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August 2016
SELF-INITIATED CREATIVITY IN THE ELEMENTARY CLASSROOM
David Rufo
Syracuse University
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ABSTRACT
In this study, the researcher used an action research methodology to investigate the selfinitiated creative processes and artifacts of his fourth and fifth grade students over the
course of one school year in an attempt to shed light on the pedagogical effects of an
elementary classroom that allows its students significant creative agency. The majority of
the literature on the self-initiated creativity of children examines the work of primary
grade students in an art room setting, revealing a gap in the literature and the need for a
study regarding self-initiated creative processes and products made by children in an
intermediate general classroom setting. The research site was a democratically based,
child-centered classroom in a private day school where students were encouraged to share
in the development of the conceptual, curricular, and physical aspects of the learning
environment. The self-initiated creative activities of the children provided a unique lens
through which the researcher was able to view and understand his students’ learning
styles, gain insight into their metacognitive processes, and observe the ways they
navigated their classroom space. Empowering students to become critical agents through
choice and autonomy led to arts-based approaches of inquiry and spontaneous creative
learning experiences. An analysis of the data contributed to an understanding of six
essential principles for facilitating self-initiated creativity within the everyday constraints
of a traditional schooling environment, as well as cautionary revelations about how I
could have been more effective at co-constructing an enduring culture that supported selfinitiated creative learning in collaboration with my colleagues at the research site.
SELF-INITIATED CREATIVITY IN THE ELEMENTARY CLASSROOM
by
David Rufo
B.F.A., Syracuse University, 1984
B.S., LeMoyne College, 1995
M.S., SUNY Cortland, 2000
Dissertation
Submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of
Doctor of Philosophy in Teaching & Curriculum.
Syracuse University
August 2016
Copyright © David Rufo, 2016
All Rights Reserved
To the creative resiliency of children.
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
The most effective mentors are those who freely offer their time and energy for the
betterment of others. I have had the good fortune to know many, and would like to
acknowledge those mentors who have guided me through this dissertation process.
To my wife Laura - years ago you encouraged me to begin this journey and every day
since, have offered unwavering support, guidance, and love.
To my son John - you have patiently helped me edit each word in these chapters and find
my voice as a writer.
To my friend and colleague Greg - with a simple observation you made me realize the
many joys to be found in teaching children.
To my advisor Dr. James Haywood Rolling Jr. - you instilled in me the confidence to
enter the world of scholarship and the ability to recognize my own biases so that I may
continue to learn.
To Dr. Mara Sapon-Shevin - you introduced me to the world of critical pedagogy and
helped me challenge my own long-held assumptions about education.
To Dr. Sharif Bey - your wisdom and insights shared during our conversations continue
to resonate and serve as constant inspiration.
To Dr. Laura Reeder - your clarity of vision and thoughtful advice has piloted me through
the many highs and lows of the dissertation process.
And to all my students past, present, and future - I thank you.
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
PROLOGUE….…………..……………………………………………………………….1
CHAPTER I – Introduction……………………………………………………………….3
Statement of Purpose…..……………………...……………………………………..……4
Research Questions…….……………………...……………………………………..……5
Terminology…….……………………...……………………………………..……….…..5
Overview of Methodology…………………...………………………………….…….…..7
How I Became a Teacher……………………...……………………………………..……8
Subjectivities and Biases……….....……….......…………………………………………..9
Subjectivities and biases as a teacher.…….........……………………………...…10
Subjectivities and biases as an artist..…….........………………………………...12
From Public to Private School……….…….......………………………………………...13
Turbulent Times…………….……….…….......…………………………………………15
The 2009-2010 school year: Breaking away from beloved traditions.........…......21
The 2010-2011 school year: Tragedy befalls the headmaster and turmoil
ensues……….……………………………………………………………………33
The 2011-2012 school year: Unexpected allies…...…..…………………….…...36
The 2012-2013 school year: Pulling out all the stops…………………………....45
Student Agency and Self-Initiated Creativity.…......…………………………………….50
Student Agency and Arts-Based Inquiry…....…......…………………………………….54
Chapter Overview…….…………….….......………………………………………….....55
CHAPTER II - Literature Review…………………………………………….…………57
Dispositions and Features Associated with Creativity…...…………….….……...…...…57
Creativity does not have a universally shared definition…..………………...…..58
Creativity is part of the human experience…………….…..………………...…..61
Creativity is organically structured, contextually dependent, and socially
situated …..............................................................................................................62
Creativity requires supportive environments……………....……………..……...64
Creativity involves risk-taking, personal agency, and a departure from the
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status quo...............................................................................................................64
Creativity includes ideas, actions, and objects valued for their novelty and
usefulness toward innovation……………………………………………………65
Creativity in the Classroom……………………………...…………….……………...…66
Creativity as Defined in this Study……………….……...…………….………….……..68
Agency in Education.………………………...…………….………….……....................69
Agency in traditional education..……………….………………………………..69
Agency in progressive education………..………..…….………………………..72
Agency in contemporary education………..………..….………………………..76
The Self-Initiated Creativity of Children in the Elementary Classroom…...…….……...78
Self-Initiated Creativity from a Classroom Perspective…………..……………………..80
Self-initiated creativity in traditional classrooms….....…………..……………...82
Self-initiated creativity in progressive classrooms….....…………..………...…..84
Self-Initiated Creativity from a Developmental Perspective.…………………….……...86
Self-Initiated Creativity from a Sociocultural Perspective....…….……………………...89
The Relationship between Agency and Self-Initiated Creativity in the Elementary
Classroom………………………………………………………………………………..90
Summary…………..………………………………..……..…...……………………...…94
CHAPTER III – Methodology and Procedures..……………………………………….101
An Examination of Action Research Studies in the Elementary Classroom…………...101
Study #1: Minute math: An action research study of student self-assessment…102
Study #2: R5: The sustained silent reading makeover that transformed readers.105
Study #3: Implementing readers theatre as an approach to classroom fluency
instruction………………………………………………………………………108
Study #4: Encouraging student initiative in a fourth-grade classroom…………109
Study #5: Designing compositional tasks for elementary music classrooms…..112
Summary……………………………………………………………………......114
How the Design of this Study Incorporated the Key Features of Action Research…….117
Artist-Researcher-Teacher…………………………..….………………..……………..118
Action Research as Narrative……………………….….………………..……………..120
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Action Research in the Elementary Classroom...……..………………………………..121
Insider perspective……..……………………..……………………………...…121
Theory to practice.……..……………………..………………………...………124
Artistic Practice as Research……………………………………………………………126
Interrogating the status quo………………………………………………….…127
Arts-based practices as a process of knowing…………………………………..128
Procedures of the Study......………………………………………………………….…129
How students engaged in self-initiated creativity throughout the school day….132
Data collection..……………..…………………….……………………………138
Data organization..…………………………………….………….…………….142
Criteria for data selected for inclusion in the final data set…………………….146
Organization and coding of the final data set……...…………………….……..148
Research Framework and Design………………………………………………………154
Narrative inquiry and action research…………………………………………..154
Theoretical and conceptual underpinnings……………………………………..155
Systems theory of creativity……………………………………….……155
Social constructivism…………………………………….……………..157
Communities of practice………………………………………………..157
Transactional pedagogy………………………………………………...159
Data collection within the theoretical frameworks and practices…..…………..160
Trustworthiness and Validity.....………………………………………………………..161
Generalizability…………………………………………………………………………163
Limitations and Delimitations.......……………………………………………………...165
Summary…………..………………………………..……..…...…………………….....166
CHAPTER IV – Findings…....…………...…………………………………………….168
Introduction…………..…...…………………………………………………………….168
Habitats for Amphibians and Insects.………………………..…………………………169
Cheerios ……………...…...……………………………………………………………176
Classroom Space ……...…...…………..……………………………………………….179
Dance….……………...…...……………………………………………………………182
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Doodles on Math Pages…….…………………………………………………………..183
Drawing....……..……...…...……………………………………………………………187
Dyes…...……………...…...……………………………………………………………194
Food Creations…...…...…...……………………………………………………………197
Forts and Spaces……...…...……………………………………………………………200
Frozen Creations……...…...……………………………………………………………217
Glue…………………...…...……………………………………………………………219
Head and Hand Accoutrements…...……………………………………………………223
Masking and Duct Tape Creations..…………………………………………………….225
Math Class Creations....…...……………………………………………………………226
Mixtures and Potions....…...……………………………………………………………227
Movies………………...…...……………………………………………………………232
Names………………...…...……………………………………………………………233
Painting.………….…...…...……………………………………………………………233
Sculpture and 3D Design…………….…………………………………………………238
Sounds and Rhythms………...…………………………………………………………240
String….……………...…...………………………………………………………….…241
Studio/Supply Area……….……………………………………………………….……243
Table Marks...………...…...………………………..……………….………………….245
Tools…..……………...…...……………………………………………………………246
Toys and Games…………...……………………………………………………………248
Weapons……………....…...……………………………………………………………250
Whiteboard.…………...…...……………………………………………………………251
CHAPTER V – Analysis: Fundamental Attributes of Self-Initiated Creativity…….….252
Introduction……………………..…………………..….………………..……………...252
Fundamental Attributes…..………..…...…………..….………………..………………253
Attribute One: Serendipitous Learning………………………...…...…..………………259
Serendipitous Learning in the Amphibian and Insect habitats creative
category…………………………………………………………………………259
Serendipitous Learning in the Dance creative category……………………..…260
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Serendipitous Learning in the Doodles on Math Pages creative category……..260
Serendipitous Learning in the Drawings creative category……………...……..260
Serendipitous Learning in the Dyes creative category……..…………………..261
Serendipitous Learning in the Food Creations creative category……………....261
Serendipitous Learning in the Forts and Spaces creative category………….....262
Serendipitous Learning in the Glue creative category……..……………….…..262
Serendipitous Learning in the Masking and Duct Tape creative category….….262
Serendipitous Learning in the Painting creative category…………………...…263
Serendipitous learning possibilities………………………….…………………263
Attribute Two: Process as Important as Product……………….………....……………264
Process as Important as Product in the Drawing creative category…………….265
Process as Important as Product in the Dyes creative category………………...265
Process as Important as Product in the Food Creations creative category..……266
Process as Important as Product in the Forts and Spaces creative category.…...266
Process as Important as Product in the Head and Hand Accoutrements creative
category…………………….…………………………………………………...266
Process as Important as Product in the Painting creative category………….….266
Process as Important as Product in the String creative category……………….267
Process as Important as Product in the Tools creative category..………………267
Process as Important as Product in the Toys and Games creative category……267
Process in learning……………………………………………………………...268
Attribute Three: Cross-Pollination………….……………..…...……………………….268
Cross-Pollination in the Amphibian and Insect Habitats creative category...….269
Cross-Pollination in the Dyes creative category..………………………………269
Cross-Pollination in the Forts and Spaces creative category..……….…………269
Cross-Pollination in the Frozen Creations creative category…………………...270
Cross-Pollination in the Glue creative category………………………...……...270
Cross-Pollination in the Head and Hand Accoutrements creative category……271
Cross-Pollination in the Masking and Duct Tape Creations creative category...272
Cross-Pollination in the Math Class Creations creative category………………272
Cross-Pollination in the Mixtures and Potions creative category………………273
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Cross-Pollination in the String creative category………………………………273
Cross-Pollination in the Table Marks creative category….……………….……273
Cross-pollination in learning…………………………..….………….…………274
Attribute Four: Autonomous Group Learning……………….………..………………..275
Autonomous Group Learning in the Dyes creative category…..……………....276
Autonomous Group Learning in the Forts and Spaces creative category…..….276
Autonomous Group Learning in the Masking and Duct Tape creative
category……………………………………………………………………...….277
Autonomous Group Learning in the Movies creative category…..…………….277
Autonomous Group Learning in the Painting creative category…..…………...278
Autonomous Group Learning in the Sounds and Rhythms creative category….278
Autonomous Group Learning in the String creative category…..…………..….278
Autonomous Group Learning in the Toys and Games creative category…..….278
Autonomous group learning………....………………………………………....279
Attribute Five: Innovative Appropriation and Adaptation……………….……………..280
Innovative Appropriation and Adaptation in the Amphibian and Insect Habitats
creative category.….............................................................................................281
Innovative Appropriation and Adaptation in the Cheerios creative category.….281
Innovative Appropriation and Adaptation in the Classroom Space creative
category................................................................................................................282
Innovative Appropriation and Adaptation in the Dance creative category.…….282
Innovative Appropriation and Adaptation in the Dyes creative category.…..….282
Innovative Appropriation and Adaptation in the Forts and Spaces creative
category.………………………………………………………………………...282
Innovative Appropriation and Adaptation in the Glue creative category.……...282
Learning through innovative appropriation and adaptation…………………….283
Attribute Six: Creative Transcendence & Aesthetic Enhancements…………….……...283
Creative Transcendence and Aesthetic Enhancements in the Cheerios creative
category…………………………………………………………………………284
Creative Transcendence and Aesthetic Enhancements in the Drawing creative
category…………………………………………………………………………284
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Creative Transcendence and Aesthetic Enhancements in the Dyes creative
category…............................................................................................................285
Creative Transcendence and Aesthetic Enhancements in the Food Creations
creative category………………..………………………………………………285
Creative Transcendence and Aesthetic Enhancements in the Forts and Spaces
creative category…………..……………………………………………………286
Creative Transcendence and Aesthetic Enhancements in the Frozen Creations
creative category………………..………………………………………………288
Creative Transcendence and Aesthetic Enhancements in the Head and Hand
Accoutrements creative category...……………………………………………..288
Learning through creative transcendence and aesthetic enhancements………...289
Attribute Seven: Communication, Empowerment, and Self-Advocacy………….…….290
Communication, Empowerment, and Self-Advocacy in the Amphibian and Insect
Habitats creative category…………..…………………………………………..290
Communication, Empowerment, and Self-Advocacy in the Cheerios creative
category…………………………………………………………………………291
Communication, Empowerment, and Self-Advocacy in the Classroom Space
creative category………..………………………………………………………291
Communication, Empowerment, and Self-Advocacy in the Drawing creative
category………………………………………………………………………....291
Communication, Empowerment, and Self-Advocacy in the Forts and Spaces
creative category……………………...………….……………………………..292
Communication, Empowerment, and Self-Advocacy in the Frozen Creations
creative category………………………………………………………………..293
Communication, Empowerment, and Self-Advocacy in the Head and Hand
Accoutrements creative category……………………………………………….293
Communication, Empowerment, and Self-Advocacy in the Studio and Supply
Area creative category………………...………………………………………..294
Communication, Empowerment, and Self-Advocacy in the Table Marks creative
category…………………………………………………………………………294
Communication, Empowerment, and Self-Advocacy in the Tools creative
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category………………………………………………………………………....294
Communication, Empowerment, and Self-Advocacy in the Whiteboard creative
category………………………………………………………………………....295
Learning through communication, empowerment, and self-advocacy…..……..296
Attribute Eight: Conflict Within the Status Quo……………………..…………………296
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Amphibian and Insect Habitats creative
category…………………………………………………………………………296
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Cheerios creative category………….….297
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Classroom Space creative category…….297
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Dance creative category………………..297
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Doodles on Math Pages creative
category................................................................................................................298
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Drawings creative category………….....298
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Dyes creative category………………....298
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Food Creations creative category………298
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Forts and Spaces creative category…….299
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Frozen Creations creative category….…299
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Glue creative category……….……..…..299
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Head and Hand Accoutrements creative
category………………………………………………………………….……...299
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Masking and Duct Tape Creations creative
category………………………………………………………………………....300
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Math Class Creations creative category..300
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Mixtures and Potions creative category..300
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Movies creative category………………300
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Names creative category……………….301
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Painting creative category……………...301
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Sculpture and 3D Designs creative
category………………………………………………………………………....301
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Sounds and Rhythms creative category..302
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the String creative category………..……….302
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Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Studio/Supply Area, Table Marks, Tools,
Toys and Games, Weapons, and Whiteboard creative categories…..………….303
Learning through Conflict Within the Status Quo………….…………..………304
CHAPTER VI – Discussion: How the Eight Attributes Inform Pedagogy in the
Elementary Classroom………………………………………………………………….305
Introduction……………………..…………………..….………………..……………...305
Attribute One: The Characteristics and Pedagogical Implications of Serendipitous
Learning.………………………………………………………………………………..307
Attribute Two: The Characteristics and Pedagogical Implications of Process as Important
as Product……...…………………………………………………………………….….309
Attribute Three: The Characteristics and Pedagogical Implications of Cross
Pollination……………………………………………………………………………....310
Attribute Four: The Characteristics and Pedagogical Implications of Autonomous Group
Learning……………………..……….………………………………………………....312
Attribute Five: The Characteristics and Pedagogical Implications of Innovative
Appropriation and Adaptation………………………………………………………….314
Attribute Six: The Characteristics and Pedagogical Implications of Creative
Transcendence and Aesthetic Enhancements…………………………………………..315
Attribute Seven: The Characteristics and Pedagogical Implications of Communication,
Empowerment, and Self-Advocacy.……………………………………………….…...316
Attribute Eight: The Characteristics and Pedagogical Implications of Conflict Within the
Status Quo……………………………………………………………………...…….…318
Essential Principle One: Time to Engage in Self-Directed Learning……………..……319
Essential Principle Two: Agency to Self-Navigate through Indoor and Outdoor
Spaces…………………………………………………………………………………..320
Essential Principle Three: Access to Classroom Materials and Supplies………………322
Essential Principle Four: Autonomy to Make Choices and Decisions…………………324
Essential Principle Five: Freedom to Explore Unanticipated Learning Opportunities…325
Essential Principle Six: Ability to Deviate from Preplanned Curricular Activities and
Lessons………………………………………………………………………………....326
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CHAPTER VII Conclusion……........………………….……..…...………………...…………………..328
This Narrative…………………….………..…..….………………..…………………..328
A Summary of the Literature…………...…..….………………..……………………...329
A Summary of Action Research…………..…....…..….………..……………………...329
A Summary of the Procedure………….………..…..….………………..……………...330
A Summary of the Findings, Analysis, and Discussion..………………..……………...331
Transgressing the Status Quo………………………..….………………..……………..333
Who made the artifacts?...................………………..…………………..……………....333
Artifact creation by grade level..………………………………………………..334
Artifact creation by gender……………………………………………………..335
Artifact creation by race….……………………………………………………..335
Summary…………………………………………………………………….….337
Artist-Teacher-Researcher………………...………..…………………..……………....338
My Own Positionality in the Study……………………………………………………..340
Attitude and demeanor………………………………………………………….341
Materials and supplies…………………………………………………………..342
Curricular scope and sequence………………………………………………….344
Being shaped by the process……………………………………………………345
Implications…………………..….…………………..….………………..……………..346
Additional Considerations……………………………………………………………...348
The effectiveness of our democratic, creatively based, student-centered learning
environment on student learning……………………………………………….349
The positive effects of our democratic, creatively based, student-centered
learning environment…………………………………………………..352
The negative effects of our democratic, creatively based, student-centered
learning environment…………………………………………………..354
Recommendations to educators interested in implementing a democratic,
creatively based, student-centered pedagogical approach……………………...358
Create a proposal……………………………………………………….359
Have conversations with relevant parties………………………………360
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Start slowly and build gradually………………………………………..361
Provide periodic updates and solicit feedback………………………….362
Further Research……………..….…………..….………………..………………..……362
Enacting the Six Essential Principles into Traditional Learning Structures……………369
Time to engage in self-directed learning……….………………………………370
Agency to self-navigate through indoor and outdoor spaces………..…….……371
Access to classroom materials and supplies……….…………...………………372
Autonomy to make choices and decisions.…….…………………………….…373
Freedom to explore unanticipated learning opportunities…….………….….…373
Ability to deviate from preplanned curricular activities.…………………….…374
EPILOGUE……………………………………………………………………………..375
The Creative Resiliency of Children..………………..…………………..……………..375
REFERENCES..………………..………………………………………..……………..379
APPENDIX A: Data images 001-253…………………………………………………..412
APPENDIX C: 253 Pieces of Data Showing Evidence of 8 Fundamental Attributes….444
APPENDIX E: Study overview……..………………………………………………….445
APPENDIX F: Class list with creative artifacts.....…………………………………….446
VITAE…………………………………………………………………………………..454
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LIST OF FIGURES
CHAPTER I
Figure 1. Montage of the third grade classroom (2009)
Figure 2. Montage of the fourth grade classroom (2009)
Figure 3. Montage of photo samples from the email blasts (2010-2011)
Clockwise from top left: Students performing a skit on the classroom stage; student
climbing around a geometric figure; student giving a multi-media presentation; students
writing.
Figure 4. Montage of “the buzz” in action (2011-2012)
Clockwise from top left: Students gather rocks for a science project; students create a
temporary studio space; students make adjustments to the daily schedule; student-led
impromptu class meeting.
Figure 5. Montage of classroom views from October 2011
Clockwise from top left: Student taking a break on the climbing wall; students solving
math problems; reading at tables marked and decorated by students; the author
conferencing with a student.
