another.31 Our English sixth-formers and first year undergraduates, however, were so keen to try out whatever there was on offer that their willingness to participate and contribute, finally made the whole venture worthwhile and quickly turned the Victorian house into a MACHENSPASSZUSAMMENHAUS (HavingFunTogetherHouse).32
It has been observed that poetry in schools is frequently presented as either something very precious or as something dreadful.30 Either of which, of course, can kill this form of human expression very quickly. Indeed, poetry can be a waste of time if it is not enjoyable in one way or another.31 Our English sixth-formers and first year undergraduates, however, were so keen to try out whatever there was on offer that their willingness to participate and contribute, finally made the whole venture worthwhile and quickly turned the Victorian house into a MACHENSPASSZUSAMMENHAUS (HavingFunTogetherHouse).32
Creativity versus creative shocks
But how did this happen? While there remain things in a creative process which are (as yet) inexplicable, there are a number of steps which, if taken, could increase the chances of getting good results. I began by cutting a roll of paper (black, red, and gold, representing the German language) into regular strips, falling into a wastepaper basket: linguistic (school) exercises being wasted. Then I picked up some of them and turned them into a montage, which was shown around. After that I put the scissors aside and tore pieces from the “language” roll, making a much more imaginative montage.
Then I pointed at all the German handbooks, dictionaries, Duden, etc., which were lying on the large table in the centre of the room and encouraged everybody to experiment with language as freely as I had done with the paper. To overcome the general disbelief that this was at all possible, I showed them how one can try to turn even the most basic material into a poem. . . . *
Source: Kreative Schocks–Creative Shocks: A German Weekend with English Sixth-Formers and Students. Edited by Henrik Eger and John Roberts. University of Essex, May 1977.
*If all goes well, the full version of this book might get published later this year.
But how did this happen? While there remain things in a creative process which are (as yet) inexplicable, there are a number of steps which, if taken, could increase the chances of getting good results. I began by cutting a roll of paper (black, red, and gold, representing the German language) into regular strips, falling into a wastepaper basket: linguistic (school) exercises being wasted. Then I picked up some of them and turned them into a montage, which was shown around. After that I put the scissors aside and tore pieces from the “language” roll, making a much more imaginative montage.
Then I pointed at all the German handbooks, dictionaries, Duden, etc., which were lying on the large table in the centre of the room and encouraged everybody to experiment with language as freely as I had done with the paper. To overcome the general disbelief that this was at all possible, I showed them how one can try to turn even the most basic material into a poem. . . . *
Source: Kreative Schocks–Creative Shocks: A German Weekend with English Sixth-Formers and Students. Edited by Henrik Eger and John Roberts. University of Essex, May 1977.
*If all goes well, the full version of this book might get published later this year.
