Unlocking Creativity: Lessons learned from being bi-vocational

UNLOCKINGCREATIVITY

LESSONS LEARNED FROM BEING BI-VOCATIONAL

By Emily Bridget Taylor

English Teacher

Three years ago, I made the decision to apply to teach part time. I was terrified. I was scared because it felt like a very counter cultural thing to do for someone in their mid-twenties (at least, in my mind it felt counter cultural). I felt a lot of social pressure to work as much as possible, to make as much money as possible, to buy a house as soon as possible, and then do whatever people who own houses do. Applying for a reduced teaching load felt audacious – especially given that I wanted to use the extra time to write a novel.

I recommend you do not tell anyone you are writing a novel, if you are. Keep it a secret. I didn’t and learnt the hard way that if people think you are odd for working less (especially when if you do not have kids – what will she do with the time?), when you add in that you are writing a novel, the awkwardness of the exchange increases tenfold. Oh, really? they ask quizzically, backing away like you are a specimen in a petri dish that might infect them. Luckily, All Saints’ did not see it as odd that I wanted more space in my life to explore my creativity. Instead, to my delight, they were enthusiastic about it. The approval letter arrived in my email inbox, and a whole new terrain – and way of life – opened up before me.

To say I learnt to use the extra time perfectly, straight away, would be a lie. It was strange to go from a highly structured workplace to developing a personal project within the freedom (and distractions!) of home. I am still trying to figure out what it looks like to effectively embody being bi-vocational: a writer and a teacher, at the same time. And while I have not figured out the perfect way to balance teaching with impressive daily word counts, what the last few years have taught me are invaluable lessons in what it means to develop your creativity. Over time, my adventures in exploring my own creativity greatly enriched my approach to fostering this important skill in my students.

Creativity has been increasingly identified as a skill, state of being, and mindset worth cultivating and measuring in the school system today, as it emerges into its modern iteration. The late Sir Ken Robinson acknowledged this when he wrote, “Creativity is as important as literacy.” It is one of the core capabilities we focus on at All Saints’ College in our mission to prepare students to make a positive difference in our world. Creativity, in my opinion, is simply the act of making something new, and I think that we only need to turn on the evening news to see that the 21st century presents immensely complex problems – problems that require new approaches to solve. Where do we start though, in terms of helping our young people develop this important capability?

IN MY QUEST TO OVERCOME THIS FEAR FOR MYSELF, THE ADVICE I GLEANED FROM OTHER WRITERS AND CREATORS HAD A COMMON THREAD.

Being in the position of writing every day gave me the opportunity to interrogate this conundrum. For a long time when I first started being bi-vocational, I suffered from writer’s block and a sense of shame, because I could not always seem to work on my book consistently. Some days, I would be ‘in the flow’. On others, I would stare at the blank page listlessly. These unproductive days were hard because I had taken on a financial sacrifice to write, and there I was struggling to actually do it. I had to learn how to create in an effective, sustainable way – in a way that meant I could go to bed at night feeling satisfied with my word count, and proud of the way I had shown up in the classroom.

I began to lean more into why I was struggling, and realised fear was at the core of it. Fear of getting it wrong, making a mess, and failing. The idea of writing something bad horrified me. The notion of someone reading my work if it was less than perfect stopped me from trying at all. Even the notion of me reading my own work, and not liking it, had the power to set on full writing paralysis. I see this same fear in my classroom. The fear of getting it wrong is a huge creative blocker for the English students with whom I have the privilege of working. In comprehension assessments, students often fear they are not reading an image or text correctly, so they will panic and write whatever comes to mind without brainstorming first. The same can be said for their approach at times to other classroom work – whether it be sharing an idea or going for a unique approach to a composition. The fear of getting it wrong can create a chokehold on making something new. It also prevents the important practise time that making a mess gifts them.

In my quest to overcome this fear for myself, the advice I gleaned from other writers and creators had a common thread. We can’t conquer the fear of failure until we are sure that it is safe to fail. We need assurance that we will not be met with disaster, ridicule, shame and hurt if we stuff things up. Now, we can never control the reactions of others to our creative ideas. We may in fact encounter very negative ‘reviews’ of our creations. How then do we make ‘failure’ safe? The answer that came to me, over time, was that you cannot control the reactions of others. What you can control is creating a safe space within for dealing with failure – an emotionally resilient inner world.

I have come to believe we will see powerful creators emerge within our young people in direct correlation with how resilient we empower them to be in the face of failure. Teaching creativity is not necessarily about fostering talent or encouraging only good ideas. It’s about building within young people an emotional capacity for risk taking. The more we nurture their resiliency and emotional health, the more creative risks they will feel safe to take, and the more power they will have to finish things and create sustainably over a long period of time.

When we normalise failure being a necessary and important part of the process, and refer back to this again and again, and vulnerably share when we ourselves do less than perfect work, beautiful things can be safely brought to life. The stumbles and ‘getting things wrong’ will no longer be seen as red lights but as the ‘signs of life’ that something new is being brought forth. Many people pay lip service to the notion of ‘flearning’ (failing is learning) but have strong negative reactions to things not looking perfect, immediately. How can we change our reactions to the necessary learning stumbles young people encounter in their quest to make new things, so that they feel more empowered to innovate?

Beyond controlling how we positively respond to the ‘flearning’ of our young people, the question of how we help students develop inner emotional resilience is an enormous one. Certainly, there is a range of strategies to try. One practice that has most helped me to overcome my perfectionism and fear of failure is journaling. And no, I do not mean diarising what I did in a day. I mean creating a ritual in which you sit down prior to creating and write down all the negative stories that are holding you back. This could be a negative story such as ‘I don’t have any unique ideas’, or ‘Nobody will ever read my work.’ Once you have listed these negative stories, on the other side of the page, respond to them with positive stories – things you would say to encourage a friend. For example, the follow up stories to the negative stories I gave as examples could be, ‘I am a magnet for good ideas’, and ‘Those who need my work will find it.’ While at first this feels like a list of silly lies, it is a powerful and positive psychology exercise that can build inner resiliency and belief. I can definitely say that with my first poetry collection being released this month, it is a practice that helps bring forth the work.

I feel convicted that emotionally resilient people who are free to create will make work that helps to free others. It’s a chain reaction and makes what we do as teachers so rewarding. For this reason, I feel really grateful to work at a school that prioritises student wellbeing, and allows their staff to take risks, because it is a culture I believe will see young creators thrive. I feel sure that the more we nurture ourselves and do the inner work of rewriting negative stories, the more prolifically, abundantly, and joyfully we can all create, and – who knows, perhaps solve some of those urgent problems we face. Even if it is simply to help each other feel less alone.

Scan the QR code to purchase Emily’s debut poetry collection, Remedy.