Figure 6a. Photo showing our classroom during the 2012-2013 school year. Students
were allowed to affix their work to the walls and arrange the furniture as they pleased.
Figure 6b. Photo showing our classroom during the 2012-2013 school year with a view
of the front of the room and the butcher-block tables.
Figure 6c. Photo showing our classroom during the 2012-2013 school year. Students
were allowed to hang their creative artifacts from the ceiling.
Figure 6d. View of our classroom during the 2012-2013 school year looking toward the
rear of the room showing the climbing wall section, snowshoes hanging by the back door,
and supply shelves in the back.
Figure 7. Photo samples of my students’ self-initiated creations made during the 20092010 school year. Clockwise from top left: Throwing Weapon (stick, string, and tape);
Tissue Ball (tissues and rubber bands); Paper Creature (string, wire, paper, and
markers); Paper Box (copy paper, cardboard, tape, and string).
CHAPTER III
Figure 8. Front of our classroom before students arrived for the school day. (2013)
xvii
Figure 9. Classroom after students arrived. During Morning Mingle students drew on the
whiteboard, arranged tables for a game, worked on projects, and caught up with friends.
Student faces blurred to conceal their identity (2013).
Figure 10. Photo-montage of students creating during math class (2012-2013). Clockwise
from top right: Making a Scented Marker poster, Drawing on tabletop and creating
stickers out of paper, makers, and glue. Four girls sharing a mini-studio set up. Student
faces blurred to protect their anonymity.
Figure 11. Photos of students creating during Snack Time (2012-2013). From left to
right: Collecting stones for an insect cemetery, gathering plants for an inchworm habitat,
and writing a name using Cheerios.
Figure 12. Left: Students taking a climbing break. Right: Students using crash pads as
partitions for a private workspace (2013).
Figure 13. Alien ship carved out of an apple with a working hatch and removable alien
character (2012).
Figure 14. Examples of outdoor and indoor recess self-initiated creativity. Left to right:
Discarded items collected from the campus grounds and brought to a fort construction
site in early spring. A “potion” made by mixing dishwashing liquid, water, salt, and dry
watercolor pigment (2013).
Figure 15. Photo-montage of students during our STEAM portion of the day (2013).
Clockwise from top right: Painting a poster for a science project, exploring paints,
engaging in a climbing activity, rehearsing on our classroom stage while others
conference with Eddie and work on math problems. Student faces blurred to protect their
anonymity.
Figure 16. A student presents as others draw on the whiteboard (2013).
Figure 17. Students drumming on a tabletop while waiting to be dismissed (2013).
Figure 18. Computer screenshot detail of digital files containing 1038 pieces of raw data
in the form of photographs and video clips (2016).
Figure 19. Computer screenshot detail showing digital files of raw data subdivided by
year (2016).
Figure 20. Computer screenshot detail showing digital files of raw data subdivided by
date of creation (2016).
Figure 21. Two views of the same piece of data showing laptop computer decorated with
Cheerios (2013).
xviii
Figure 22. Computer screenshot detail showing a nested digital file opened to reveal two
photographs of the same piece of data (2016).
Figure 23. Left to right: Whiteboard diagram used as a survey instrument. Whiteboard
used as a surface for a large abstract drawing (2013).
CHAPTER IV
Figure 24. Data images 001 and 002. Walter using pebbles to create an insect cemetery.
(2012)
Figure 25. Data image 003. Red-backed salamanders. (2013)
Figure 26. Data image 004. Student gathers items for an inchworm habitat. (2013).
Figure 27. Data images 005 and 008. Inchworm habitats decorated with petals. (2013)
Figure 28. Data image 009. Name of inchworm written in glue mixed with paint. (2013)
Figure 29. Data image 010. Utilitarian salamander habitats. (2013)
Figure 30. Data images 011 and 016. Salamander habitats with moss, pond water, and
rocks. (2013)
Figure 31. Data image 013. Salamander experiment. (2013)
Figure 32. Data image 015. Wiggles the worm. (2013)
Figure 33. Data images 017 and 018. Cheerio Kabob and Cheerio Stick Hat. (2012)
Figure 34. Data images 019, 020, and 022. Name spelled with Cheerios, Magenta
colored Cheerio and Cheerio figure. (2013)
Figure 35. Data image 021. Computer decorated with Cheerios. (2013)
Figure 36. Data images 023 and 024. Personal learning space and bookcase painting
project. (2013)
Figure 37. Data image 025. Students use crash pads for a private rehearsal space. (2013)
Figure 38. Video still. Students create a fitness challenge on the stage, vacuum floor, and
work on Khan Academy. (2013)
Figure 39. Video still. During Morning Mingle students draw on the whiteboard, create a
tabletop game, and work on a project. (2013)
xix
Figure 40. Data image 026. Close up of student drawing on the whiteboard. (2013)
Figure 41. Video still sequence of Libby doing a ribbon dance. (2013)
Figure 42. Data image 028. Walter and Tate’s doodles. (2013)
Figure 43. Data image 029. Jodie’s cartoon on a math page of long division problems.
(2013)
Figure 44. Data image 030. Hannah’s doodles on her math homework. (2013)
Figure 45. Data images 031 and 032. Doodles on math pages by Nolan and Natasha.
(2013)
Figure 46. Data image 033. Harlan’s nametag. (2012)
Figure 47. Data image 034. Libby’s Girl Universe drawing. (2012)
Figure 48. Data images 035, 036, and 037. Expressionistic drawing, random scribble
drawing, and abstract drawing. (2012-2013)
Figure 49. Data image 038. Triangles of Snow drawing hanging on the ceiling. (2013)
Figure 50. Data image 040. Libby’s heart drawing on a tissue. (2013)
Figure 51. Data images 039 and 041. Ally’s Model Magic drawing on notebook paper
and using masking tape to create stripes on copy paper. (2013)
Figure 52. Data images 042 and 043. Ally’s Model Magic drawing studio and one of her
drawings showing the effects of her Model Magic and water technique.
Figure 53. Data images 047, 048, 049, and 050. Ally’s vial experiments clockwise from
top left: Food coloring with glitter. Food coloring with glue, twine, copper wire, foil,
scrapes of masking tape, the bulb of an eyedropper and a rubber pencil grip. Frozen food
coloring and water mixture. Dried paint fragments.
Figure 54. Data images 051 Color series from marker cores, and video still image of
Tammy’s unicorn foam.
Figure 55. Data images 053 and 055. Creating green dye and potpourri.
Figure 56. Video stills showing tissue dye process.
Figure 57. Data image 056. Placemat figure.
Figure 58. Data image 057. Alien spaceship carved from an apple.
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Figure 59. Data images 058 and 059. Apple strand and Apple-O-Lantern.
Figure 60. Data image 060. Angry old man with a beard made from a chicken patty.
Figure 61. Data images 063 and 064. Messages written in ketchup.
Figure 62. Data image 062. Plastic fork tine fangs.
Figure 63. Data image 071. Students using a double rope tow.
Figure 64. Data images 073 and 074. Branch and thatch fort roof structures.
Figure 65. Data image 077. Stone path to fort.
Figure 66. Data image 080. Students emerging from woods at the sound of Eddie’s
whistle.
Figure 67. Data image 081. Student demonstrating a roof design.
Figure 68. Data images 082 and 098. Bouncy Seat and vine swing.
Figure 69. Data image 095 and 087. A student points to his team affiliation marking
made of duct tape and a broken branch used as a duct tape dispenser.
Figure 70. Data image 085. Stick of Fame.
Figure 71. Video still. Looking up the hillside toward Lydia and Tammy’s fort
Figure 72. Data image 089. Lydia constructing a wind and rainproof roof.
Figure 73. Data image 094. A partial view of Libby’s Fort Resort.
Figure 74. Data images 092 and 093. Lever tool and walking technique.
Figure 75. Data images 096 and 097. Boys removing a tree stump. Lydia, Gloria, Tammy
and Ally insulating their fort.
Figure 76. Data image 099. Hannah and Natasha constructing their fort roof.
Figure 77. Data image 100. Harlan using his sweep tool.
Figure 78. Data image 103. Using sleds to transport bricks and pavers.
Figure 79. Data image 108. Fort building resumes.
Figure 80. Data image 112. Harlan integrates nylon rope into his fort structure.
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Figure 81. Data image 111. Ally adjusts the rope on a small Cherry tree.
Figure 82. Data image 113. Canvas drop cloth integrated into a fort design.
Figure 83. Data image 114. Student running down a pathway in the undergrowth.
Figure 84. Data image 116. Libby’s Fort Resort entry.
Figure 85. Data image 118. Bays made from gabion stone and branches
Figure 86. Data image 120. Libby holding her frozen latex glove filled with water and
food coloring.
Figure 87. Two views inside our classroom mini-fridge.
Figure 88. Data image 125. Gwen’s sticker experiment on wax paper and wood board
backings.
Figure 89. Data images 124 and 126. Stella creates Fake Soup.
Figure 90. Data image 127. Ally combines glue, paint, and glitter.
Figure 91. Data image 128. Prank Chocolates by Tammy and Stella.
Figure 92. Data image 129. Tacky Glue dribbled into a water and food coloring mixture.
Figure 93. Data image 130. Colored Glue by Libby.
Figure 94. Data images 131 and 133. Nicole’s hair decorations.
Figure 95. Data images 132, 134, and 136. Masking tape beard, heart mask, and Need a
Moustache? flyer.
Figure 96. Samples of foil face accoutrements. Left to right: Nicole with a beard and
mustache, ornamentation on Jodie’s eyeglasses, Nolan with a nose bow and beard, and
the boy who was using tinfoil in his science experiment with cheek and eyebrow
protrusions.
Figure 97. Libby’s Tattoo advertisement.
Figure 98. Data images 145, 147, and 155. Various masking and duct tape creations.
Figure 99. Data images 158 and 159. Cooper’s Scented Marker poster and Stella’s
design.
Figure 100. Nicole working on a doodle pattern.
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Figure 101. Data image 162. Nadine working on imaginary cures.
Figure 102. Data images 163 and 164. Gloria’s Extra Liquefied Sticky Water and
Tammy’s Toxin to Kill the Evil Queen.
Figure 103. Data image 166. After effects Nolan and Harlan’s creative process.
Figure 104. Left: Video still of Stephanie, Ally, and Nadine creating their Potion to
Forget. Right: Data image 168 showing Ally’s glow in the dark liquids.
Figure 105. Data image 169: Materials from Harlan’s Potion Basket.
Figure 106. Left: Video still. Gloria wearing her pen costume. Right: Data image 171. A
group of students filming a horror movie.
Figure 107. Data images 172 and 173. Giant name tags and Walter’s name logo.
Figure 108. Data image 174: Libby’s painting titled, Flood.
Figure 109. Left: Video still of Jodie and a friend use their hands to apply paint. Right: A
student’s painting of a bat with handprints as wings.
Figure 110. Data image 178: Stephanie spreading paint with her hands.
Figure 111. Data images 179 and 180. Wiping excess paint from a paintbrush onto the
art supply cart and Gwen’s paint pallet artwork.
Figure 112. Data image 185. Nadine and a friend replenish the supply of purple paint
with their own mixture.
Figure 113. Video still. Children walking on a piece of plywood covered with paint and
wax paper for their squirrel house.
Figure 114. Data images 188, 189, and 190. Nicole wearing her cup hat and Libby
describing her sculpture titled, “That Cup of Joe” and Tate’s basketball hoop.
Figure 115. Data images 193, 194, and 196. Nadine’s eyeglasses, Cooper’s nesting paper
airplanes, and Nicole’s object fragments colored with a silver Sharpie marker.
Figure 116. Data images 198 and 201. Libby’s pie tin drum and paper cup wind chimes.
Figure 117. Data image 202. Mallets and percussive instruments used by the Iron Band
Figure 118. Data images 204, 205, 206. Left to right: Libby’s string caterpillar, Ally’s
dyed string puffs, and Angela’s wire hook tool.
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Figure 119. Data images 207 and 210. Pile of string clippings and string wrapped
Popsicle sticks.
Figure 120. Data image 211. Gloria adding red food coloring to a coil of string stuffed
into a vial.
Figure 121. Data image 213. Students taking items from a newly organized art supply
cart.
Figure 122. Data image 215. Art supply carts and tables under student control.
Figure 123. Data images 217 and 219. Left to right: Game diagrams drawn on tabletop
and student engraving the greeting, “Hi” using the tip of a pair of scissors.
Figure 124. Data image 221. Cooper using a homemade inkwell and stylus during math
class.
Figure 125. Data images 223 and 225. Sewing leaves and using a bark basket.
Figure 126. Data image 226. Nadine’s Mini-Silver Board
Figure 127. Video stills showing tools to extract ink from maker cores and Angela
squeezing the ink from a marker core into a dropper bottle.
Figure 128. Data image 228. Libby’s first attempt at designing her own kite.
Figure 129. Data images 231 and 232. Left to right: Girl adjusting a homemade swing
and Walter’s toy for flinging washers.
Figure 130. Data images 234 and 236. Bow with a conveniently located notch to hold a
pencil and Libby’s longbow movie prop.
Figure 131. Data images 239 and 237. Spear and Self-Defense Weapon.
Figure 132. Data image 248. Students writing messages and drawing pictures on the
classroom whiteboard.
CHAPTER V
Figure 133. Theme Code Document sample for Data #027 (2015).
Figure 134. Appendix C Excerpt: 253 Pieces of Data Showing Evidence of 8
Fundamental Attributes (2015).
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Figure 135. Appendix D Excerpt: Matrix Showing 253 Pieces of Data Organized Within 8
Fundamental Attributes (2015).
CHAPTER VII
Figure 136. Creature made from adhesive putty (2014).
xxv
Prologue
This dissertation tells the story of my experiences as a general elementary
classroom teacher at a private day school in upstate New York. My teaching partner and I
desired to give our students increasing amounts of creative agency and self-governance in
an attempt to establish our version of a child-centered, democratic classroom
environment. However, we were part of a school steeped in decades-old traditions with a
proud reputation as the most successful college preparatory school in the area.
In addition to being a teacher, I am also an artist. As an artist, my fierce sense of
independence, resistance to established hierarchies, and creative tendencies have heavily
influenced my own education as well as my professional teaching practice. As an
educator, I am most interested in the ideas and perspectives of children and was reluctant
whenever I was required to enact a comprehensive curricular program or make children
follow school-wide protocol. Consequently, my research interests concern student agency
and creativity in the elementary classroom.
For this study, I examined my students’ self-initiated creative activities and the
resulting artifacts to see what I could learn about my own teaching practice. Reporting on
my research was at the same time easy and challenging. The process of composing this
narrative was easy because I recounted my own lived experiences. This process was also
challenging for the same reason. It is an emotional story with both fond and unpleasant
memories. In an attempt to be objective, I interviewed a number of colleagues with whom
I worked to fill out the narrative. I reviewed hundreds of pages of email communiqués
and examined over a thousand photographic and videotaped pieces of data to facilitate an
accurate retelling. Yet, it remains my story told through my perspectival lens. Although I
1
did my best to recount a narrative based on empirical observations, fragments of my
partialities and biases remain embedded throughout the text.
My teaching partner and I firmly believed we were developing an educational
model wherein the children were happy and engaged because they were allowed to
contribute their creative ideas and co-construct their learning. However, there was an
educational model already in place as part of the school’s infrastructure and the pedagogy
we wanted to practice came into conflict with many of the school’s long held practices,
traditions, observances, ceremonies, and celebrations. Nevertheless, we were so
steadfastly committed to our vision and so entrenched in our conviction that we held out
hope that a large enough group of administrators, faculty, staff, and parents, would rally
in defense of our classroom practices. As you will read, this did not happen. At the
conclusion of this narrative, the majority of individuals who appear in this story,
including my teaching partner and I, ended up leaving the school for one reason or
another.
At the end of this dissertation, I will relate my teaching experiences since the time
of this study and begin a new discussion on the feasibility of incorporating our
unorthodox pedagogy into educational environments beyond the privileges provided at
our private day school.
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CHAPTER 1 - Introduction
It has become continuously more difficult for teachers to enact classroom
practices that support student agency and promote self-initiated creative endeavors. Since
the national move toward standardization in education following the No Child Left
Behind Act of 2001, classrooms have become increasingly restrictive environments as
discovery-based learning experiences, which offered relevant and meaningful ways of
understanding, were replaced by teacher-directed instruction, prescriptive projects, and
top-down educational initiatives (Giroux & Schmidt, 2004; Smyth, 2008; Zhao, 2006).
Anderson & Milbrandt (1998) recognized that traditional schooling practices resist
spontaneous expression and Freire (2005) maintained that traditional schooling practices
negate “education and knowledge as a process of inquiry” (p. 72). In his elaboration of
Flow Theory, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi described the optimal learning experience as one
in which participants find “a sense of exhilaration, a deep sense of enjoyment” (1990, p.
3) becoming “so involved in an activity that nothing else seems to matter” (p. 4). In this
state of flow, people are intrinsically motivated as they engage in self-initiated activities.
Csikszentmihalyi characterized young children as “learning machine(s)” (p. 47) who
enter into this state of flow naturally.
However, the dominant culture of education in the United States requires children
to follow “standardized curricula” that define “knowledge narrowly in terms of discrete
skills and decontextualized bodies of information” (Giroux & Schmidt, 2004, p. 220).
Topics are imposed in a way that impedes children from pursuing their own interests and
enjoying optimal learning experiences. Critical theorist Joe L. Kincheloe (2008) argued
that educators should replace scripted curricula, reductionist epistemologies, positivist
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attitudes, rigid classroom practices, and decontextualized learning environments with a
focus on “generative themes” (p. 11) that connect with the students’ life experiences.
Statement of Purpose
As a professional teacher, I am fascinated by the self-initiated creations of
children and the resiliency with which they engage in creative acts. Regardless of their
circumstances, children find ways to initiate and partake in creative activity, or creativity.
In Art and Intimacy, Ellen Dissananyake (2002) argues that children have a biological
predisposition for art making and in What is Art For? she affirms that there is an “artistic
proclivity in human nature” (p. 64). From my experience as a general classroom teacher,
I have witnessed similar tendencies throughout my career. I have taught in situations that
have invited creativity and in circumstances that have suppressed it. In each of these
environments, I have witnessed the unremitting creative tendencies of children.
This dissertation will examine the self-initiated creativity of children in a general
elementary classroom setting to see what, as educators, we might learn from learners. A
study of the self-initiated creative activities of children within the structure of the
elementary classroom provide a unique lens through which teachers may view and
understand their students’ learning styles and gain insight into their metacognitive
processes. Fostering this type of creativity requires an environment where children are
allowed agency in their learning. In this study, agency is informed by Giddens’ theory of
structuration (Nicholls & Cho, 2006). Structuration recognizes that “structure and agency
exist in a complicated, endogenously determined, continuously evolving relationships
with each other” (p. 109). Giddens’ theory states that individuals “are not always free to
pursue an unlimited array of choices” within established systems and structures, but
4
neither are they “powerless in the face of a hegemonically deterministic social structure”
(p. 109). Instead, “agents operate in an evolving and dynamic relationship with their
social environments” (p. 109). I endeavored to empower my students to become selfdirected participants in our classroom community, resistant to the domination of their
self-initiated proclivities by teachers or traditional American classroom structures. Choice
and opportunities for self-governance are necessary to facilitate educational experiences
that are meaningful, relevant, and lead to ownership of learning (Glasser, 1969).
Research Questions
The questions that guide this study are:
•
What does the self-initiated creativity of children in a general elementary
classroom tell us about the ways in which children go about the learning
process and navigating a classroom space?
•
What does it mean to facilitate self-initiated creativity within the everyday
constraints of a schooling environment?
Terminology
Throughout this dissertation, the terms “traditional” and “progressive” are used to
convey the distinction between two general approaches to education. However,
conceptualizing schooling using dichotomizing descriptors such a traditional versus
progressive requires clarification since there can be variations on the amount of
traditional or progressive practices within one school and even within a single classroom.
In the literature it was found that schools or classrooms that identified as
traditional were teacher controlled (Cuban, 1993; Elmore, 1996; Lefstein, 2012), relied
on a formulaic production of art products (Anning, 2002; Douglas, 2012; Gardner, 1980)
5
and resisted spontaneous expression (Anderson & Milbrandt, 1998). Whereas schools and
pedagogical approaches that identified as alternative, progressive, or nontraditional such
as Montessori, Reggio Emilia, Waldorf, and Summerhill embraced student agency and
encouraged creative engagement.
For the purpose of this dissertation, the term traditional indicates educational
philosophies and practices that value familiar, long-established practices, and reward
quantitatively measured academic achievement. Traditional pedagogies privilege
hierarchical classroom roles, structures, and designs. In a traditional classroom, the
teacher is the sole authority responsible for arranging the classroom space, setting the
rules, and directing the learning. In some traditionally situated classroom settings the
students are allowed choices in how they go about their learning, but only those choices
that have been predetermined by the teacher.
