Paul Kleiman

Why is it so damn hard to get rid of books?

There it sits in the middle of our hallway, awaiting departure to the local charity bookshop. A box full of books. Behind the picture is a tale of heartache and hesitation, each book the cause of ineffable uncertainty.

Why is it so damn difficult?

Stanislavski, the great theatre director, started his ‘method’ of actor training by asking the question ‘What if?’. Well, even the odd duplicate book (e.g. the Vera Brittain ‘Testament of Youth’), which ought to be a straighforward job of straight into the box, proved problematic.

“OK, we don’t need two of the same….but what if?….”. And a whole number of possible scenarios unfold as the book in my hand hangs in limbo between shelf and box.

We have far too many books. No. Correction. We have far too many books for the size of our house (and it’s not a small house). And we have books that we shall never….sorry….that it is highly unlikely that I or we shall ever read again. But yet, as the eye and the hand travel across the serried ranks of fact and fiction, art and science, politics and philosophy, plays and poety, education and entertainment, and a plethora of other categories including miscellaneous, it is so easy to keep on moving, to avoid the obvious decision, to keep the box’s destiny unfulfilled.

Admittedly, there’s one decision that is easy to make: it’s not my book. It’s my wife’s or my daughter’s or my son’s. (The last of those has, anyway, always taken a minimalist approach to books – at least in tangible paper form. The shelves in his room are, however, full…..of my books).

Recently I read an article by someone who had managed to get their collection of several hundred books down to 20. Their ‘light bulb’ moment was the realization that “I was not so much attached to the stories and words themselves, but the physical books sitting on the shelves. Once I had that realization, I began to let go of some of my books”.

My problem is precisely that I AM attached to the fact of the books sitting there on the shelf. Their very presence comforts and reassures me. But it’s a bit more than that. Each one – and I’ve read or certainly delved into all of them at one time or another – contains a little bit of me, my history. Each title contains and reflects back to me a fragment of my life, a moment in time. Each one has – to a lesser or greater degree – a sort of Proustian ‘Madeleine’ biscuit effect, conjuring up the past.

Nevertheless, notwithstanding the above, I managed to fill that single box. The key to selecting those few books (and I inspected every shelf we have) was that each one was entirely silent in relation to my life. A closed book, literally and metaphorically.

It seems once I get beyond the obvious ‘keeps’…and I suspect there’s already too many of them, I’m stuck with ’emotional resonance’ as the key criteria. Perhaps books, like dogs, are “not just for Christmas but for life”.

Straight to the Core: Gove, the Arts and the Core Curriculum

Nelson Mandela said that “Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world”, which is why politicians can’t help but meddle.

Here in the UK, with a long and – with a few notable exceptions – inglorious history of political meddling in the education of our children and young people, we currently have an über-meddler in the shape of Michael Gove (pictured), the Secretary of State for Education.

Mr. Gove is convinced, with the passion of the true zealot, that our education system is broken and that it needs a complete overhaul. He is particularly obsessed with the need for a ‘core curriculum’ which essentially takes us back to the 3R’s with some science and technology attached. I have nothing personal against young people being able to read, write and count. Actually I think it’s quite important. I think science and technology are important. But I do object strongly when – in order to achieve his ambition – Mr Gove decides that the arts are an irrelevancy when it comes to the content of his ‘core curriculum’.

Mr. Gove is an intelligent man. After all he was a leading journalist on The Times, and therefore ought to be used to ensuring that he quotes his sources accurately. Well, he keeps going on about how his ideas for this arts-free ‘core curriculum’ are informed by his admiration for the Massachusetts Common Core of Learning. As well he might be. The education system in Massachusetts is at the top of the US educational league tables.

Now, I don’t know if Mr. Gove has actually read the Massachusetts Common Core of Learning, or whether – returning to his journalistic habits – he is studiously ignoring the inconvenient truth. But there, in the Massachusetts Common Core of Learning, in stark black and white, is the following:

“All students should:
Acquire, Integrate and Apply Essential Knowledge (in)
– Literature and Language
– Mathematics, Science and Technology
– Social studies, History and Geography
– Visual and Performing Arts
– Health

Under ‘Visual and Performing Arts’ there is:
– Know and understand the nature of the creative process, the characteristics of visual art, music, dance and theatre, and their importance in shaping and reflecting historical and cultural heritage.
– Analyze and make informed judgments regarding the arts.
– Develop skills and participate in the arts for personal growth and enjoyment.

Under Literature and Language:
– Read a rich variety of literary works including fiction, poetry, drama and nonfiction from different time periods and cultures, relating them to human aspirations and life experiences.
– Analyze implications of literary works, and communicate them through speaking, writing, artistic and other means of expression.

All students should:
Use Mathematics, the Arts, Computers and Other Technologies Effectively
– Apply mathematical skills to interpret information and solve problems.
– Use the arts to explore and express ideas, feelings and beliefs.
– Use computers and other technologies to obtain, organize and communicate information and to solve problems.
– Develop and present conclusions through speaking, writing, artistic and other means of expression.

In 2006, UNESCO declared: “International declarations and conventions aim at securing for every child and adult the right to education and to opportunities that will ensure full and harmonious development and participation in cultural and artistic life. The basic rationale for making Arts Education an important and, indeed, compulsory part of the educational programme in any country emerges from these rights. Culture and the arts are essential components of a comprehensive education leading to the full development of the individual. Therefore, Arts Education is a universal human right, for all learners” (The Road Map for Arts Education,p3)

Please note the “essential components of a comprehensive education”. Perhaps Mr. Gove’s dislike of arts education derives from his antipathy to the word ‘comprehensive’?

Why I’m stumbling with confidence

A few people have asked me why this blog is called ‘Stumbling with Confidence’?

The phrase stems originally from my research into university teachers’ conceptions and experiences of creativity in relation to learning and teaching, and I have used it in various papers and conference keynotes.

My research entailed interviewing a number of colleagues from across a range of disciplines – from the arts to the sciences and various disciplines in between. I would always start the interview by asking them to tell me about an experience in learning and teaching that they would consider was a creative experience for them. In a number of cases that question prompted a sort of rabbit-in-the-headlight stare, as if to say “What the hell has creativity got to do with teaching?”. But inevitably they would eventually identify and begin to talk about a particular experience.

At some point I always asked them what prompted them to go down that particular road? Almost everyone I interviewed either said, or said something along the lines of ‘I stumbled across something’.

Probing deeper into this revealed that the mere act of ‘stumbling across something’ is not sufficient in itself. After all, we stumble across potentially useful stuff all the time. The key factor in enabling them to seize the moment was a sense of confidence: the confidence to believe it might be the right thing to do, the confidence to believe it might just work, the confidence to believe that it was worth whatever risk was attached to it, the confidence to believe it was worth giving it go.

As the debates swirl around skills v. passing exams, education for life v. training for work, the intrinsic value of education v. its extrinsic worth, very few seem to be talking about attributes like confidence, and asking how we might educate and work in partnership with our young (and often not-so-young) students to enable them to face – with a steadfast eye, a steady hand, and a keen, informed, open mind – the uncertainties that a complex, rapidly-changing world will inevitably throw at them.

The poet Antonio Machado famously wrote:

Wanderer, there is no path.
The path forms itself as you walk it.

Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar.

At least one of our tasks as educators is to ensure that we have done our best to enable our students – as each forms amd forges their individual path – to stumble confidently towards not only whatever lies around the next bend but beyond the horizon.