Similar to the teacher being the head of the classroom, the principal or division
head is the chief authority within the school building. Although teachers may be invited
to share their thoughts and ideas, the principal is in control of making final decisions
regarding curriculum and school protocol. Finally, the superintendent or headmaster is in
charge of the district or school campus and may influence or override decisions made by
the principal or division head.
Conversely, in this dissertation the term progressive indicates classrooms that are
democratically based, where the students have a role in determining portions of the
curriculum, the organization of the classroom space, and the daily schedule. The term
progressive is also used in this dissertation to suggest continually shifting pedagogical
approaches that invite change, foster student individuality, and welcome student critique.
6
Progressive pedagogies privilege student interests over standardized curricular scope and
sequences. Teachers and administrators act as guides and mentors rather than authority
figures. Students are invited to create their own learning objectives and often direct their
own learning.
During my time as a teacher, most of the classrooms I have observed fall
somewhere within the continuum between traditional and progressive as described above.
Therefore, when the term traditional is used in this dissertation it refers to a classroom,
pedagogical practice, or philosophy that is closer to the traditional end of the continuum.
When the term progressive is used in this dissertation, it refers to a classroom,
pedagogical practice, or philosophy that is closer to the progressive end of the continuum.
Overview of Methodology
For this study I observed how my students engaged in creative agency over the
course of one full school year. I collected and examined photo and video documentation
of their self-initiated creative artifacts and processes to understand how they navigated
the classroom space and to discern the effect of creative agency on their overall learning.
At the same time the larger institution of which our classroom was a part was undergoing
changes in leadership, personnel, philosophy and vision.
This dissertation is a research story. It is a narrative that provides a way of
“representing and understanding experience” (Clandinin & Connelly, 2000, p. 18). It
presents a “lived experience” (Ellis & Flaherty, 1992, p. 80) and offers a “description and
meaningful interpretation of experiences, artifacts, phenomena, performances, and events
as research data” (Rolling, 2010, p. 7).
7
In this study I used action research to examine the self-initiated creative processes
and artifacts of my fourth and fifth graders over the course of the 2012-2013 school year
at a private day school in upstate New York in an attempt to shed light on the
pedagogical effects of a general elementary classroom that allows its students greater
creative agency.
How I Became a Teacher
I never wanted to be a teacher. I entered elementary school in 1967 and graduated
from high school in 1980. During those years my classroom experiences felt constricting
and compulsory. Here and there I recall a few hands-on projects: some teachers were
more interesting than others, but their teaching methodologies were generally the same.
As I sat at a desk, a teacher positioned in the front of the classroom guided students
through unit chapters, worksheets, and reading passages. In each class there was a
curricular scope and sequence to be completed between September and June. Rarely did I
feel a sense of possibility, serendipity, or excitement, except when I was in the art room.
During my junior year, an art teacher noticed my burgeoning artistic talents and
suggested I apply to art school, which I did, and was accepted to Syracuse University.
Four years later I had a degree in Fine Arts but no job prospects. That summer I
moved to New York City and for the next five years worked odd jobs. I was a bartender
and bouncer while making paintings on the side. I moved back to upstate New York in
1989 and married in 1990. I continued making artwork but only sold sporadically.
Ever since I was a teenager, family and friends suggested I get my teaching
degree because they saw I was patient with children and had an aptitude for facilitating
learning moments. However, I resisted this idea because of the tedium I experienced as a
8
student. I never caused trouble and did my best to please my teachers. I was a wellbehaved, solid B student with the occasional A. But for me, educational environments
were largely lackluster and predictable.
Eventually, with the encouragement of my wife, I took a course on reading
education offered in the elementary education department at a local college. It was the
early 1990s and the Whole Language movement had taken hold. Whole Language was a
progressive educational approach that included elements of constructivist learning theory,
and focused on integrating language arts with other subject areas in meaningful ways. It
was in this context that I felt education could be more than what I had personally
experienced. Subsequent coursework included progressive concepts and classroom
practices I found exhilarating and liberating.
I went on to earn my teaching certification and landed my first teaching job in a
local public elementary school in 1995 as a general classroom teacher.
Subjectivities and Biases
In this introduction I will recount my tumultuous career as a general elementary
classroom teacher. The action research framework of this dissertation, which will be
elaborated later in the writing, necessitates the openness of this account. Since “action
researchers are, relative to conventional social scientists, more autobiographical in their
expression,” they need to “contextualize the claims” in order to “create transparency”
(Huang, 2010, p. 95). I will also describe how after 18 years, I decided to study the selfinitiated creativity of children to see how their creative processes and artifacts might
inform my pedagogical practices. My experiences as a teacher and artist influenced this
study and each role provided certain competencies and proficiencies that helped guide
9
this investigation. However, the inherent subjectivities and biases embedded within these
roles also had an effect. During this study I have done my best to remain objective, but
each role brought with it a complex set of sentiments, beliefs, positions, and attitudes.
Subjectivities and biases as a teacher. Teaching is at once an emotionally
edifying and draining profession. As a teacher I was responsible for the educational wellbeing of hundreds of students over the course of my career. Some parents told me that I
imbued their children with new life. Others said that my classroom was a waste of a year.
Each student I taught had an effect on my development as a teacher. My experience with
some students even precipitated fundamental changes to my philosophies and practices.
Teaching takes dedication. Teacher salaries are relatively low compared to other
professions (Raad, 2009). In my professional experience however, what draws many to
teaching is not the salary but a strong sense of duty to the education of children. Many of
my colleagues told me teaching was their vocation. Teaching is also a profession, yet one
that is rife with outmoded bureaucratic hierarchies (Grant & Murray, 1999). As
professionals, teachers should have the “autonomy, authority, and rewards of other
respected professions” (p. 144). Instead, teachers are typically placed “at the bottom of
the administrative hierarchy” (p. 97).
I always had a difficult time accepting the traditional hierarchies found in
education, especially when I felt those hierarchies impeded my autonomy as a teacher
and the agency of my students. Schools have become increasingly regulated, with
curriculums becoming more standardized, while teachers are afforded less freedom in
how they go about their professional objectives (Feldmann, 2011). Studies have shown
that teachers who were given a measure of autonomy in their classrooms “expressed
10
greater satisfaction with their job” (Fernet, Guay, Senecal, & Austin, 2012, p. 517) which
in turn led to a greater sense of professionalism (Pearson, 2005). Yet educational
institutions remain “too hierarchical, too rule-bound, too formalistic to allow for the kind
of autonomy and professionalism schools need if they are to perform well” (Chub &
Moe, 2011, p. 520).
I had a varying degree of professional autonomy during my 18 years teaching in
both private and public school settings. In my experience, teachers were generally
rewarded for attending to that year’s prevailing administrative guidelines and directives.
Conversely, we were chastised when we strayed too far from the status quo expectations.
It was rare to find an administrator who allowed a great degree of faculty autonomy in
curriculum, classroom management, and the physical appearance of the learning space.
This hierarchy of power became replicated in the classroom where student learning was
typically “imposed from the top down” (Shore, 2012, p. 22). The pressure to cover
standardized content resulted in teacher-led, direct instruction instead of hands-on or
creative modes of learning (Robinson & Aronica, 2015). I have known many teachers
who began their careers hoping to have a positive impact on the lives of their students
only to emerge disillusioned and defeated by the system years later.
As a teacher I chafed at the immutability of the school environment. Students
were required to follow predetermined schedules and curricular outlines and act
according to set customs, practices, and routines. Students were given very little say
regarding their schooling experiences. Recess was the only time they had a semblance of
autonomy but even these privileges were taken away if they did not strictly adhere to
classroom rules and expectations. In my own teacher practice I tried to find ways for my
11
students to have agency in their learning experience. I looked for opportunities to include
them in the development of the curriculum and encouraged them to critically analyze the
customs and conventions of the schooling environment.
Since I utilized an action research methodology to investigate my own classroom
in this study, my perceptions, feelings, and reactions concerning schooling hierarchies are
also naturally reflected in this study. According to Herr and Anderson (2005), “we all
enter research with a perspective drawn from our own unique experiences” (p. 60) and so
“one way to deal with bias is to acknowledge one's presence in the study and build in
self-reflection” (p. 35). Throughout this introduction I attempted to acknowledge my bias
against educational hierarchies and the effect of my presence within the research setting.
Since I spent a significant portion of my professional career working in a co-teaching or
team teaching format, in order to provide a wider context I have included the voices of
my colleagues to broaden the perspective of the narrative.
Subjectivities and biases as an artist. As an artist I enjoy being part of a
contemporary visual dialogue. I am interested in the studio practices of other artists and
finding out how and why they make art. I find the language of visual art easier to engage
than textual information. It is an expeditious mode of communication via colors and
forms that interact in animated and surprising ways to generate internal coherence and
discernable meaning.
On the one hand, I see the language of visual art reflected in much of what
children do and feel they deserve to be part of the conversation; on the other, I do not
believe children should merely mimic or pay homage to what has already transpired in
modern and contemporary art. They have valuable ideas to offer and should be allowed to
12
enter into the contemporary visual dialogue on their own terms. As an artist I was greatly
interested in examining how my students engaged in creativity and felt it could provide
essential insight into how children learn. Consequently, my preoccupation with visuality
and bias toward artistic invention affected every aspect of my classroom practices.
From Public to Private School
During my first three years as a public school elementary classroom teacher, I did
my best to make my classroom a place where students found learning exciting and
invigorating. The principal who hired me was interested in progressive educational
practices and encouraged me to integrate what I had learned during my coursework into
my classroom. My students responded positively to arts integration strategies and so I
incorporated this interdisciplinary approach to fostering creativity whenever possible. In
language arts the children acted out scenes from their favorite books. During social
studies we made movies and documentaries. In math we created games based on
algorithms and other mathematical concepts. In science we kept illustrated journals.
However, this principal left in my second year as a professional teacher and her
replacement required standardized methods of instruction and my initial approaches to
integrated learning in the classroom were no longer welcomed.
A neighbor who served on the board of a local independent school suggested I
apply for a teaching position that had just become available in a third and fourth grade
multiage classroom. I got the job and in the Fall of 1998 I began teaching at a Pre-K to 12
private day school with established Lower, Middle, and Upper School divisions located
in upstate New York. I was thrilled to be added as a member of a group of three veteran
teachers who were piloting a new multiage, team-taught classroom experience called the
13
3-4 Blend. It was an exciting time. Our team shared two large classrooms where we
taught upwards of 60 third and fourth graders. Each day the teachers met to plan lessons
and develop curriculum. We valued hands-on learning and active student participation.
Each team member was allowed to integrate her/his interests into the lesson planning.
One team member was passionate about social justice, another scientific investigations,
another literature, and I contributed my passion for the arts.
But that experience was short-lived. I was the youngest member of our teaching
team, and over the next few years, my three colleagues either retired or moved on to other
positions within the school. During the rest of my tenure at the school, many other
teachers cycled through the program, but we were never able to recapture the excitement
and synergy of the first few years. By 2001, the multiage program had changed
drastically. What was once a thriving team teaching situation became divisive and
disconnected. When I first joined the 3-4 Blend, the students were mixed in a variety of
ways throughout the week to provide a diversity of learning experiences. Two large
classrooms each housed a combination of third and fourth grade students and a pair of
teachers. Sometimes the four teachers would meet with all the third and fourth graders as
a whole group. At other times, two teachers would team-teach in one of the classrooms
with half the students. When we felt the need to work in smaller groups we divided each
classroom in half by closing sets of large curtains. But when two of the original four
members left the team, the group no longer shared a common vision, philosophy, and
methodological framework. According to Carol (a pseudonym), who was the head of
Lower School at the time, “things changed with their departure because as ‘founders’
they had a clear picture and great control over things. As things became more a result of a
14
shared or distributed leadership, compromise became even harder” (personal
communication, July 27, 2015).
Although the school still advertised the 3-4 Blend as a team teaching venture, no
real team teaching occurred because of the conflicts that arose between the four members.
I was interested in continuing what I considered to be an innovative educational journey
started by the team in 1998. One of the new teachers in our team was planning on retiring
within a few years and was not interested in further developing the program. Another
preferred a traditional approach. To complicate matters further, three different teachers
cycled through our 3-4 Blend program between the years 2001 and 2006, disrupting
continuity.
The Blend teachers were required to teach according to a shared schedule, plan
and develop curriculum together, and collaborate on events such as Back to School
Night, Open House, Opening and Closing ceremonies, and professional development
days. But when in the classroom, the students mainly rotated through separate classes
taught by each of the four teachers.
Turbulent Times
To expand beyond the limits of my own memory in writing this chapter, I
contacted seven colleagues who I thought could offer a wider context, provide alternate
perspectives, supply details, and most importantly, give me candid feedback on the
effectiveness of my own teaching practice during those turbulent times. All seven agreed
to share their recollections with me via email and provided me with pseudonyms: Eddie
was my teaching partner for four years from 2009-2013; Leah and Rachel were the fifth
grade teachers during the 2012-2013 school year; Carol hired me in 1998 and was the
15
head of the Lower School until 2008; Charlotte was the head of Primary Education
(grades 2-5) from 2009 until 2011; Nicole was the assistant to the head of Lower School
during the 2012-2013 school year; and Jessica was a member of the original 3-4 Blend
who went on to other positions within the school including assistant head of Lower
School before retiring. Except for Eddie, each of these colleagues was privy to
information about the school that Eddie and I were not. Leah and Rachel were well
respected throughout the school and other faculty would go to them for advice or just to
vent. Carol, Charlotte, and Jessica were at different times the head of Lower School and
involved in conversations at the administrative level. As an administrative assistant,
Nicole could offer yet another perspective.
Jessica told me that from 2001 onward the Blend was “growing contentious, with
serious disagreements surrounding curriculum, structure, discipline and rigor” and “it
seemed that those concerns were shared by some, but not all, parents and most faculty
and administration (personal communication, July 11, 2015). From 2001 to 2005, I felt as
though my own teaching practice had become ossified. I shared my excitement about
progressive teaching methodologies, but for the most part, the team did not feel the same
way. Carol recalls that although my “relationship with students was always strong” and I
could confidently articulate my reasoning for curricular enhancement, she “had to say
‘no’ to some ideas that may have been too out there for parents, and colleagues.” She
emphasized, “some of your colleagues were very rigid” and “your ideas though intriguing
seemed to be too much and I would have to pull things in” (personal communication, July
27, 2015).
16
Although I did my best to develop innovative lessons and activities, I wanted to
take it much further. I felt uninspired and trapped with my teaching team and there
seemed to be little hope of returning to the sense of possibility and excitement I had
found when I first joined the 3-4 Blend. I was bored with the type of teacher I had
become but I did not know what to do to remedy the situation.
For me, the answer came in 2006 when a new teacher was hired to our team.
Eddie was a young idealist who was passionate about education and a zealous advocate
for children. One day he walked into my classroom and asked me why I needed a teacher
desk. I was taken aback by the question. Before I could respond he began pointing out
aspects of my desk that interfered with the learning of our students. He mentioned the
size of the desk and how much room it took up. He asked me to consider the placement
of the desk at the front of the classroom and the power structure it symbolized. As the
students entered the classroom we watched how it interrupted the flow of bodies, as they
were required to navigate around it.
Over the next few weeks I realized the psychological impact the desk had on my
students’ learning. Previously, I accepted the desk as just another classroom fixture. I
gave it no more thought than I gave to the door or ceiling tiles. I was completely
oblivious to the way it impacted the students’ lives. But suddenly I saw it as a physical
impediment and symbolic monolith. There was an unequal hierarchy at play. My desk
was much larger than the student desks. I could decide where to place it in the classroom
but the students had to remain in predetermined seating arrangements. I could lock the
drawers of my desk but the students had no way to secure their belongings. Like many
17
teacher desks, mine was filled with personal effects and mementos but the students were
not allowed to personalize their desks.
Seeing my teacher desk through the lens of classroom power structures started a
chain reaction. I began to examine every aspect of my classroom space. I considered
other objects that were under my control and off limits to students. Filing cabinets,
shelves, closets, whiteboards, doors, windowsills, and bulletin boards were all teachercontrolled domains. Supplies including construction paper, pencils, glue, crayons,
markers, paint, scissors, and poster board were doled out and dispensed according to my
schedules, timelines and agendas. As the teacher I was clearly the sole authority figure. I
had jurisdiction over the classroom both physically and psychologically.
This led me to examine other aspects of classroom hierarchies such as the preset
schedule and the predominance of teacher-directed lessons and activities. Although I
incorporated some creative methodologies into my teaching, it was still a unidirectional
approach. I realized that the reason I had become bored with my own teaching was
because my students lacked agency in their learning. As a result, there were few
surprises. Although I had the reputation of being a dynamic teacher, the students were not
an authentic part of the decision-making processes. They had no real input in their
learning. The schedule was set, the classroom arranged, and the lessons planned before
they entered the room.
I began to confer with Eddie more and more. During my planning times I watched
him teach. During recess I watched how he interacted with the students. We became
friends and began discussing education outside of school during mountain bike rides and
snowshoe treks in the winter months. The more we talked, the more I saw student agency
18
as the main element that was missing from my classroom. Without student agency,
education is a unidirectional experience with teachers leading and students following. Of
course, children do learn in unidirectional environments, but I wondered what type of
learning might transpire if they were allowed agency in their educational experiences.
How would learning differ? I assumed it would be a more appealing learning experience
because the students would have a role in what they learned and how they went about
learning. But I also wanted to find out what teachers like myself could learn from
students who became empowered in their educational experiences. I was curious about
the pedagogical insights greater student agency might offer the study of education.
Each new school year brought logistical changes as the administration attempted
to settle the philosophical differences that continued to trouble our teaching team. They
tried restructuring the Blend program by altering the schedule, remixing the student
groupings, and reconfiguring the teachers. The conflicts and personnel changes within
our team began to negatively impact the other Lower School grade levels as well. I
remember a second grade teacher complaining at a faculty meeting that too much time
and attention was put towards resolving personnel issues in the 3-4 Blend classrooms.
However, Rachel, one of the fifth grade teachers, recalls that there were also degrees of
dysfunction in many of the other grade levels, as well as within the administration. She
said some of the “division heads had not had a smooth working relationship and this had
created further tension and unhappiness among faculty.” She went on to say that “the
Lower School was struggling with its identity” partly because “teachers were engaged in
finger pointing and blaming rather than self-reflecting and self-improvement (personal
communication, July 21, 2015).
19
To complicate matters further, “everything was playing out on a large stage” and
because of the school’s policy of full tuition remission for faculty children, “teachers
across the school had kids in the class” (Charlotte, personal communication, July 19,
2015). The resulting conflicts of interest became more pronounced when our longstanding Head of Lower School, Carol, left at the end of the 2007-2008 school year to
take an administrative position in a private school in another state. She was a strong
leader who was able to quell disputes among the faculty before any negative news
reached the parent community. I had heard from other teachers that the problems at the
school had precipitated her decision to leave. However, she told me that she “was not
looking to leave, but the opportunity was too exciting to pass up” (personal
communication, July 27, 2015).
We had three different heads of Lower School from the fall of 2008 until the
spring of 2013. Each did their best to maintain control and put a positive spin on the
school, yet disputes among the faculty intensified to the point where teachers in the
Middle and Upper School as well as parents became aware of the infighting among
Lower School faculty. During this time, Eddie and I continued to share ideas on
education and develop a common philosophy. However, we could only go so far putting
our theories and ideas into practice while being part of the 3-4 Blend. Every summer
since Eddie was hired, we scheduled a meeting with the Lower School head to lobby for
the opportunity to have our own classroom where we could team-teach separately from
the other two teachers in the Blend. Every year our request was denied. We were told that
since there were so few male teachers in the Lower School they wanted to keep us in
separate classrooms so more of the third and fourth graders could experience an adult
20
male influence in the classroom. Carol offered her rationale for keeping Eddie and I in
separate classrooms:
I had to have conversations about balance and the public perspective with some of
the ideas you and/or Eddie would come up with. Although I can be and was
excited by some of the more progressive ideas you guys came up with, I had to
balance the reality of getting applicants into the school and ensuring the academic
success in a way that families would recognize and have confidence in. Families
had to have an understanding of what and how their children were learning. We
just could not go to extremes though we were definitely left of center. (personal
communication, July 27, 2015)
In 2009, Charlotte became the head of Primary Education (grades 2-5) and
granted our request. Finally, Eddie and I became the fourth grade teaching team.
However, there was one caveat. Since the school wanted to continue to advertise a third
and fourth grade blended classroom experience, Eddie and I were required to plan a 35minute block each day of integrated learning with the third grade teaching team. That
year the school decided to have two heads for Lower School: Judy (a pseudonym) was
the Head of Early Childhood Education (Pre-K through first grade) and Charlotte was the
Head of Primary Education (second through fifth grades).
The 2009-2010 school year: Breaking away from beloved traditions. In the
Fall of 2009 the third grade team was made up of a teacher who had taught in the Blend
since 2002 along with a new hire. One day before school began, I went next door to the
third grade classroom to see how they had arranged and set up their space. That year,
Eddie and I planned to allow our students to co-create and co-curate our classroom space
so I knew the rooms would look quite different when the students arrived for the first day
of school the following morning. Since our students would be spending some of their
time in the third grade room, I wanted to know how much of a visual discrepancy there
would be between the two rooms so I would be prepared to address any questions the
21
parents might have after their children reported on their first day of school. After many
years of instability in the Lower School, a few parents said their children needed more
consistency and structure in the classroom. I knew that our increasingly fluid teaching
style and organic approach to education could be easily misinterpreted as inconsistent or
lacking structure. Add to this the disparity of appearance between the classrooms and I
figured we would have to be ready to address some parental questions and concerns.
The third grade room looked similar to the other Lower School classrooms at the
beginning of the school year. At the front of the room there was a newly installed Smart
Board. Above the Smart Board ran a number line as well as a colorful alphabet strip with
cursive upper and lowercase letters. To the right and left were posters displaying a
multiplication chart, American currency, place value and a Classroom Constitution
signed by each student.
Figure 1. Montage of the third grade classroom (2009)
Along one wall were two desks (one for each teacher), low bookcases containing
teacher guidebooks, and large binders of master copies of worksheets to go with the
22
various math and language arts programs. Above the bookcases, colorful, oversized
picture books were displayed. Behind one teacher desk was a Word Wall with vocabulary
words on purple cardstock surrounded by a blue scalloped edge border. The other teacher
desk was decorated with houseplants and family photos amidst a neat stack of file folders
and lesson activity books. On the opposite wall were more bookcases containing books
ranked by reading level, assorted supplies, and posters describing the Scientific Method
and the writing process. On the back wall were maps of the world and North America, a
bulletin board containing a calendar, notes and schedules. Off the main room a smaller
area contained bookcases filled with non-fiction books, above which were hung posters
of Ancient Egypt, Ancient Rome, and Ancient Greece. There was a small whiteboard
with a second alphabetized cursive letter writing strip fixed above it. Surrounding the
whiteboard were additional posters and charts and, to the left, a large cabinet containing
art and craft supplies. In the center of the both spaces, pairs of trapezoidal tables were
placed together to form hexagons that seated students in groups of six. Each seat had a
small number line and personal cursive writing strip glued under the student’s nametag.
Two individual desks on either side of the classroom were reserved for students who had
difficulty focusing. As was customary in our school, the teachers prepared weekly
schedules, lesson plans, and classroom rules before the start of school.
Conversely, in our classroom the stools remained stacked, the walls blank, doors
unadorned, and supplies sealed in boxes.
23
Figure 2. Montage of the fourth grade classroom (2009)
Eddie and I planned on having the students help determine how the room was to be set up
and arranged. Over the years we had noticed how some children became agitated when
required to sit still at an assigned seat. So, instead of desks and chairs, we requisitioned
stools and folding tables. We also recycled butcher-block tables that were being thrown
out by one of the art teachers. Under the legs of each table we affixed furniture sliders so
the tables could easily move to the perimeters when we needed an open space. We would
allow the students to sit where they pleased. The previous year a group of students
became interested in climbing so we constructed a climbing wall for our classroom that
had a variety of colorful climbing holds running from floor to ceiling. During the long
winter months, students complained about feeling confined inside all day so we hung a
classroom set of snowshoes near our back door for students to use once the lake effect
snows arrived in billowing drifts. Another group of students asked if we could have our
24
own classroom stage so we built one in a corner of the room for students to perform skits,
present ideas, or debate issues.
Eddie and I were interested in developing what we envisioned as a democratically
based, child-centered classroom, a concept that will be further delineated in Chapter 2.
According to Eddie, we needed to “trust the kids and give them more responsibility in
their learning” (personal communication, July 14, 2015). We planned to begin each day
meeting with the students to determine what needed to be learned and how we should
schedule the day’s events. We were aware of the skills and content the students needed to
acquire over the course of the school year but we wanted to embed them in relevant and
meaningful learning experiences. We believed meaningful learning happened when
students had a say in how they went about their education. Our schedule included
specified times for Language Arts, Science, Social Studies and Math, but we planned to
use it only as a general guideline.
We agreed that students would be allowed to take personal breaks during lessons
and activities. For instance, students who had difficulty concentrating during math class
could take a few minutes to use our classroom’s climbing wall, go for a walk in the
hallway or do their work at a picnic table that was setup outside our back door. We
planned to leave a block of time at the end of each day to have a class meeting and
critique the day’s events. If a majority of the students felt a lesson or activity was boring,
we would have a brainstorming session on how it could be improved, modified, or
abandoned for a completely different approach. We would then hold a vote to determine
which direction to take. Conversely, if there was an aspect of the day students felt was
25
especially intriguing we might decide to continue with the activity over the course of a
week.
Eddie and I were hopeful that, although we were going to practice a pedagogy
that was quite different from the other Lower School teachers, our choices would be
respected. Fortunately, the headmaster at that time allowed the faculty to try new
approaches and was satisfied as long as the majority of parents seemed happy.
The day before classes commenced for the 2009-2010 academic year, our school
hosted its annual Back-to-School picnic. The picnic also provided an opportunity for
Lower School students to visit their classrooms and meet their new teachers. As was his
tradition, an hour or two before the picnic the headmaster stopped in to various
classrooms in all three divisions, from Pre-K to 12th Grade. Upon entering ours he was
surprised at the visual contrast to the other classrooms he had visited. He gruffly
exclaimed, “You’re not ready yet?” I told him that, in fact, we were ready and that the
absence of any set up or decoration was purposeful. As I began to explain our philosophy
and rationale surrounding this decision he impatiently nodded, adjusted his glasses, and
walked out half chuckling to himself something to the effect of “This better work.”
Although he exhibited all the trappings of a quintessential private school headmaster, he
also had a radical streak and a penchant for critical discourse. I recall him saying at
faculty meetings that he purposely hired a diverse faculty and enjoyed it when they
engaged in heated debate. He wanted his students and faculty to take risks. He spoke of
education being a living entity that needed to adapt and progress to stay relevant. But
unlike many private schools, ours did not have a large endowment. The headmaster
believed that for the school to remain financially sustainable, he had to strike a delicate
26
balance between the parents who valued the time-honored traditions of private schooling
and those who expected cutting edge pedagogical practices. According to Charlotte, “We
needed the Lower School experience to make sense and we had to have a rationalization
for why we would embrace radically different approaches. [The headmaster] loved the
sparkle you brought and the liberal notions and enthusiasm but he was also a
traditionalist” (personal communication, July 19, 2015).
According to emails from that time period, it is evident that Eddie and I were
optimistic at the beginning of the school year. Eddie was confident that once parents saw
our classroom in action they would see it as “a place where learning [was] happening”
(personal communication, September 9, 2009). By the end of the first week of classes
Eddie was convinced that both faculty and parents would embrace our educational
approach when they witnessed our students joyfully learning in an “environment created
collaboratively by teachers and students” (personal communication, September 11, 2009).
However, it soon became apparent that the third grade team did not share in our
enthusiasm. They began to question what they perceived as a lack of structure in our
classroom. Eddie recalled: “Our schedule was slightly different each day so from the
outside it looked like there was no routine, but there was. Our routine was that every day
could bring something new and different. More often than not, we went with the kids’
ideas” (personal communication, July 14, 2015). The relationship between Eddie and I
and the third grade team grew increasingly strained. According to Eddie:
The third grade teachers did not like that we allowed our students to be active in
ways that were not the norm in other classrooms in the Lower School. They did
not like that the students had a role in making decisions about scheduling,
protocol, and curriculum in our classroom. They complained that our classroom
lacked structure and discipline. (personal communication, July 14, 2015)
27
This perspective was shared by some of the other faculty as well. Jessica who at
that time was serving as the Head of Curriculum for the Lower School remembers it this
way:
Much of the initial concern came from the impression that you were allowing
your students to ‘run wild’ - running unescorted in halls to specials, sometimes
unruly and not polite in assemblies, etc. Your classroom certainly looked and felt
largely undisciplined. I believe Eddie, especially, did not agree or promote the
general expectations for dining room behavior. If I recall correctly, it seemed like
the impression was that you were breaking away from the ‘beloved’ traditions of
the school and communicating your dissent to the kids. (personal communication,
July 15, 2015)
In truth, we were breaking away. We challenged what we considered to be
outdated classroom practices, especially teacher-student power structures. In an email I
wrote to Eddie on November 3, 2009, I talked about my interaction with a disrespectful
student during a math class while another adult was present in the room:
A student was vocally “sparring with me” which doesn't bother me in the least but
I think it annoyed an onlooker. I try to teach respect by modeling respect. Forcing
children to speak a certain way only makes them go underground with their
feelings and then they resist in other ways.
Eddie and I thought our approach to teaching was in sync with the spirit of the school’s
philosophy. A letter from the headmaster included in the school’s admission packet
stated:
We challenge students to become inquisitive and independent learners. We
emphasize intellectual and creative exploration. We have the freedom to develop
a challenging curriculum and to adapt our teaching methods to suit our students.
In doing so, we encourage them to seek their own solutions—to think creatively
in all aspects of life.
We took these words to heart and used them to justify our methodologies. We thought the
best way for students to become inquisitive and independent learners was to give them
agency in the classroom even if it meant challenging, disrupting and dismantling the
28
customs and routines of the school. We did our best to share our ideas, philosophies, and
rationale with other faculty, especially the third grade team. But, as Jessica stated, “In
spite of your efforts to communicate your philosophy with anyone who would listen and
your willingness to do assessments, share data, etc., it was a hard sell for most” (personal
communication, July 15, 2015). Charlotte told me that the third grade team “felt
threatened” and were upset that Eddie and I got to be the “fun teachers” while they were
considered the “tough teachers” (personal communication, July 19, 2015). Charlotte went
on to say:
They were right in a sense, because they were so very influenced by the opinion
of others and were ready to come down hard [on the students] when someone
complained. You all on the other hand, thought many of those critics were wrong
and so you completely ignored them or you would engage with the kids in a
discussion about code switching. (personal communication, July 19, 2015)
When I asked Charlotte what she meant by code switching she said:
Explaining to [the students] about how different people had different beliefs about
what is appropriate and how even if we disagree with them, we need to be
respectful of those beliefs. Explaining that the community and code you had
created together in your classroom didn't necessarily apply throughout the school.
(personal communication, July 20, 2015)
Eddie and I had intended for these conversations to help our students gain a greater
understanding of the complexities of different communities. But an unintended
consequence was that the more we empowered our students, the more they would openly
critique other teachers and classrooms practices. We wanted our students to become
critical agents of their own learning, but at the same time we tried to teach them how to
do it in a thoughtful manner and be aware of other perspectives. Like most learning, this
took lots of time and practice before students could successfully navigate various learning
environments and teacher expectations.
29
Although the school would never admit this publicly, the opinions of parents who
paid full tuitions and made large donations to the school had considerable influence.
These parents had an effect on some teachers more than others. According to Charlotte
the third grade teachers were not willing “to stand up to [traditionally minded] parents
and tell them that they needed to wait for longer-term results” (personal communication,
July 19, 2015). As the year wore on, parental feedback on our classroom was mixed. Our
methods seemed to elicit strong feelings, one way or the other. During that school year I
received emails from parents with positive messages such as:
•
Thank you very much for the continuous communication with us. This is
awesome and it really helps us strike up school-related conversations at home
•
34blend rocks this year
•
Thanks for all the updates. I know it takes up a lot of your time. I hope that I can
express how invaluable it is to us.
•
I think it is important to keep kids' interest focused on intellectual things as well
like this and you are doing an excellent job. Thx.
•
Thanks as always for the amount of time you give each child.
•
Thank you for everything you all do, and all you put up with.
•
Great job today guys! Many, many thanks for being such dedicated educators.
•
I can see that your classroom structure is awakening and enlivening to the
children who have the opportunity to experience it. As a parent, I feel blessed
that my child can partake in this type of environment.
•
Thank you for the great communication! Thank you also for always providing
quality instruction and interesting projects for your students. I just wanted you to
know that it does not go unnoticed and is very much appreciated!
There were also a few parents who voiced their concerns:
•
We have to admit that we still do not fully have a grasp of how things are now
working in the Blend given adjustments made this year.
30
•
My son believes that reading comic strips like Calvin & Hobbes, Asterix, etc. is
acceptable and I strongly disagree. Could you please clarify this?
It was difficult to decipher how many parents were unhappy with our classroom
practices since they usually did not contact us directly as in the above email excerpts. For
the most part, Eddie and I were informed of any negative parental feedback from
administrators who said they heard it directly from parents whom they would not name
and also from faculty members whose children we taught. Jessica went on to say:
Although there were some parents who appreciated the experience you offered
your students, I believe there were more who were skeptical, at best, and often
disappointed. ‘It could have been so much more.’ I heard that mostly from faculty
whose children you taught, but was aware of other parent concerns as well. The
gaps in curriculum had become increasingly apparent and parents expected more.
Overall, your style, philosophy and implementation was very controversial, as
you know. (personal communication, July 15, 2015)
The second, third, and fourth grade classrooms were all housed in a single
building on campus and so Eddie and I wondered how much of the parental concerns
were actually influenced by the second and third grade teaching teams. Charlotte recalls
that the “2nd grade teachers had strong opinions” and “what you were saying seemed to
be in opposition to other grades” (personal communication, July 19, 2015). Fifth grade
teacher Leah claimed that “among the Lower School faculty there was an outspoken
component, a constant message from four loudmouth teachers who were always talking
shit about you guys but it wasn’t how the rest of us felt” (personal communication, July
15, 2015). Whatever the reason, Eddie and I quickly gained a reputation as educators
whose teaching style either provoked opposition or elicited approbation. Jessica ended
her email with these final thoughts:
You know that you generally had my support, and that in spite of my efforts to
understand and embrace your enthusiasm and philosophy, I often disagreed with
31
your methods and would have opted for a different experience for that age group.
That being said, I so respected your intellectual energy, passion and desire to offer
a developmentally appropriate and joyful learning experience for children.
(personal communication, July 15, 2015)
The more Eddie and I continued to develop our philosophy and put it into
practice, the more upset the third grade team became. At the end of the school year, the
headmaster called a meeting with the Blend team and both of the Lower School heads. I
recall being surprised by some of the things he said. I was especially curious as to why he
opened the meeting with the words: “Don’t worry, no one here is getting fired.” He
informed us that we would have to somehow compromise because he was not going to
change the team. He told Eddie and I that we would have to teach reading, writing, and
math every day and that it should be more in line with the other Lower School classrooms
rather than in an experimental or radical fashion. I responded that he was misinformed
and that Eddie and I did in fact teach reading, writing, and math each day but it was often
in an integrated fashion so our approach looked different from the way the other teachers
taught those subjects. I told him that our methods were not experimental or radical but
well researched and pedagogically sound.
Charlotte believes that the headmaster was grandstanding for the third grade team
who were “at the heart of a very persuasive school clique.” She recalls that the
headmaster, “was worried that you all had become too much of an island and he needed
to assert that you needed to come back to the fold.” She then added that the third grade
team, “were also very upset after the meeting because they too felt reprimanded. They
wanted [the headmaster] to say they were great and you were bad and he didn’t. He said
you all needed to work together as professionals. They didn’t want to work with you.”
She also clarified my confusion about his comment that no one was getting fired: “Oh
32
they [the third grade teachers] totally wanted you fired” (personal communication, July
19, 2015).
The 2010-2011 school year: Tragedy befalls the headmaster and turmoil
ensues. It was clear that advocates in administration and advancement wanted the 3-4
Blend to remain intact. Over the years the 3-4 Blend was used to advertise a curricular
approach our school could offer that was not available in the local public schools. Carol
told me the Blend “was attractive as an alternative approach to learning in the [local]
market” (personal communication, July 27, 2015). According to Jessica “The Blend, in
its day, had been perceived as so successful and really was a selling point for the Lower
School” (personal communication, July 15, 2015). Charlotte recalls that the school had
“really built up public relations around ‘The Blend’ and had crafted it as a selling tool.
We were dipping in enrollment and they didn’t want to mess around with our public
relations” (personal communication, July 19, 2015).
It was also clear that Eddie and I would not be able to work with the third grade
team. It was proposed that the Lower School develop other types of teaming and blending
situations such as kindergarten working with first grade, second working with third and
fourth with fifth. According to Charlotte, this would provide a way to “put space between
[the fourth grade team] and the third grade team and say we were building on the
blending idea, not rejecting it. Growth not retreat” (personal communication, July 19,
2015). However, once the school year began, the prospective plans for alternate types of
teaming fell by the wayside and were never fully realized.
During the 2010-2011 school year, Eddie and I finally had the opportunity to be
an independent fourth grade teaching team. For the first time in our teaching careers we
33
did not have to consider other grade level teams as we planned our lessons and activities.
Eddie and I allowed our students an increasing amount choice in their learning and
governance in the classroom. Our main goal was to have students become empowered in
their learning and have ownership of their work. But we knew the administration, faculty,
and parents would be closely monitoring our activity. Charlotte recalls that amongst the
faculty there were a lot of “skeptics who were interested in seeing what would come of
it” (personal communication, July 19, 2015).
Eddie and I knew we had a formidable task ahead of us and that it was imperative
for us to have a successful year. We decided to have our program be as transparent as
possible. From the first day of school until the last, we sent out a daily email blast to
parents (seven of whom worked at the school as teachers or administrators) that gave a
brief description of each day’s lessons and events along with multiple photographs of
students engaged in various learning activities. The emails included information from
across the curriculum such as how our students used the climbing wall to learn the
properties of geometric figures, incorporated writing skills with science investigations, or
creatively presented independent research projects. Additionally, we hosted a series of
after-school forums where we invited parents in to discuss a variety of educational topics
to give them a sense of how our classroom operated and provide a better understanding of
our philosophy in action.
34
Figure 3. Montage of photo samples from the email blasts (2010-2011)
From left: Students performing a skit on the classroom stage; student climbing around a
geometric figure; student giving a multi-media presentation.
In February of that year, the headmaster passed away unexpectedly. Although it
was evident that he was in poor health due to his smoking and obesity, we were still
shocked at news. Many of those who spoke at his memorial service described him as
beloved. Rachel, who was teaching fifth grade at that time, recalls the power struggle that
ensued:
When [the headmaster] passed away, there was a power vacuum and many people
were grasping for power or a sense of control. I think this came from the lack of
continuity, the lack of leadership, the lack of a clear sense of purpose, and the lack
of identity in the Lower School. (personal communication, July 21, 2015)
Our headmaster was a visionary leader who, even during times of internal unrest, could
provide a semblance of continuity, purpose, and identity. With his passing, the situation
at the school became increasingly unstable.
During the speech Eddie and I gave at the end of the year during the Lower
School closing ceremony we did our best to communicate our enthusiasm and pride in
our students who in our eyes had become confident learners, critical thinkers, and
reflective, caring human beings. But our efforts did not result in widespread acceptance
as we had hoped. Instead, it might have led to greater dissension among the faculty.
Charlotte explained it this way:
35
You got lots of positive feedback from visitors. You made learning fun and alive.
You offered an educational experience that couldn’t be had at any other local
school. So that was good. But the light of your success didn’t shine back on the
other grades and that was bad. I think having the spotlight on you all made things
both better and worse. People were jealous of the celebrity. It put a lot of pressure
on you all in ways that others didn’t have to contend with. I also think that there is
a very real question about whether or not that kind of progressive philosophy
would be embraced in the community.
The 2011-2012 school year: Unexpected allies. Charlotte left at the end of the
2010-2011 school year. Judy, who was the Head of Early Childhood Education took over
leadership of the Lower School with Jessica as the Head of Curriculum for the Lower
School during the 2011-2012 school year. The Chief Financial Officer took over as
interim headmaster and search committees were formed to find a new headmaster and
head of Lower School for the following school year. Eddie and I used this interlude as an
opportunity to go further with our philosophical vision. We continued sending home
daily emails to show evidence of how the necessary skills were incorporated in our
organic approach to education. We wanted to show parents that their children were
involved in rigorous yet meaningful learning. Many of the emails we sent included
attachments and links to articles on education that we thought helped to clarify and
explain our methods and beliefs. We wanted to show that our teaching methods were
anything but haphazard and arbitrary. We insisted that there was a structure to our
classroom, albeit an organic and malleable configuration. That year I created a video
short of our classroom in action. The video is titled “Buzz,” after a phenomenon Eddie
and I experienced in our classroom when we noticed that all the students were deeply
engaged in their learning. The buzz might happen whether the students were all doing the
same activity, such as reading, or when they were involved in different activities.
Sometimes a buzz occurred when the classroom was active and loud and sometimes
36
when the classroom was very still and quiet. We called it the buzz because during these
times we sensed a hum of synergistic learning energy permeated the classroom space. It
was akin to what Csikszentmihalyi (1990) identified as Flow. We allowed parents to view
the video so they could get an idea of what our classroom looked like during the day.
Figure 4. Montage of “the buzz” in action (2011-2012)
From left: Student gathers rocks for a science project; students create a
temporary studio space.
Within the first few weeks of the new academic year it appeared our efforts had
paid off and Eddie and I had won over the majority of the parents. Some parents emailed
us with messages of affirmation and support:
•
I’ve never seen problem-posing education in action the way it is in your room.
Thank you for centering students’ intrinsic curiosities so completely in their
learning process.
•
As you know, I completely support your approach. It has a lot to do with why our
family is making significant financial sacrifices to send our children to school
there.
•
Your classroom looks like a ball and the kids really have fun which truly
enhances their learning experience.
•
I just wanted to give props to Eddie and David. They have been very on the ball
responding and following up on any question/concern that I have had about 4th
grade.
37
•
[my daughter] is loving fourth grade. My thanks to you and David for your hard
work and thoughtful approach to her education.
•
We also appreciate your positive feedback about our daughter. We know she feels
very fortunate to have you as her teachers.
•
It looks like such a blast! This environment definitely suits my boy!
•
You are among the most innovative teachers at [the school].
But the parent accolades did not temper the overall divisiveness that had engulfed
the Lower School in the wake of the prior year’s events. Even the handful of faculty
members who acknowledge the positive aspects of our philosophy did not think it would
ultimately prevail. In an email from Leah, one of the fifth grade teachers, I was told, “I do
not think that your educational goals and ideas about education were unrealistic” but “I
don’t think the school was ready for or will ever be the school that you both
envisioned/hoped for” (personal communication, July 15, 2015). I was not surprised by
this assessment because our classroom continued to look and operate very differently
from all the other classrooms. Eddie and I have compared our teaching style to surfing
with the classroom being an ocean of children who have many different needs and
interests that might change in an instant. As with surfers, who constantly adjust their
approach to the fluctuating waves on the surface of the ocean, we as teachers had to
frequently adjust to the complex waves of energy in our classroom.
In October, Judy, the interim Head of the Lower School, dropped by unannounced
to show a visitor our classroom. It just so happened that they walked in during an
extremely loud and active juncture. The students had been working successfully for the
good part of an hour and the buzz had already peaked. It was time for Eddie and I to
38
change things up, but because of the rain we could not take the students outdoors for a
much needed break. Just as we were going to pull the class together to meet and refocus,
our guests arrived. We held off on the meeting in hopes of showing our guests our
students in action but instead it was as though a rip current tore through the classroom.
Judy was embarrassed by what she saw. Later that night I called her to explain and
apologize. Afterwards, she sent an email to me and Eddie describing her dismay at, “the
condition of the room and the apparent chaos” and “how the noise level was so high at
times it was hard to hear” (personal communication, October 27, 2011). Although other
classrooms had their share of behavioral issues, events like this reverberated through the
school and provided fodder for those who were critics of our teaching style and wanted to
see our partnership terminated.
Figure 5. Montage of classroom views from October 2011
Clockwise from left: Student taking a break on the climbing wall; students solving
math problems; reading at tables marked and decorated by students.
39
Fortunately for Eddie and I, in early November the fifth grade teachers, Leah and
Rachel, approached us and asked if we wanted to team with them the following year to
create a fourth and fifth grade program. Leah and Rachel were both relatively new to the
school but were well liked and highly respected. Teachers as well as administrators often
sought their advice on a variety of issues. I was astonished that they wanted to align
themselves with Eddie and I considering the turmoil that had surrounded us. Leah
explained it this way:
There were multiple reasons. Selfishly, I was really curious about working and
focusing only on Humanities. Additionally, Rachel and I recognized the value of
the education that you and Eddie were providing and we wanted to try to find a
way to preserve that, while still having you both remain at [our school]. (At that
time, you both were expressing feelings of wanting to leave based on the tensions
you were encountering.) I hoped that Rachel and I taking over the
reading/writing/history would free you both up to be more creative without so
much outside criticism. Ideally, I had hoped that the kids would be exposed to the
best of all worlds between what we would offer in Humanities and what you and
Eddie would offer in STEAM. (personal communication, July 15, 2015)
In an email to Eddie and the fifth grade teachers Leah and Rachel, I recommended
we move quickly toward developing our teaming idea and presenting it to Judy, the
Interim Head of Lower School, and Jessica, the Head of Curriculum for the Lower
School, suggesting the following rationale: “the school is getting 4 new heads [the
headmaster and each division] and I think we have a window of opportunity here while
things are in flux. I feel there is a better chance of success if we have something
established, at least to some degree, before the new heads are in place” (personal
communication, November 5, 2011). Just as I wanted our students to become empowered
and have agency in their learning, I thought it important that we as teachers became
empowered agents. I proposed that our program function as a distinct entity within the
school:
40
I would also suggest that we have our own division called The Bridge…to signify
a distinct developmental time as kids experience a two-year exodus from Lower
School and entry into Middle School. We could base our philosophical statement
on how and why that’s appropriate for such a unique time in a child’s educational
experience. Since it’s a separate division, we don’t have a head. Instead, we each
take on the various responsibilities of a head. As teaching professionals, we also
determine our own professional development activities based upon our needs.
(personal communication, November 5, 2011)
Leah liked my enthusiasm but felt the school would not allow us as much license
as I suggested:
Although I’d love to see the four of us start our own deal I don’t think the school
is in a place where it could respond positively to a suggestion like that (yet). The
focus of Academic Council and the Search Committee has all been about finding
a common voice, identifying who and what [our school] is and pulling together. I
feel like we may need to carve out our niche and prove ourselves for a few years
before that could actually be presented. (personal communication, November 5,
2011)
I continued to press my point:
Yes, cohesion is the key word this year. I think, however, we can make the
argument that allowing us four to work as a unit, and have a larger degree of
autonomy, will actually add cohesion to the school. True cohesion cannot be
autocratically managed, it must develop from the ground up. The early Blend was
a success because each teacher bought into it and helped design it. The later Blend
was a total train wreck because the original team disbanded and folks were
brought in who didn’t buy into the philosophy and had a stagnant mindset when it
came to growth and change. (personal communication, November 5, 2011)
However, Rachel wanted more time to think things over and Leah remained unconvinced
of the feasibility of my plan advising that we move ahead cautiously:
I love the name “the Bridge” but I’m not comfortable taking on a separate
division. First, I think it’s going to be seen more as divisive than collaborative. If
we were to pursue the idea of a separate division I think that all the baggage of the
fighting within the blend, etc. will come up and this idea will be seen as our not
wanting to “play by the rules” when everyone else has to. I think the Lower
School is in desperate need of unity right now. Although I don’t want to
disappoint you two renegades :-), I also want to be honest about where I am and
what I’m comfortable taking on right now, as a new teacher to [our school] and a
41
new mom. (personal communication, November 7, 2011)
During that year various candidates were interviewed for the Headmaster and
Head of Lower School positions. Of the three finalists for the Lower School division, two
presented themselves as progressive educators and one as a traditionalist. Still reeling
from the aftereffects of the 2008 national economic meltdown, our school desperately
searched for a fresh vision and new identity in an attempt to secure the school’s financial
future. My teaching partner and I hoped for a plan outlining progressive ideals,
democratic learning environments, teacher autonomy, and choice-based education.
Above all, we valued student voice and agency. We wanted our students to become
critical thinkers, inventive problem solvers, and creative innovators. However, it soon
became apparent that the school was not moving in the direction we had hoped.
The hiring committee chose Leeann (a pseudonym), the most conservative of all
the candidates for the new Head of Lower School. I asked Rachel, who was on the hiring
committee, how they settled on Leeann:
Leeann impressed us as having a strong sense of education and curriculum, and
she had definite ideas of how to improve instruction and create a more consistent
educational approach. I remember worrying that Leeann might be too structured
for our environment, but Jessica had had many additional conversations with her
and seemed to feel that she was open minded and would seek faculty input on
important curricular decisions. (personal communication, July 21, 2015)
Eddie and I were disappointed by the choices made by the hiring committees for
the Head of Lower School and the Headmaster positions. But we remained hopeful at the
prospect of working with Rachel and Leah, which provided us with a psychological
lifeline. We would not be an autonomous entity as I had originally hoped, but at least
Eddie and I would be sharing students with teachers who supported our methodologies.
42
We continued to plan The Bridge program and it was decided that Rachel and Leah
would teach Social Studies and Humanities while Eddie and I focused on Math and
Science.
During the remainder of the school year Eddie and I continued to develop our
version of a child-centered, democratic classroom and made plans to include an
integrated science, technology, engineering, the arts, and math (STEAM) experience the
following year. Part of our STEAM initiative included making fifth grader participation
in the school’s Middle School Science Fair a choice rather than a requirement. We felt
parents were too involved in the process, and that in our school, the science fair had
become a competition between families instead of a meaningful learning experience for
the children. In an email to Eddie, I shared my misgivings about our Science Fair
tradition:
A child-centered, democratically based classroom demands an open-ended, fluid
curriculum, which allows for playful investigations and serendipitous discoveries.
Everything we do flows and interconnects. [You and I] know the skills and
concepts that need to be covered by the end of the year but the ways in which this
takes place is completely dependent upon the classroom dynamic and the daily
buzz. A predetermined unit of study locks us into a schedule, disrupts the flow,
and interferes with student agency and empowerment. The Science Fair in its
current form would run counter to our educational approach. During Science Fair
all students are required to take part in a highly stylized and predetermined mode
of learning. Although there are myriad possibilities for the types of scientific
investigations, the process requires adherence to strict protocols and
methodologies. We feel that the Science Fair limits the ways in which we can
engage with the various learning styles of each student and approach each based
upon his or her individual needs. (personal communication, November 4, 2011)
We shared our thoughts and ideas with Jessica hoping to put a comprehensive plan in
place concerning The Bridge program before summer break. I was especially adamant
about changing the Science Fair requirement after hearing from Middle School teachers
43
that they dedicated a full three months of the school year preparing for it. However, the
science fair issue was not addressed as we went into summer break.
On July 1, Leeann became the Head of Lower School and later that month sent an
email to The Bridge team:
In meeting with Jessica, I understand there was a question, yet to be decided,
about the 5th grade science fair… We probably need to talk about this all
together, but I am wondering if you might be able to explain what the perceived
‘downside’ is to the science fair experience for 5th grade. Opinions??? (personal
communication, July 14, 2012)
Eddie and I both replied with lengthy emails detailing our concerns with the traditional
science fair approach and new ideas regarding the science curriculum. In a portion of my
email I shared my desire to make the fifth grade science experience less product-oriented
and more process-oriented:
Our plan is to take the salient aspects of the Science Fair activity and teach them
over the course of the two-year Bridge classroom experience. Students will learn
about variables, procedures, scientific principles, sources of error, etc. but instead
of packing this learning into a two-month intensive learning framework requiring
a product-based outcome, students will have the opportunity to work through
these concepts at their own developmentally appropriate pace. (personal
communication, July 15, 2012)
My critiques had inadvertently offended the Science Department Chair who was a
powerful political player in the school. In his email, Eddie tempered my fervor a bit and
even offered to create an alternative:
I know there are a few who are frustrated with the idea that we want to change the
fifth grader’s role in science fair. It is important to note that we mean no
disrespect to [the Chair of the science department] (or anyone else). [The Chair of
the science department] is a solid colleague and friend and I would never want to
damage our relationship. We want 5th to play a role in the science fair by having
a week of “Science Demo Days.” This would be planned the same week as the
fair night. This new idea takes all the best of the traditional fifth grade
experiences into a week long celebratory science experience- further details can
44
be discussed in person, but it is important to know we do not want to completely
abandon the 5th grade connection to the fair. (personal communication, July 15,
2012)
I became increasingly cognizant that time was of the essence and the ability for us
to fully develop our pedagogical vision was drawing to a close. As if to confirm my
apprehensiveness, the new headmaster and Leeann called Eddie and I into a meeting a
few weeks before the start of the school year. During the meeting we were told that the
fifth grade participation in the science fair was mandatory. As if to emphasize the
exigency of the matter, Eddie recalls the Headmaster saying “I need to know now if
you’re not going to be able to do this” (personal communication, August 9, 2015). Given
no other options, we acquiesced to his demand.
The 2012-2013 school year: Pulling out all the stops. Our school was rapidly
moving toward a more standardized framework and this would essentially be the final
year teachers could develop curricular practices unique to their own classrooms. Eddie
and I decided to take our philosophy as far as we could.
In the meantime, Leeann began researching a number of prepackaged curricular
programs to adopt the following year. Her assistant, Nicole, recalled her choosing “a
Guided Reading program, Math program, Handwriting Without Tears, [and]
Spellography” (personal communication, July 22, 2015). Eddie remembers there was also
talk of instituting a Lower School and Middle School science program which was being
piloted in first and second grade classrooms (personal communication, August 16, 2015).
That year the Lower School teachers took part in mandatory weekly training sessions to
learn how to use the programs that would begin the following September. Rachel
believed these changes were put into effect because the Lower School:
45
Essentially had little to no vertical articulation of standards or curriculum, which
meant that each grade was a stand alone, doing what it wanted and felt was
“right” for its students, but without looking at what came before and what came
after thoroughly. While the independence and freedom was great for some who
enjoyed creating dynamic curricula and figuring out the needs of each group of
students, others were perhaps not updating their curricula to match the needs of
their current students. (personal communication, July 21, 2012)
In addition to establishing a standardized curriculum, Leeann was planning to
place Eddie and I in separate classrooms the following year. When I asked her about this,
Leeann told me she felt students had a difficult time learning in non-traditional classroom
settings, and that having us in separate classrooms would be more conducive to teacher
directed instruction. In an email to me concerning her own daughter, who was a student
in our classroom at that time, Leeann wrote, “as much as I love the fact that [my
daughter] loves STEAM, I worry that she, and others, do not have enough structure or
direct, undistracted instruction, to solidify concepts (personal communication, February
3, 2013). Leah recalls that:
The “state” of your classroom was a big issue for Leeann. It appeared “messy”
and was judged by many parents as “messy” and that value judgment began to
overshadow the work that you both were doing. We all had [Leeann’s daughter]
in the Bridge and that added another layer of parental concern. Leeann was also
much more aware of what was happening in our classrooms (versus other Lower
School classrooms) because she had a child in our classes. That said, Leeann was
dealing with massive issues all across the Lower School. She herself described
things as a minefield. Classrooms and teachers that for years had been perceived
as “running well” were finally being seen in a different light. (personal
communication, July 15, 2012)
Eddie and I were accustomed to our classroom being critiqued as messy,
disorganized, and chaotic by those who were not familiar, misunderstood or disagreed
with our pedagogy. However, “misinformed critics misdefining what we do” (Little &
Ellison, 2015, p. 28) has been an ongoing challenge for progressively minded educators.
46
Admittedly, the more agency we allowed our students, the less our classroom resembled
a traditional learning space. I contended that, although our organic approach might have
appeared unstructured, it actually necessitated a more complex structure. In fact,
“engaging in messiness…does not mean the teacher neglects planning. Instead, it requires
more thought than lessons ‘covering’ disciplinary material” (Marshall & Donahue, 2014,
p. 9).
Other nontraditional schools have made similar observations. In The Absorbent
Mind, Maria Montessori (1995) states “when we say that the children are free in our
schools, organization is necessary, an organization more detailed than in other schools”
(p. 363). The northern Italian Reggio Emilia approach to early childhood education
regards the classroom space as “a third teacher” that brings with it a host of variables
teachers must consider (Strong-Wilson & Ellis, 2007, p. 41). During the Open Classroom
movement, which began after World War II in Britain and spread to the United States,
teachers taught collaboratively and spaces were structured to foster student-directed
learning (Cuban, 2004). In fact, embracing messiness has always been part of the
philosophy of progressive education from since the turn of the century when Carolyn
Pratt, an early pioneer in the progressive movement, exclaimed that in her classroom
“nothing was fixed, nothing stayed put, not even the furniture; above all, not the
children!” (Little & Ellison, 2015, p. 153).
Ours was a “counter-hegemonic classroom” where the students had the “right to
direct the flow” of their learning and became “empowered democratic citizens”
(Kincheloe, 2008, p. 12). The traditional American classroom structure places the
“teacher in the front of the room” (Glasser, 1998, p. 6) where she “sets up her class her
47
way” (p. 97). Conversely, Eddie and I allowed the children to co-construct the space with
us so we could “draw more deeply on children’s perspectives” (Strong-Wilson & Ellis,
2007, p. 41). It was important to us that we critically examined our classroom
environment, routines, schedules, and curriculum with regularity to see how it affected
our students (Wurm, 2005). This empowerment manifested itself as an unorthodox
structure that for some appeared disorderly and threatening to the status quo of the
school. It also manifested itself in a surge of student-initiated creativity.
Realizing this would be the final year the school would allow Eddie and I to
practice our style of education together, I decided to use photographic and video data
from the 2012-2013 school year for my dissertation study on the self-initiated creativity
of children.
Figure 6a. Photo showing our classroom during the 2012-2013 school year. Students
were allowed to affix their work to the walls and arrange the furniture as they pleased.
48
Figure 6b. Photo showing our classroom during the 2012-2013 school year with a view
of the front of the room and the butcher-block tables.
Figure 6c. Photo showing our classroom during the 2012-2013 school year. Students
were allowed to hang their creative artifacts from the ceiling.
49
Figure 6d. View of our classroom during the 2012-2013 school year looking toward the
rear of the room showing the climbing wall section, snowshoes hanging by the back door,
and supply shelves in the back.
Student Agency and Self-initiated Creativity
My focus during the 2012-2013 school year on documenting the self-initiated
creative activity of children – a concept I will fully elaborate in the literature review of
the following chapter – was born of my long-standing fascination with the way children
organize and interact with their environments; I was curious to see what my students
would do if given license to fully curate their own classroom space. I was particularly
intrigued by the self-initiated creative endeavors that children engaged in within these
spaces. I considered a creative artifact to be self-initiated if it was something the student
created independently from a teacher-directed lesson, activity, or project.
I have found in my teaching experience that when children do not have agency,
their self-initiated creative spaces are usually small and often temporary: a locker, cubby,
50
inside of a desk or the seat of a chair. Many times children carried their creation with
them for fear of having it taken away. In these instances, the creative environment
became a pencil box, pocket, or even a closed fist. The items were usually made from the
detritus children acquired from classroom floors, while walking through the hallways or
when they had an opportunity to surreptitiously pilfer from a supply cabinet or teacher
desk. Traditional teaching methods suppress creativity and students have even been
punished for taking part in creative activity that was not sanctioned by the classroom
teacher (Beghetto & Kaufman, 2010).
Over the years I have witnessed many instances of teachers confiscating the
creative artifacts of children and treating these objects as contraband. Students who chose
to create surreptitiously during teacher-directed instruction were at the greatest risk. If
caught, they were in danger of not only having their creative artifact taken away, but also
of suffering punitive consequences such as a public scolding and loss of recess time. As
an artist, educator, and researcher I was interested in examining these creations and did
my best to put students at ease so they would feel free to engage in their self-initiated
creative activities. As an artist I was interested in the commonalities of these artifacts
with the work of adult artists and how they might parallel the discourse of contemporary
art. On the other hand, as an educator and researcher, I was interested in seeing if these
creative artifacts might help us understand the way children go about learning.
In 2009, I first began documenting my students’ self-initiated creations after
purchasing my first iPhone. The iPhone was more convenient and less obtrusive than
using film or digital cameras. Carrying it in my pocket made it readily available and it
contained more storage space than my digital camera. The earliest photographs show
51
artifacts made using tissues, rubber bands, wire, tape, string, sticks, scrap paper, and
cardboard. According to recent literature on creativity in education, “creating
environments in which students have autonomy also boosts creativity” (Fairweather &
Cramond, 2010, p. 116). This was my experience as well. As student autonomy
increased, so did the occurrences of self-initiated creativity in my classroom. Each year I
allowed my students more agency, which in turn led to an increased production in their
self-initiated creative artifacts and additional opportunities for me to document their
work. By the Fall of 2012, I was documenting my students’ creative artifacts on a daily
basis then at night loading them onto an external hard drive where they were organized in
digital files according to artistic medium and the date of creation.
Figure 7. Photo samples of my students’ self-initiated creations made during the 20092010 school year. Clockwise from top left: Throwing Weapon (stick, string, and tape);
Tissue Ball (tissues and rubber bands); Paper Creature (string, wire, paper, and
markers); Paper Box (copy paper, cardboard, tape, and string).
As our students became active agents in their learning, they began to develop
what Freire termed a ‘critical consciousness’ (2005) empowering them with a voice. This
‘critical consciousness’ enabled our students to influence curriculum and permitted us as
teachers to support individualized student interests and learning styles. According to
Shore, democratic classrooms draw on “the students’ interests…by basing the curriculum
52
in their language and understandings” (1992, p. 143). However, contemporary schooling
operates according to an established set of norms (Davis, 1995). Contemporary schooling
practices incorporate structures and standardizations that actively repress student agency
as they attempt to comply with federally mandated curricular outcomes and expectations
(Rolling, 2009).
Our private school did not have to comply with federal mandates to the extent that
public schools did, but these mandates and expectations had an effect in other ways.
According to U.S. News & World Report, four of our local public schools ranked within
the top 100 high schools in New York State (Morse, 2015). Having several districts in
our area that boasted top performing schools put pressure on our school to justify its
relatively high tuition costs. Many of our parents compared what was happening in our
classrooms with their local public schools. Families would pull their children if they
“didn’t feel like they were getting anything better or different from what [the public
schools] could offer” (Rachel, personal communication, July 21, 2015). Parents liked the
prestige of their children attending a private school that had smaller class sizes, and as
stated in the letter from the headmaster included in the school’s admission packet,
expected their children to be encouraged to “seek their own solutions—to think creatively
in all aspects of life.”
Yet at the same time, parents wanted to be sure their children would be able to
favorably compete with their age group peers in public school. The more traditionally
minded parents expected our school to offer “a ‘rigorous’ academic experience” (Rachel,
personal communication, July 21, 2015). It was this group of parents who were upset that
our “class did not look like students were learning the traditional basics in a way that
53
parents understood them to be best ‘acquired’ and ‘retained’ (Charlotte, personal
communication, July 19, 2015).
Student Agency and Arts-Based Inquiry
In my classroom I have noticed that offering choice and autonomy often produces
children who use arts-based approaches to inquiry and learning. According to Thomas
Barone and Elliot Eisner, arts based research uses “the forms of thinking and forms of
representation that the arts provide as means through which the world can be better
understood” (2012, p. xi). In Arts-Based Research in Education, Melisa CahnmannTaylor writes that the arts offer a way to make “thinking clearer, fresher, and more
public” (2008, p. 13). James Haywood Rolling Jr. proposes that, “the arts lend themselves
to blended spaces of naturalistic inquiry” (2013, p. 3, italics in original). In Arts-Centered
Learning Across the Curriculum, Julia Marshall and David Donahue (2014) define artscentered integrated learning as “applying the thinking strategies of art to knowledge in
other disciplines” (p. 11).
However, I was less interested in using art as a vehicle to support the learning of
academic subject areas than I was in the way my students gravitated toward practices
similar to those of contemporary artists when allowed greater agency in the classroom.
Contemporary artists may do research in language arts, history, mathematics, science,
and the social sciences (Marshall & Donahue, 2014) as part of their working process, but
these subject areas are only employed when necessitated by the work of art. Additionally,
contemporary art studios are no longer romanticized ateliers but divergent sites of
possibility “analogous to bricolage, ad hoc and fractured” (Jacob & Grabner, 2010, p. 4).
There were those in our school who expected a classroom to look and function in
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familiar ways. Charlotte remembers parents, faculty, and administrators who wanted to
see a “teacher at the board and students learning the rules in a teacher directed, organized
fashion” (personal communication, July 19, 2015). Nonetheless, there were always others
such as Nicole the administrative assistant, who were more accepting of our methods:
I hated interrupting your class to give you and Eddie handouts for backpacks, but
you never made me feel bad about that. You were always welcoming and I
appreciated that! I remember seeing the rock wall, stage, snow shoes, kids
working together, collaborating on projects, conversing with you and Eddie about
math problems, science experiments, etc. and thought to myself how innovative
the classroom was! It was something I hadn’t seen before. It was new, fresh, out
of box and the kids really seemed to dig it. (personal communication, July 22,
2015).
Our environment led to spontaneous creative learning experiences. In a childcentered classroom, an organic and malleable framework must be in place for teachers to
properly engage with student interest as they arose. Teachers working like Eddie and
myself must be able to adapt and adjust to the continual ebb and flow of the energy level
within the classroom that is an evolving site for arts-based inquiry and reflection.
Chapter Overview
In Chapter Two, I provide a review of the literature as it pertains to my study.
First, I discuss the term creativity by highlighting the dispositions and features associated
with creativity in research literature. Then, I use these dispositions and features to
generate a definition of self-initiated creativity for this study. Next, I discuss the role of
agency in traditional, progressive, and contemporary education and describe self-initiated
creativity from a variety of perspectives. Finally, I explore the relationship between
student agency and self-initiated creativity in the elementary classroom.
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In Chapter Three, I describe the research methodology used to conduct this study
and the procedures used to gather the data. I first discuss how my multiple roles as a
teacher, researcher, and artist impacted the study and then give an overview of action
research and my rationale for using it to conduct this investigation. Next, I describe the
research site and explain how the data was collected, organized, and coded.
In Chapter Four, I present my findings by offering detailed descriptions and
photographs of the data set. The data is presented within the context of the classroom
environment at the research site and includes the voices of my students along with
accounts of their creative interactions.
In Chapter Five, I analyze the data set and explain how thirteen emergent themes
eventually yielded eight fundamental attributes that characterize the self-initiated creative
learning of children.
In Chapter Six, I describe and discuss six essential pedagogical principles that
were in place allowing the attributes of self-initiated creative learning to occur in my
elementary classroom.
In Chapter Seven, I conclude by summarizing the chapters and discussing the
implications of a pedagogical practice that allows student agency and encourages creative
learning explorations.
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CHAPTER 2 - Literature Review
Dispositions and Features Associated with Creativity
According to Moran and John-Steiner (2003) contemporary research on creativity
has focused on the “cognitive and personality traits associated with creativity” and “now
it is time to study how those traits come to be, how they develop in specific contexts…to
capture creativity in the making” (p. 84). That is what this study set out to do: to observe,
document, and study children in the creative act and better understand what these acts tell
us about the ways in which children go about the learning process and navigating a
classroom space.
This dissertation examines the self-initiated creativity of children within the
context of an elementary school classroom setting and the action research of a
professional teacher. The first subchapter of this literature review is a discussion on the
term creativity. Definitions of creativity are difficult to pin down because they change
depending on different contexts and cultures (Kaufman & Sternberg, 2007; Starko, 2010;
Tillander, 2011). Pitri observed that definitions of creativity “vary and focus on the
person, the process itself, or its product or outcome” (2013, p. 42). This section will assist
in the development of a working definition of creativity for this study in its focus on the
self-initiated artifacts children make in the context of an elementary classroom setting.
A review of the literature yielded six main perspectives associated with creativity:
•
Creativity does not have a universally shared definition.
•
Creativity is part of the human experience.
•
Creativity is organically structured, contextually dependent, and socially situated.
•
Creativity requires supportive environments.
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•
Creativity involves risk-taking, personal agency, and a departure from the status
quo.
•
Creativity incorporates ideas, actions, and objects valued for their novelty and
usefulness toward innovation.
Creativity does not have a universally shared definition. There has been much
written about creativity but scholars have not yet developed a comprehensive and
uniform definition (Baldwin, 2010; Gardner, 1993; Gardner, 2011; Hanson & Herz,
2011; Milbrandt & Milbrandt, 2011; Skiba, Tan, Sternberg, & Grigorenko, 2010;
Sternberg & Lubart, 1999; Starko, 2010; Weisberg, 2015). Some researchers are
concerned that the lack of a shared definition hinders the growth of creativity research in
educational contexts (Milbrandt & Milbrandt, 2011; Skiba, Tan, Sternberg, &
Grigorenko, 2010; Zimmerman, 2009). In the literature, the use of the term creativity
encompasses a wide range of “situations, individuals, and products” (Gardner, 2011, p.
19) as well as practices, connotations, and implications (Csikszentmihalyi, 1997). Over
the past six decades a variety of definitions of the term creativity have been developed.
In 1950, psychologist Joy P. Guilford “issued a call for psychologists to address
creativity as a topic in its own right” (Weisberg, 2015, p. 111). Guilford was interested in
determining an individual’s potential for creativity by measuring their ability to think
divergently (Gardner, 2011). Three years later, Morris Stein proposed what has since
become a popular definition of creativity (Runco & Jaeger, 2012). Stein defined
creativity as the production of something that is considered new, useful, and “resonates
with the needs or experiences of a group at some point in time” (Stein, 1953, p. 322) In
1969, Frank Barron used the criteria “originality and meaningfulness” (Richards, 2010, p.
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354). Later, Bruner added “the element of surprise” (Nickerson, 1999, p. 393) to the
criterion of “novelty and value” (Weisberg, 2015, p. 111).
Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi called attention to Stein’s dilemma of examining
creativity through subjective and objective lenses. Although Csikszentmihalyi preferred
to study creativity subjectively, he felt it was not feasible to do so without adopting
criterion that included “a social or cultural evaluation” (1997, p. 403). Therefore, his
systems view of creativity developed in the late 1980’s emphasized that an individual’s
work must become, or eventually become, “positively evaluated by the field” (Weisberg,
2015, p. 112) or domain in which they operate. Csikszentmihalyi defined the field as “the
group of gatekeepers who are entitled to select a novel idea or product for consideration”
and the domain as “the symbolic system of rules and procedures that define permissible
action within its boundaries” (Csikszentmihalyi, 2015, p. 68). Csikszentmihalyi also
chose to shift his explication on creativity from the standard, “What is creativity?” to
“Where is creativity?” (Gardner, 2011, p. 37), determining that creativity exists in “the
dynamic interaction among three nodes” (Gardner, 1993, p. 35) of the individual, the
field, and the domain (Csikszentmihalyi, 1997). Csikszentmihalyi recognized that this
type of definition “goes against a powerful axiom of the times” (1997, p. 403) by
situating creativity outside the individual and within the social collective.
In 1993, Howard Gardner made a distinction between what he called “big C
creativity” and “little C creativity” (Gardner, 1993, p. 29). According to Gardner, big C
creativity encompasses exceptional creative breakthroughs that have a large-scale, social
impact such as those by Picasso and Einstein whereas little C creativity happens more
frequently and is the “sort which all of us evince in our daily lives” (Gardner, 1993, p.
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29). Other researchers have used the descriptors, “personal creativity” (Runco, 2007, p.
92), “everyday creativity” (Richards, 2010, p. 209), “low-range creativity” (Feldman,
2003, p. 219), “classroom creativity” (Perkins & Carter, 2011, p. 20), “relative
originality” (p. 212), and “originality of everyday life” (p. 213) to denote little C
creativity.
Beghetto & Kaufman added “mini-c” to expand the nomenclature. They defined
mini-c creativity as “the novel and personally meaningful interpretation of experiences,
actions, and events” (2007, p. 73). According to Beghetto and Kaufman (2007), mini-c
creativity differs from other forms of creativity in that it is solely up to the individual to
determine novelty and meaningfulness, instead of depending on interpersonal, societal, or
historical assessments of creativity. Mini-c creativity recognizes the connection between
learning and creativity where learning is not a passive experience but an active
“interpretive and transformative process” (Beghetto and Kaufman, 2007, p. 73).
Similar to the concept of big and little C creativity, Margaret Boden, designated
psychological creativity or P-creativity, as the creativity possessed by a person who
regularly produces creative ideas. Boden identified historical or H-creativity as
something that takes place when a person is recognized as creative by the greater
community. According to Boden, P-creativity happens when a person comes up with an
idea that they find new, surprising, and valuable even if it already exists. Whereas ideas
that are considered H-creative, “means that (so far as we know) no one else has had it
before” (Boden, 1991, p. 2) or as Weisberg (2015) put it, creative on an “intrapersonal
level” (p. 113).
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Educator Enid Zimmerman found it problematic that any definition of creativity
would be premised on “changing a domain and ways of thinking within that domain”
(2009, p. 387), because this viewpoint excludes recognizing children as creative agents.
Nickerson (1999) also suggested that definitions of creativity should not be dependent
upon a creative act being widely recognized as such or equated with prominent
accomplishments (Runco, 2014). Some believe creativity can be defined from both group
and individual perspectives (Sawyer, 2003), while others believe the type of thinking that
occurs during big C creativity and everyday creativity is essentially the same (Kaufman
& Sternberg, 2007).
Clearly, it has been difficult for researchers over recent decades to define and
derive one criteria delineating a single overarching definition of creativity (Baldwin,
2010; Milbrandt & Milbrandt, 2011; Skiba, Tan, Sternberg, & Grigorenko, 2010;
Sternberg & Lubart, 1999); this necessitates the development of a definition of creativity
designed specifically for this particular study.
Creativity is part of the human experience. The literature suggests creativity is
integral to the human experience (Csikszentmihalyi, 1997; Gnezda, 2011). Researchers
believe that, although people engage in varying degrees of creative interactions and
production, everyone has the capability of creative thought (Amabile, 2001; Feldman,
1994; Florida, 2012; Gnezda, 2011; Kaufman & Sternberg, 2007; Moran & John-Steiner,
2003; Nickerson, 2006; Rubin, 1968; Runco, 2014). Some go so far as to suggest that
creativity is a biological necessity (Dissanayake, 1988; Freedman, 2010), part of the
evolutionary process (Csikszentmihalyi, 1997; Dissanayake, 2003), and makes Homo
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sapiens unique from the rest of the animal kingdom (Csikszentmihalyi, 1997; Florida,
2012).
Most researchers make a distinction between “everyday creativity” and “worldchanging creativity” that “requires extensive knowledge and mastery within a field”
(Perkins & Carter, 2011, p. 20). World-changing creativity offers transformative
contributions (Moran & John-Steiner, 2003) while everyday creativity provides day-today pleasurable experiences (Csikszentmihalyi, 1997; Freedman, 2010).
Creativity is organically structured, contextually dependent, and socially
situated. The creative process is not a linear but a “complex construct” (Starko, 2010, p.
289) assuming myriad approaches involving adjustments, alterations, modifications, and
revisions (Bryant, 2010; Csikszentmihalyi, 1997; Hanson & Herz, 2011; Jaquith, 2011;
Marshall, 2010; Moran & John-Steiner, 2003; Piirto, 2010; Richards, 2010). In the
literature, creativity is described as experiential, open-ended, multidirectional,
multidimensional, complex, integrated, and interconnected (Csikszentmihalyi, 1997;
Florida, 2012; Gnezda, 2011; Hanson & Herz, 2011; Moran & John-Steiner, 2003;
Starko, 2010; Zimmerman, 2009).
In addition to the attributes listed, creativity has a significant social construct and
function (Florida, 2012; Freedman, 2010; Henderson, 2013; Milbrandt, M, & Milbrandt,
2011; Moran & John-Steiner, 2003; Rolling, 2013b; Tillander, 2011; Zimmerman, 2009).
Florida (2012) considers various forms of creativity to be mutually beneficial, as they
contribute inspiration, stimulation, and encouragement to the collective. According to
Csikszentmihalyi (1997), creativity is a “systemic rather than an individual phenomenon”
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(p. 23) because it happens at the intersection of a person’s thoughts and the sociocultural
context in which they exist.
In classrooms, creative problem solving is a recursive, multitudinous process that
“allows for diverse interpretations of situations and multiple uses of materials” (Pitri,
2013, p. 44). Creative engagement helps children adapt to new situations, work
collaboratively and generate novel ideas (Csikszentmihalyi, 1997; Freedman, 2010; Pitri,
2013). Creativity encourages children to offer feedback and critically reflect on their own
learning (Bryant, 2010; Milbrandt & Milbrandt, 2011).
In organically structured learning environments students “revisit an idea or
process repeatedly to explore deeper and develop mastery” (Jaquith, 2011, p. 18) and
“challenge themselves to take risks” (p. 15). Teachers, who allow self-governance and
encourage ingenuity in their classrooms, generate creative behaviors in their students
(Starko, 2010). Creative thinking is a central element in contextualized teaching and
learning approaches where children are able to better retain information that is presented
in relevant and meaningful ways (Starko, 2010).
However, standardized and regulated educational systems suppress opportunities
for choice, intuitiveness, flexibility, contemplation, and divergent thinking integral to the
creative process (Gude, 2010; Jaquith, 2011; Milbrandt & Milbrandt, 2011; Nickerson,
2010; Nordlund, 2013; Starko, 2010). Teachers, therefore, have the onerous task of
generating creative experiences within environments that are resistant to holistic
explorations and preference linear and formulaic approaches to education (Gude, 2010;
Hanson & Herz, 2011).
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Creativity requires supportive environments. Supportive environments are
necessary in order for creativity to flourish (Bryant, 2010; Gnezda, 2011; Kaufman &
Sternberg, 2007; Nordlund, 2013; Pitri, 2013; Shin, 2010; Starko, 2010). Environments
that value individual input (Florida, 2012; Gnezda, 2011), provide safe spaces for
exploration and experimentation (Gude, 2010; Nickerson, 1999; Richards, 2010), and
allow choice and autonomy (Csikszentmihalyi, 1997; Gude, 2010; Jaquith, 2011; Pitri,
2013).
Starko (2010) claimed, “the procedures that are supportive of creativity also are
supportive of learning” (p. 225). According to Milbrandt and Milbrandt (2011), “the most
essential quality of self-expression and the construction of meaning is that students view
their processes and/or products as a meaningful representation of their personal
experiences” (p. 11). When students take part in learning of their own choosing, it is
relevant to them, and leads to in-depth understandings (Starko, 2010).
Creativity involves risk-taking, personal agency, and a departure from the
status quo. It is well documented in the literature that risk-taking is a fundamental aspect
of the creative process (Csikszentmihalyi, 1997; Florida, 2012; Hanson & Herz, 2011;
Kaufman, J., & Sternberg, 2007; Nickerson, 2010; Pitri, 2013; Piirto, 2010; Richards,
2010; Shin, 2010; Starko, 2013). Other traits commonly associated with the creative
process include a strong sense of personal agency and a departure from the status quo
(Bryant, 2010; Csikszentmihalyi, 1997; Florida, 2012; Gardner, 2011; Gude, 2010;
Hanson & Herz, 2011; Moran, & John-Steiner, 2003; Nakamura, 2003; Nickerson, 1999;
Nickerson, 2010; Pitri, 2013; Richards, 2010; Starko, 2010; Tillander, 2011; Zimmerman,
2009). Creative work “disrupts existing patterns of thought and life” (Florida, 2012, p.
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19) through a practice of experimentation and unconventional methodologies (Shin,
2010). The idiosyncrasy of creative practices also provides a way for individuals to enact
a sense of personal agency and empowerment (Milbrandt & Milbrandt, 2011).
In the classroom, engaging in creative modes of learning provides students a way
to question assumptions, take chances, and subsequently, become more self-assured
(Hanson & Herz, 2011). Students involved in creative problem solving think divergently
and often generate solutions that go “beyond assigned tasks” (Pitri, 2013, p. 44) and
“conventional ways of knowing” (Zimmerman, 2009, p. 386). However, communities
and institutions reward those who propagate its routines and traditions (Nakamura, 2003)
whereas divergent thinking that runs counter to conventional practices and expectations is
“perceived as deviant by the majority” (Csikszentmihalyi, 1997, p. 74). Therefore,
students who exhibit creative behaviors that question conventional thinking and challenge
routine practices run the risk of being regarded as uncooperative, defiant, and difficult
(Nickerson, 1999; Richards, 2010; Skiba, Tan, Sternberg, & Grigorenko, 2010; Starko,
2010; Zimmerman, 2009).
Creativity includes ideas, actions, and objects valued for their novelty and
usefulness toward innovation. Contemporary understandings of creativity make us
aware of how ideas, actions, and objects valued by individuals for their novelty and
usefulness in the effort to innovate anew (Csikszentmihalyi, 1997; Florida, 2012;
Freedman, 2010; Gardner, 2011; Gnezda, 2011; Gude, 2010; Hanson & Herz, 2011;
Kaufman & Sternberg, 2007; Moran & John-Steiner, 2003; Nickerson, 1999; Pitri, 2013;
Richards, 2012; Runco & Jaeger, 2012; Shin, 2010; Tillander, 2011; Weisberg, 2015;
Zimmerman, 2009). Newness may come in the form of innovation, transformation or
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fresh insights (Csikszentmihalyi, 1997; Florida, 2012). New attempts to innovate can
result in novel theories, practical solutions to problems or aesthetically pleasing works of
art (Florida, 2012).
Some scholars conceptualize creativity as the introduction of a product or idea
accepted as revolutionary by a domain because it “transforms existing industries”
(Florida, 2012, p. 19) or “changes a field of endeavor in a significant way” (Baldwin,
2010, p. 75) leaving “a trace in the cultural matrix” (Csikszentmihalyi, 1997, p. 27).
According to Gardner (2011), “nothing is, or is not, creative in and of itself. Creativity is
inherently a communal or cultural judgment” (p. 36).
Other scholars feel differently. They consider classrooms and individual
experiences as significant domains (Milbrandt & Milbrandt, 2011; Perkins & Carter,
2011; Zimmerman, 2009). According to Jaquith (2011), “in education, ideas that are
novel to a learner can be considered creative” (p. 14). Weisberg (2015) suggested that
creativity might occur “on an intrapersonal level” or “within the frame of a person’s life”
(p. 113). Csikszentmihalyi (2003) does not agree. He believes schools are not intended to
enhance creativity, but instead are “designed to transmit the domain, the results of past
creative achievements that have become part of the culture” (p. 220).
Creativity in the Classroom
At the turn of the 20th century, educators began to think of children as creative
agents (Freedman, 2010). Children have qualities, such as curiosity, that adults associate
with manifestations of creativity (Csikszentmihalyi, 2003; Feldman, 2003). However,
some scholars make a distinction between adult creativity and the behaviors of children
they feel are misconstrued as creative (Csikszentmihalyi, 2003; Nakamura, 2003). Others
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“distinguish among various forms of creative activity” (Feldman, 2003, p. 219) and view
creative actions in children as part of a developmental continuum (Moran, 2003).
Some recognize children as having creative potential or as creative agents in their
own right (Parkhurst, 1999; Pitri, 2013; Runco, 2014). Jaquith (2011) considers students
creative when they generate new ideas or make meaningful connections in the classroom.
Although “education has historically ignored or even undermined creative thinking”
(Skiba, Tan, Sternberg, & Grigorenko, 2010, p. 258) some researchers insist that
creativity and learning are interconnected (Beghetto & Kaufman, 2007) and that creative
thinking is, in fact, a “necessity in the classroom” (Skiba, Tan, Sternberg, & Grigorenko,
2010, p. 253).
Nevertheless, the attributes associated with nurturing creativity in the classroom
contradict traditional schooling customs and protocols. For example, creativity requires
time for contemplation, experimentation, and playful exploration but fixed schedules and
predetermined curriculums found in schools prevent these practices (Baldwin, 2010;
Csikszentmihalyi, 1997; Gnezda, 2011; Gude, 2010; Jaquith, 2011; Marshall, 2010;
Moran & John-Steiner, 2003; Nickerson, 1999; Nordlund, 2013; Pitri, 2013; Richards,
2010; Shin, 2010). Creativity is an intrinsically motivated process requiring commitment
and perseverance (Csikszentmihalyi, 1997; Feldman, 2003; Florida, 2012; Freedman,
2010; Gardner, 2011; Jaquith, 2011; Pitri, 2013; Shin, 2010). But “creative individuals
almost always persist and struggle over self-selected tasks, not over those assigned by
others” (Starko, 2010, p. 96), causing the intrinsic motivation for self-selected pursuits to
run against the grain of rote classroom learning exercises that follow teacher-imposed
rather than student-directed approaches (Gnezda, 2011; Gude, 2010).
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Many scholars agree that creative thinking and doing provides ways of knowing,
making meaning, and understanding the world (Freedman, 2010; Gnezda, 2011;
Henderson, 2013; Marshall, 2010; Nordlund, 2013; Peralta, 2010; Rolling, 2013b). The
argument can be made then, that children should be given time to engage in self-directed,
intrinsically motivated, creative activities even in classroom environments (Freedman,
2010; Gnezda, 2011; Hanson & Herz, 2011).
Creativity as Defined in this Study
Although it would seem daunting to distill a common definition of creativity from
the preceding compendium of research and diverse perspectives on creativity, it is also
important to acknowledge the complexity of multiple definitions and theories in
constructing a working definition to facilitate the remainder of this study. The working
definition of creativity for this study is necessarily composed of attributes drawn from the
various existing definitions discussed in this review of the literature, particularly those
deemed relevant to the general elementary classroom environment in which this study
took place.
First, the children in this study are considered to be creative agents since the data
collected was in the form of student-produced artifacts and actions. Second, it is
reasonable to assume that the children in this study regarded their artifacts and actions
meaningful and valuable because of the self-initiated and voluntary nature of their
engagement in the production of these artifacts and actions. Third, the classroom is
considered a significant domain and the students who were members of that classroom,
the field, reflecting a microcosm of Csikszentmihalyi’s (1997) systemic model of creative
activity consisting of the interaction between the individual, the domain, and the field.
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Therefore, for the purpose of this study, creativity is defined as the meaning-making
process and the material results of the self-initiated creative actions of children within a
general elementary classroom setting. These artifacts produced from these self-initiated
actions include: two-dimensional renderings, three-dimensional objects, interior design
and organization, and live or recorded activities such as music, dance, and movie-making.
Agency in Education
Agency plays an important role in the dynamics of a classroom environment.
Having choice in and ownership of learning experiences fosters a greater sense of self,
personal investment, and connectedness for students (Killeen, Evans, & Danko, 2003).
However, the customs and conventions of most schooling environments are influenced by
an emphasis on testing and highly regulated standardized objectives (Freedman, 2007).
These practices result in the “subordination of students” (Winograd, 2002, p. 347) as a
“culturally and socially dominated group” (Montandon & Osiek, 1998, p. 248). In
response, many children view their time in school as a burdensome task rather than a
fulfilling learning experience (Windograd, 2002). Yet, the amount of agency students are
allowed has an effect on the level of their creative engagement (Andrews, 2005).
There is provocative literature concerning agency in elementary classrooms that
examines the effects of choice in creative motivation (Amabile & Gitomer, 1984;
Andrews, 2005). The literature demonstrates that opportunities for students to engage in
self-directed learning are necessary for establishing classrooms conducive to creative
modes of thinking (de Souza Fleith, 2000; Lund, 1994).
Agency in traditional education. In traditional classrooms, the teacher controls
the learning and directs the action through a variety of practices, customs, and procedures
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(Cuban, 1993). Of course, power structures between teachers and their students are
“negotiated and constructed in the context of the experience” (Winograd, 2002, p. 353).
However, traditional schooling and classroom disciplinary structures are designed to
privilege teacher prerogative over student agency and clearly communicate the “teachers’
expectations to students” (Poole & Evertson, 2013, p. 189). Various methodologies and
practices are established to govern the classroom discourse, physical setting, and
movement of bodies (Kear, 2007). For example, the power of the teacher is demonstrated
through common classroom management techniques and practices such as hand raising,
predetermined seating arrangements, and transition management (Emmer & Sabornie,
2013; Sahlström, 2002; Wheldall & Bradd, 2013).
Traditional classroom discourses are led, organized, and moderated by the teacher
(Cuban, 1993; Elmore, 1996). To participate in class discussions, students are required to
raise their hands to get the attention of the teacher (Madsen, Becker, & Thomas, 1968).
This method ensures that the teacher is “the main source of information” (Elmore, 1996,
p. 2) and controls the conversation by choosing which students will be allowed to add to
the dialogue and in what sequence (Beghetto, 2009). Additionally, the teacher has the
opportunity to speak during every alternate turn within the sequence of the conversation
while the students must wait to be called upon relegating them to a passive role (Narayan,
Heward, Gardner, Courson, & Omness, 1990; Sahlström, 2002). Once allowed to speak,
the students mainly direct their communiqués to the teacher. This unidirectional approach
creates a dialogue between the teacher and the students as a “collective speaking partner”
(Sahlström, 2002, p. 48) instead of each student acting as an individual agent. Therefore,
the practice of hand-raising is used to monitor class participation and manage student
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behavior as much as it is to engage students in learning (Reglin, Akpo-Sanni, & LosikeSedimo, 2012; Sahlström, 2002).
Students are also managed and their behaviors controlled by prearranged seating
arrangements. Requiring students to sit in assigned seats organized in rows is “one of the
easiest, most cost-effective classroom management tactics available to teachers” (Bicard,
Bicard, Baylot-Casey, & Ervin, 2012, p. 407). In traditional settings, “the teacher situates
students in such a way as to minimize communication between them and to allow
surveillance of all students” (Lefstein, 2012, p. 1629). Assigned seating, and row seating
in particular, is an effective form of teacher control that results in the least amount of
student autonomy (Simmons, Carpenter, Crenshaw, & Hinton, 2015).
Transition times are moments that occur in general classroom settings between
activities. A transition occurs when students segue from one lesson to another or from an
activity in the classroom to an activity in another part of the school. In traditional school
settings, “transitions are unique in that there is no focal content or tight structure to help
hold order in place” (Emmer & Sabornie, 2013, p. 390); transitions are considered to be a
“catalyst for student misbehavior” (Pool & Everston, 2013, p. 189). Therefore, teachers
employ classroom management strategies to ensure that students transition in an orderly
manner, whether it be within the immediate area of their seat or when they are required to
exit the classroom, navigate the hallways, or enter another room. Student compliance
during transitions is so necessary to successful classroom management that transition
procedures include a complex system of visual cues, auditory signals, and verbal
reminders that are taught and then frequently practiced throughout the school year
(Marzano, Marzano, & Pickering 2003; Pool & Everston, 2013). These methods are said
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to help students “become self-regulating” (Pool & Everston, 2013, p. 189) and it has been
argued that the “fundamental task of teachers is to influence or control students to behave
in a manner that will lead to their learning” (Winograd, 2002, p. 346). However, teachers
are also subjected to pressures from state and federal mandates that dictate curriculum
and content through a framework of imposed standards and assessments (Sparapani,
Perez, Gould, Hillman, & Clark, 2014). These hierarchical directives exacerbate a
teacher’s need to maintain the tightest possible control over their classroom, further
limiting opportunities for the creative agency of students (Beghetto, 2009; Freedman,
2007; Freeman, Mathison, & Wilcox, 2012).
These examples show how the hierarchical construct of traditional schooling
environments with “tightly governed curricula and regulated pedagogies” (Roberts, 2008,
p. 20) undermine student agency and diminish the space for student creativity (Beghetto,
2009).
Agency in progressive education. Many scholars trace the practices and
ideologies of progressive education back to 1762 with the publication of philosopher
Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s Emile, followed soon thereafter by the learner-centered ideas
and practices put forth by Johann Pestalozzi and later Friedrich Froebel in the early 19th
century (Cuban, 1993; Henson, 2003; Howlett, 2013; Montandon & Osiek, 1998; Reese,
2001; Vanada, 2010; Worley, 2012). Rousseau denounced institutionalized learning
methodologies favoring instead a “natural education” (Masters, 2015, p. 6) free from
societal demands, based on a child’s interests and self-initiated discovery (Little &
Ellison, 2002; Reese, 2001). Rousseau’s writings inspired subsequent proponents of
child-centered educational philosophies and practices although some considered his
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notions an overly romanticized and sentimental interpretation of childhood (Bresler,
1999; Campbell, 2011; Engel, 1995; Leeds, 1989; Louis, 2005; Simspon, 1996).
Even so, most of America’s early public schools were influenced by Prussia’s
educational system, “in which schools both looked and operated like factories, with strict
routines marked off by the ringing of bells” (Little & Ellison, 2002, p. 35). Students sat at
desks in rows bolted to the floor, learned by rote in crowded classrooms, and were
subjected to corporeal punishment (Little & Ellison, 2002). It was in the context of this
factory school model of routine, repetition, and uniformity that the progressive education
movement grew (Cuban, 1993; Gill & Schlossman, 1996; Kincheloe, Slattery, &
Steinberg, 2000; Waks, 2013). The contemporary conception of progressive education
emerged at the close of the nineteenth century. In the late 1800s Francis W. Parker, as the
superintendent of schools in Quincy Massachusetts and later as the principal of Cook
County Normal School in Chicago, promoted classrooms that encouraged creative
spontaneity and self-expression (Little & Ellison, 2002; Sidelnick, 1995). In fact, John
Dewey referred to Parker as the father of progressive education (Biesta & Miedema,
1996; Cuban, 1993).
By the beginning of the twentieth century, ideas about progressive education were
centered on the theories of John Dewey who promoted child-centered pedagogies within
democratic learning environments (Burke, 2013; Elmore, 1996; Howlett, 2013;
Kincheloe, Slattery, & Steinberg, 2000; Raywid, 1976; Stack & Wamba, 2011; Waterson,
2013; Wolk, 2008; Worley, 2012). Dewey believed that schools should be connected to
their “surrounding natural and social environments” (Waks, 2013, p. 75). Dewey
empowered children as active agents in their own learning by basing curriculum on their
73
interests and lived experiences (Kincheloe, 2008; Lim, 2004; Marshall & Donahue, 2014;
Raywid, 1976; Roberts, 2008; Wade, 1995). Additionally, Dewey recognized creativity
as an important part of the learning process (Boone, 2007; Hanson, 2006; Starko, 2010;
Sternberg, 2015).
Other progressive educators soon followed Dewey by incorporating progressive
educational practices into their classroom environments. Dewey’s contemporary, Marie
Montessori, introduced her method of teaching young children based on their
psychological, physical, and cognitive development (Howlett, 2013). Her implementation
of sequenced lessons and activities included aspects of student choice but within a
framework that some progressive educators found too limiting (Howlett, 2013; Mayer
2005).
A few years later Carolyn Pratt founded the City and Country School in
Greenwich Village where she promoted student-centered approaches and encouraged free
play and discovery-based learning (Christensen, Kohler & Aldridge, 2012; Little &
Ellison, 2002; Townsend & Ryan, 2012). During the same time period Margaret
Naumburg advocated for creative self-expression and is best remembered for laying the
groundwork for art therapy (Mayer, 2005). In 1913, Naumburg studied with Marie
Montessori but considered the Montessori method too restrictive. Instead, Naumburg
founded the Walden School in 1914 emphasizing a philosophy of free exploration and
creative expression (Hinitz, 2013). Both Naumburg and Dewey recognized the
therapeutic aspects of art and made creativity a central part of the curriculum. However,
Dewey emphasized art and creativity “more as an aspect of community experience and
Naumburg, as an outlet for repressed feelings of the individual” (Engel, 1995, p. 10).
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During the same time period, philosopher Rudolf Steiner opened his Waldorf
School in Stuttgart Germany. Like Montessori, Steiner concerned himself with the
developmental stages of children but with a focus on the child’s creative and imaginative
capabilities (Edwards, 2002; Howlett, 2013; Nordlund, 2013). He wanted his students to
be “self-reliant thinkers” who retained a “sense of wonder” about the world (p. 15).
Steiner’s Waldorf School took a holistic approach to develop the spiritual as well as
intellectual qualities of children (Edwards, 2002; Howlett, 2013). Meanwhile in England,
A. S. Neil founded an independent boarding school he called the Summerhill School.
Some considered Summerhill an extreme form of democratic learning because of the
level of governance the students had, such as the “freedom to decide if they want to
attend class or not” (Little & Ellison, 2002, p. 154). Others viewed it as the incarnation of
an idealized democratic learning environment where children and adults were considered
equal (Howlett, 2013).
Following the Second World War the Reggio Emilia school, named after the city
in northern Italy, was established for preschool and primary age children. The Reggio
Emilia approach enacted democratically based learning and student agency in a variety of
forms. Teachers and students were co-constructors of the curriculum and children were
encouraged to follow lines of inquiry that were of interest to them (Pitri, 2003; Tavin,
2010; Thompson, 2014; Wilson, 2005). Creativity was an important aspect of the Reggio
Emilia approach and the arts were considered integral to the learning process as a way of
“exploring, representing, solidifying and clarifying understandings of the world”
(Thompson, 2014, p. 380).
Although there were variations in how the practitioners of the progressive
75
education movement enacted their respective pedagogical praxes, they each included
child-centered, collaborative, and integrated pedagogies that empowered students to
become critical agents in their learning (Bruce, 2013; Elmore, 1996; Howlett, 2013;
Marshall, 2014a; Marshall & Donahue, 2014; Pecore & Bruce, 2013; Waks, 2013). The
progressive movement attempted to change schooling from a teacher-centered to a
student-centered pedagogical model that provided opportunities for children to engage in
creative learning that was relevant and meaningful to them (Cuban, 1993; Elmore, 1996).
Agency in contemporary education. By the time of Dewey’s death in 1952 the
progressive educational movement was in decline. The practitioners of the progressive
education movement were criticized as having “a preoccupation with self-expression
rather than learning” (Elmore, 1996, p. 10). It is widely accepted that the creative
pedagogies, individual freedoms, and social justice issues of the progressive era were
superseded by a pendulum swing toward increasing standardization, a reaction stemming
from growing conservative values infiltrating education (Beane, 1998; Little & Ellison,
2002).
Creativity reentered the national discourse on education following the successful
launching of the Soviet Sputnik satellite in 1957 (Doll, 1993; Esquivel, 1995; Glasser,
1969). A year later the United States passed the National Defense Education Act that was
a “comprehensive educational reform bill to strengthen teacher practices in the areas of
math and science, foreign languages, and creative arts” (Esquivel, 1995, p. 187). This
movement shared some progressive educational practices such as students engaging in
hands-on explorations, however, the main thrust was on mathematical and scientific
content rather than creative expression (Elmore, 1996; Kincheloe, Slattery, & Steinberg,
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2000; Tyack & Cuban, 1997).
During the 1960s and 1970s there was a brief resurgence of progressive
educational ideas and practices that advocated “child-centeredness and social reform”
over “deadening routines, tyrannical authority, and passive learning” (Cuban, 1993, p.
151). Integrated learning, cooperative group work, small group instruction, and flexible
classroom arrangements were attempted to varying degrees. However, this new
progressive era was short lived as a focus on basic skills and test scores started gaining
traction in the mid-1970s (Cuban, 1993).
A national call for improved standards came in 1983 with the publication of A
Nation at Risk by The Commission on Excellence in Education (Barrett, 2009; Elmore,
1996). The report started a chain reaction of educational initiatives that sought to attain
academic rigor in core subject areas by standardizing curricula and using systems of
high-stakes testing to measure student performance and assure teacher accountability
(Schwarzmueller & Rinaldo). Then in 2001, President George W. Bush signed the No
Child Left Behind (NCLB) Act empowering the “federal government to enact an
overhaul of the educational system by constructing policies to revamp curriculum,
instruction, assessment, and teaching” (Fletcher, 2006, p. 158). NCLB ushered in a new
era of public schooling that privileged standards-based accountability and high stakes
testing of basic skills over creative thinking (Chapman, 2005; Pecore & Bruce, 2013).
Some argue that NCLB had a “larger agenda of privatization and marketization” (Apple,
2007, p. 110) where the marketplace became the prime concern allowing a “culture of
testing” (Giroux & Saltman, 2009, p. 777) to replace teachers as autonomous
professionals, students as engaged critical learners, and schools as democratic venues.
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According to Hennessey and Watson (2016), “across the past few decades,
opportunities for the development and exercise of creativity in the U.S. schools have been
continually eroded” (p. 23). They argue that nationally mandated educational initiatives
such as NCLB and the more recent Common Core pressure teachers to follow numerous
regulations and employ frequent testing leaving scarce opportunities or space for creative
classroom practices. However, Beghetto, Kaufman, and Baer (2015) contend, “teachers
can still do much to support student creativity and meaningful learning in the context of
the Common Core” (p. 12). They acknowledge the difficulties but feel that creativity and
the common core standards are not diametrically opposed.
The Self-Initiated Creativity of Children in the Elementary Classroom
This study examines the self-initiated creative processes and products of fourth
and fifth graders over the course of the 2012-2013 school year. In this research the term
self-initiated is used to denote meaningful creative artifacts or creative processes
generated by a student or group of students via their own agency and on occasions and in
spaces of their own choosing. The creative artifacts include two-dimensional renderings,
three-dimensional objects, interior design and organization, and live or recorded
performances.
The term self-initiated has been described and classified in the literature as
authentic art-making; autonomous; child-initiated; everyday creativity; the first
pedagogical site; first site drawing; free drawing; non-directed; nonschool drawings; play
art; self-directed; self-expression; self-generated; self-guided; self-motivated;
spontaneous; student-initiated; unsolicited; untutored; and voluntary (Alter-Muri &
Vazzano, Anning, 2014; Anderson & Milbrandt, 1998; Anning, 2002; Atkinson, 2002;
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Bartel, 2012; Betensky, 1973; Boyatzis, 2000; Cronise, 1910; Crum, 2007; Davis &
Gardner, 1993; Douglas, 2012; Duncum, 1985a; Duncum, 1985b; Duncum, 1989;
Duncum 1993; Duncum, 1997; Efland, 1976; Freedman, 1997; Gardner, 1980; Gaw,
2012; Golomb, 1976; Golomb, 2003; Grube, 2009; Gude, 2013; Haanstra, 2010;
Hamblen, 2002; Hanes & Weisman, 2000; Hathaway, 2012; Hawkins, 2002; Iijima,
Arisaka, Minamoto, & Arai, 2001; Jaquith, 2011; Kaufman & Beghetto, 2009; Kellogg,
1969; Kim, 2004; Kim, 2007; Kindler & Darras, 1995; Kindler & Darras, 1998; Kindler,
1999; Kindler, 2004; Korzenik, 1981; Lark-Horovitz, Lewis, & Luca, 1973; Leeds, 1989;
Longmore, 2012; Lowenfeld, 1956; Lund, 1994; Maitland, 1895; Malvern, 1995;
Matthews, 2003; Matthews, 2004; Mitchell & Reid-Walsh, 2002; Papanicolaou, 2012;
Pearson, 2001; Pinto, Gamannossi, & Cameron, 2011; Richards, 2014; Robertson, 1987;
Rolling 2008; Rolling, 2009; Rolling, 2013a; Rosenblatt & Winner, 1988; Runco, 2010;
Runco, 2013; Ruskin, 1891; Sesto, 2012; Smith, 1983; Stankiewicz, 2007; Sully, 1895;
Tavin, 2010; Thompson, 1987; Thompson, 1995; Thompson, 1999; Thompson, 2002;
Thompson, 2007; Thompson, 2013; Thompson & Bales, 1991; Turgeon, 2008; Ulbricht,
2005; Viola, 1946; Watts, 2010; Willats, 2005; Wilson, 1974; Wilson, 1997; Wilson,
2005; Wilson & Wilson, 1977; Wilson & Wilson, 2009; Zimmerman, 2009).
A majority of the literature focuses on the medium of drawing (Alter-Muri &
Vazzano, Anning, 2002; 2014; Duncum, 1989; Duncum 1993; Freedman, 1997; Golomb,
2003; Hanes & Weisman, 2000; Hawkins, 2002; Iijima et al., 2001; Kim, 2004; Kim,
2007; Kindler & Darras, 1995; Lark-Horovitz, Lewis, & Luca, 1973; Lund, 1994;
Maitland, 1895; Pearson, 2001; Robertson, 1987; Ruskin, 1891; Smith, 1983;
Stankiewicz, 2007; Thompson, 1995; Thompson, 1999; Thompson & Bales, 1991;
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Turgeon, 2008; Ulbricht, 2005; Wilson, 1974; Wilson, 1997; Wilson and Wilson, 2009).
Much of the literature also refers to the artwork of young children between the ages of 2
and 6 (Anning, 2012; Boyatzis, 2000; Craft, 1999; Golomb, 1976; Craft, 1999; Craft,
McConnon, & Matthews, 2012; Golomb, 2003; Richards, 2014; Thompson, 1995;
Thompson, 1999; Thompson, 2003; Thompson & Bales, 1991). Whatever the term,
children produce self-initiated artworks and artifacts for their own personal pleasure and
satisfaction (Anderson & Milbrandt, 1998; Bartel, 2012; Efland, 1976; Kim, 2008;
Kindler & Darras, 1995; Malvern, 1995; Matthews, 2003; Pinto, Gamannossi, &
Cameron, 2011; Richards, 2014; Thompson, 2007).
A review of the literature that touches upon the self-initiated creativity of children
may be categorized according to three main themes: self-initiated creativity from a
classroom perspective, self-initiated creativity from a developmental perspective, and
self-initiated creativity from a sociocultural perspective.
Self-initiated Creativity from a Classroom Perspective
The self-initiated artworks of children are informed by myriad external stimuli
including popular media and visual culture (Duncum, 1997; Haanstra, 2010; Mitchell &
Reid-Walsh, 2002; Thompson, 1999; Wilson, 2005). Children “access multiple pictorial
systems” (Kindler, 1999, p. 331) which they examine, interpret, appropriate and embed
within their worlds of fantasy, imagination, and personal narrative and reveal through
self-initiated artwork (Duncum, 1985b; Duncum, 1989; Duncum, 1993; Kim, 2008;
Thompson, 1999; Thompson, 2003). This results in a variety of visual repertoires from
which children readily draw upon during their creative engagements (Boyatzis, 2000;
Haanstra, 2010; Wolf & Perry, 1988).
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The research suggests that students learn from observing one another’s creative
investigations (Thompson, 1999) and “teachers can learn from the students' artistic
activities” and see “how these activities can inform classroom practice” (Crum, 2007,
p.44). Additionally, self-initiated creative engagement is beneficial to other types
learning such as helping children understand their environments, make sense of the
world, and develop their self-governance competencies (Anning, 2002; Craft, 1999;
Douglas, 2012; Hanes & Weisman, 2000; Richards, 2014; Ulbricht, 2005).
In order for self-initiated creativity to take place within a classroom setting,
students need choice and agency in their learning (Kindler, 1999). “Autonomy empowers
young artists in their creative inquiry” (Jaquith, 2011, p. 17) and studies show that
empowered children become enthusiastic and productive learners (Anning, 2002; Grube,
2009). Creative learning requires curiosity, divergent thinking, and imagination, which
lead to authentic, relevant, and challenging learning experiences (Craft, 1999; Douglas,
2012; Grube, 2009; Hawkins, 2002; Jaquith, 2011). However, Haanstra cautions,
“moving the domain of self-initiated art into schools may jeopardize it” (2010, p. 271).
Teachers have been known to misinterpret, misconstrue and trivialize the type of learning
associated with the self-initiated creativity of children, which can lead to a negative
influence on children’s creative output (Davis & Gardner, 1993; Kindler, 1999; Leeds,
1989; Matthews, 2003; Watts, 2010). Teachers have censored, suppressed, ignored,
misunderstood, altered, and prohibited the self-initiated creative learning of children
(Anning, 2002; Crum, 2007; Davis & Gardner, 1993; Grube, 2009; Gude, 2013;
Haanstra, 2010; Kim, 2008; Matthews, 2003; Wilson, 2005). In many schools the arts
serve in an auxiliary capacity to academic subjects (Efland, 1976; Kim, 2008) where the
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arts become “a vehicle for decorating the walls, or within art ‘lessons’ as a one-off
directed activity to promote specific skills and techniques” (Anning, 2002, p. 208).
Additionally, schools are sites where learning is evidenced through finished products
(Gude, 2013) whereas creative activities such as drawing “provide insights that cannot be
gleaned through scrutiny of the final product alone” (Boyatzis, 2000, p. 7). Katherine
Douglas (2012) insists that educators must look “beyond the finished product to the far
more important processes, decisions, and authentic learning that take place in studentdirected work” (p. 10). In a child-centered approach, the art making process is as
important as the product (Hamblen, 2002; Hanes & Weisman, 2000). According to
Jaquith and Hathaway (2012), “contemporary skill acquisition is process-oriented, not
product-driven” (p. 3). The art experiences of children are complex and sometimes the
creative product is contained within the process (Richards, 2014).
Self-initiated creativity in traditional classrooms. According to the literature,
traditional school sanctioned artwork is different than the artwork children create for
themselves (Efland, 1976; Haanstra, 2010; Hamblen, 2002; Kim, 2008; Kindler, 1999;
Richards, 2014; Thompson, 2003; Wilson, 1974). Children are cognizant of these
differences and aware that schools restrict opportunities for self-initiated creativity.
(Davis & Gardner, 1993; Douglas, 2012; Gude, 2013; Haanstra, 2010; Jaquith, 2011;
Kim, 2008; Kindler, 1999; Leeds, 1989; Matthews, 2003; Thompson, 1987; Thompson,
2003; Wilson, 1974). The creativity found in traditional schooling environments consists
of routine and formulaic production of art products and displays that privilege realistic
renderings (Alter-Muri & Vazzano, 2014; Anderson & Milbrandt,1998; Anning, 2002;
Douglas, 2012; Gardner, 1980; Gehrke, 1979; Hamblen, 2002; Matthews, 2003;
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Thompson, 1987; Wilson, 1974). Conversely, self-initiated creativity has been described
as “spontaneous” (Efland, 1976; Haanstra, 2010; Leeds, 1989; Matthews, 2003; Richards,
2014) and includes expressionistic, design-based, decorative, imaginative, and nonrepresentational works in addition to realistic renderings (Braswell & Callanan, 2003;
Davis, 1997; Golomb, 2003; Haanstra, 2010; Hanes & Weisman, 2000; Iijima, Arisaka,
Minamoto, & Arai, 2001; Winner, 1989).
More recently, researchers have presented ways to include creative integration in
public school classrooms. In Art-Centered Learning Across the Curriculum, Marshall and
Donahue (2014) describe how the processes used by contemporary artists may be applied
to students doing independent research projects in secondary classrooms. In an artcentered integrated learning model, creativity is not used for purely expressive or
aesthetic purposes, but is integral to the learning process (Marshall, 2006). Students adapt
what they know to new contexts where they “apply knowledge in multiple, imaginative,
flexible and often unscripted ways” (Marshall, 2010, p. 364). Art-centered integrated
learning reflects the conceptual working processes of contemporary artists as students
make “connections to the academic disciplines through artistic interpretation” (Marshall,
2010, p. 14). Teachers develop a curriculum with projects that guide students through
individualized, arts-based investigations where students employ multiple modes of
creativity to construct intricate and multifaceted understandings in ways that are
meaningful and relevant to them (Marshall, 2014a). According to Julia Marshall (2014b)
this model goes beyond merely using art to teach academic content, instead it offers a
“transdisciplinarity” (p. 106) that dissolves the boundaries between disciplines. Arts
integration helps students see how “real-world problem solving is done” (Nichols &
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Stephens, 2013, p. 10) and creates deeper understandings through holistic learning. It
must be noted, however, that although proponents of arts-integration encourage learner
autonomy, student agency takes place within curricular and classroom parameters set
forth by the teacher (Marshall and Donahue, 2014).
Self-initiated creativity in progressive classrooms. In progressive or alternative
classroom environments opportunities for self-initiated creativity vary. Reggio Emilia,
Waldorf and Montessori methodologies “view children as active authors of their own
development” (Edwards, 2002, p. 5) and share common principles but differ in how they
put their philosophies into practice.
In Reggio Emilia inspired schools, the arts are viewed as a “hundred languages”
(Saab & Stack, 2013 p. 117) through which children may express their ideas and direct
their own learning (Flevares & Schiff, 2013). The Reggio Emilia approach does not
consider creativity an extraordinary gift possessed by a talented few, but something all
children may develop as a tool for inquiry (Malaguzzi, 1998). In Hundred Languages of
Children: The Reggio Emilia Approach we read, “visual and graphic languages provide
ways of exploring and expressing understanding of the world that are easily available to
most preschoolers” (Edwards, Gandini, & Forman, 1998, p. 56). In the Reggio Emilia
approach, the curriculum is not preplanned but emerges from the interests of a child or
shared interest of a group of children (Griebling, 2011). Classrooms contain a wide array
of materials that young children may explore and use for their creations with the teachers
acting as learning guides and facilitators (Caldwell, 2003; Edwards, Gandini, & Forman,
1998).
In Waldorf Schools, the youngest children have the most opportunity for self-
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initiated explorations through sessions of independent free play. However, this takes
place within a systematic structure where “every day of the week has its associated
special activity” (Astley & Jackson, 2000, p. 23). Waldorf Schools place an emphasis on
imaginary play for children up to age seven. According to the Waldorf system, play
provides a way for young children to explore themselves as learners (Nicol & Taplin,
2012). Around the age of seven the children are presented with a more formalized and
structured curriculum (Edwards, 2002; Rose, Jolley, & Charman, 2012). The integrated
lessons are presented to the students using a variety of teacher selected stories, songs,
recitations, and visual aids (Nicholson, 2000; Nicol & Taplin, 2012). A main theme is
introduced and students are encouraged to engage in “multiple forms of representation”
(Nicholson, 2000, p. 578) as they learn about the theme during daily lessons. The
students chronicle and reflect on their learning by writing and illustrating a personalized
notebook called a Main Lesson Book, which is later used as a portfolio for assessment
(Nordlund, 2013). Waldorf educators value a child-centered approach, but the learning is
teacher directed and “characterized by guidance and rules” (Nicholson, 2000, p. 579).
Montessori schools follow specific procedures and practices (Cossentino, 2005).
In Montessori classrooms students direct their own learning in controlled environments
where teachers act as guides and facilitators (Hanes & Weisman, 2000; Schenck &
Stoytchev, 2012; Schwarzmueller & Rinaldo, 2013). The students may work at their own
pace choosing from a variety of projects, materials, and activities prepared and presented
by the teachers. (Edwards, 2002; Rose, Jolley, & Charman, 2012).
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Self-Initiated Creativity from a Developmental Perspective
Interest in the self-initiated creativity of children began in the late nineteenth
century at a time when students were expected to acquire artistic skills by copying the
work of old masters and making sketches from the plaster casts of ancient Greek and
Roman sculptures (Leeds, 1989; Pearson, 2001; Rosenblatt & Winner, 1988; Wilson,
2004). The advent of modernism at the turn of the century brought with it an interest in
the self-initiated art of children (Leeds, 1989; Stankiewicz, 2007; Wilson, 2004). In the
late nineteenth century, psychologists Bernard Perez and James Sully described the
drawing development of children as an automatic and spontaneous evolution (Leeds,
1989; Sully, 1895; Wilson & Wilson, 1977). In The Elements of Drawing (1891), John
Ruskin believed it was more beneficial for children to create freely without adult
interference than to be taught “advanced artistic concepts at too early an age” (Leeds,
1989, p. 97).
In the beginning of the twentieth century, educators Franz Cizek and Marion
Richardson encouraged free expression allowing children to explore a variety of
materials and self-discover their creative capabilities (Malvern, 1995; Willats, 2005).
Later researchers such as Lowenfeld and Kellog proposed various “developmental
typologies” (Leeds, 1989, p. 101) based on Lucquet’s 1913 concept of stage theory to
delineate common phases of graphic representation through which children progress
(Robertson, 1987; Thompson, 2003; Watts, 2010). Researchers used these classifications
to assess the cognitive and emotional growth of children (Pinto, Gamannossi, &
Cameron, 2011; Rosenblatt & Winner, 1988). Others maintained that artistic growth in
children unfolds naturally (Anning, 2008; Boyatzis, 2000; Jaquith, 2011; Kindler, 1999).
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They argued that the self-initiated creativity of children does not always coincide with the
benchmarks and sequential progressions found in stage theories such as Lowenfeld’s
stages of artistic development, Piaget's theory of cognitive development, or Goodman’s
symbol theory (Alter-Muri & Vazzano, 2014, Atkinson, 2002; Kim, 2004; Matthews,
2004).
Most researchers agree that children become preoccupied with drawing in a
realistic manner with the onset of adolescence. Some attribute this fixation to social
influences found in schools where teachers and peers privilege representational
depictions and graphic conventions over spontaneous symbolic expressions (Gardner,
1980; Matthews, 2004). They believe an “acquisition of school knowledge” (Davis &
Gardner, 1993, p. 193) is the reason why many children discontinue their art making
practices once they finish elementary school (Robertson, 1987; Rosenblatt & Winner,
1988). Gardner added that “children are socialized into perceiving the written word as the
dominant mode of communication and since drawing is not important, they cease to
engage with it” (Anning, 2008, p. 96). Others postulate that most children eventually stop
drawing because they no longer have a developmental need to engage in make-believe or
fantasy through graphic representation (Kim, 2004).
Recent literature suggests that neither stage development theories nor the free
expression model can accurately and fully describe the ways in which children go about
their creative endeavors (Thompson, 2003; Watts, 2010). Kindler (1999) regarded the
classical stage theories of artistic development as too narrowly focused and argued that,
in reality, children choose from a variety of pictorial repertoires depending on their need
to make meaning at any given time. She suggested a broader definition of artistic
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development that takes into consideration a wider range of visual imagery such as
unintentional markings, unfinished works, tracings or artworks that are copied and
replicated from preexisting pieces (Kindler, 1999).
Brent and Marjorie Wilson advocated that, “themes are more useful than stage
theory for understanding children's art” (Robertson, 1987, p. 38) and these themes
provide a rich source of ideas for the self-initiated creativity of children (Thompson,
1999). Wilson (2004) suggested that the spontaneous and expressive child art
championed by educators is a mere construct created by art teachers such as Cizek and
Lowenfeld. Cizek’s desire to promote creative self-expression and autonomous art
(Malvern, 2005) greatly influenced the ways children created and, according to Willats
(2005), actually interfered with their drawing development. Willats felt that schools need
to teach the “technical aspects of accurate representation” (Anning, 2008, p. 96) and
Efland (1976) suggested that while teachers like Cizek thought they were unleashing the
child’s natural creative tendencies, they were in reality creating the school art style.
According to Anning (2008), the legacy of free expression continues in early childhood
education where children are given thick brushes and pots of primary colors creating
“conditions whereby young children are bound to conform to their teachers’ constructs of
art” (p. 98).
Matthews (2004) maintains that there is a dearth of recent studies on the selfinitiated creativity of children because this type of art making is not valued in
contemporary school environments.
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Self-initiated Creativity from a Sociocultural Perspective
According to Alter-Muri and Vazzano (2014) theories of developmental stages in
creativity do not take into consideration the social and cultural influences on children’s
drawings. Stage theories map out linearly ordered developmental benchmarks that
culminate with realistic renderings (Kim, 2004; Matthews, 2004; Pearson, 2001; Wilson,
1977). However, research has shown that children may exhibit a number of different
developmental stages within a single drawing depending on context and purpose (AlterMuri & Vazzano, 2014). Sociocultural theories of creative development posit that
learning is “socially situated” (Hamblen, 2002, p. 19) and a “product of culturally and
socially transmitted conventions” (Pinto, Gamannossi, & Cameron, 2011, p. 425).
Children encounter graphic imagery from a variety of sources at home and at school
(Haanstra, 2010) including adults, peers and siblings (Anning, 2000). Children decipher,
interpret, synthesize, select, reject (Grube, 2009; Pinto, Gamannossi, & Cameron, 2011),
ultimately reprocessing these images “for their own purposes” (Duncum, 1989, p. 253) in
ways that are relevant and meaningful to them (Duncum, 1997; Robertson, 1987;
Thompson, 1995).
Creating artwork is contextually based (Hawkins, 2002) and many children use
drawing as a social event (Grube, 2009; Jaquith, 2011; Lund). From a sociocultural
perspective, creative development happens through conversations (Lund, 1994) and other
types of “interactions with people and objects” (Richards, 2014, p. 145). Children talk
with each other and to themselves as they engage in self-initiated creativity (Thompson &
Bales, 1991). Through these public conversations and personal dialogues children make
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connections, address aesthetic concerns, and develop new understandings which
“contribute significantly” (Thompson, 1995, p. 9) to their artistic learning.
Children understand the disparities between learning at home and learning at
school and they find ways to navigate each environment (Anning, 2000). School learning
is formalized requiring students to follow directions and produce standardized projects
(Grube, 2009; Hamblen, 2002). Learning derived from social and cultural influences are
often manifested through materials, techniques, and approaches such as tracing, copying,
performing or marking on walls that are considered inappropriate and discouraged in
classrooms (Hamblen, 2002; Richards, 2014). Teachers usually do not appreciate nor
value crudely made drawings on scrap paper, simplistically rendered images or
unfinished pictures commonly made by children (Kindler, 1999).
The Relationship Between Agency and Self-initiated Creativity in the Elementary
Classroom
A view of the relationship between agency and self-initiated creativity provides
further context for this examination of students in an elementary classroom setting.
Student agency empowers students while disrupting traditional barriers that require
adherence to teacher-centered approaches and ritualized schooling behaviors (de Souza
Fleith, 2000; Pennisi, 2006; Wagner-Ott, 2002). The literature shows that the selfinitiated art of students often transgresses the visual codes and conventions found in
classrooms. The self-initiated creative processes and projects of children can appear
messy and unfinished especially in classroom environments where student artwork is
expected to be socially acceptable finished products that are realistically rendered and
neatly presented (Anning, 1997; Bresler, 1999; Clandinin & Connelly, 1996; Glenn,
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Knight, Holt, & Spence 2012; Haanstra, 2010; Hamblen, 2002; LaJevic, 2013; Matthews,
2003; Thompson, 1999).
According to LaJevic (2013), when art is part of the general elementary classroom
experience it is mainly used for decorative purposes, contributing to a “devaluation of the
arts” (p. 6). Art as classroom decoration in American schools is well documented
(Stankiewicz, Amburgy, & Bolin, 2004; Thompson, 2014). More recently, creative
engagement in general classroom settings has been further cast in the “role of
handmaiden to other subjects” (Thompson, 2014, p. 386) rather than being generally
perceived as containing intrinsic educative value.
Conversely, in order to be meaningful to children, artistic expression must be
initiated out of internal relevance rather than as a response to external directives.
Teacher-directed art instruction often incorporates aesthetic practices that have little or no
relevance to the pictorial repertoires or cultural contexts of children (Bullock &
Galbraith, 1992; Hamblen, 1987; Haanstra, 2010; Wikstrom, 2005). Choice is an
essential component in the creative act. Student agency leads to a diversity of new ideas
and fresh approaches beyond the ability of a teacher to conceive on his or her own,
ultimately enriching the artistic growth of the entire learning community. There is a
marked increase in creative ingenuity and productivity when students have a voice in
their learning. This not only affects the personal aesthetic repertoires of the students, but
also recasts classrooms as significant and germane learning environments.
The idea that intrinsic motivation enhanced by student agency is conducive to
creativity in the classroom is well documented (Amabile, 1982; Deci & Ryan, 1985;
Greene & Lepper, 1974; Ross, Karniol, & Rothstein, 1975). Daniel Pink (2013) adds that
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intrinsic motivation is “essential for high levels of creativity” (p. 45). Many researchers,
educators and theorists cite the importance of creativity in education (Andrews, 2005;
Brooks, 2005; De Petrillo & Winner, 2005; Edens & Potter, 2001; Glasser, 1969; James,
1997; Lodge, 2007). Ken Robinson (2013) emphasizes that schools should be “creating a
climate of possibility” instead of promoting standardization. He goes on to say that a
main function of education should be to “awaken and develop these powers of creativity”
(n.p.). Yet children are seldom allowed to freely create in elementary school. General
classroom teachers assign prescriptive projects narrowly restricting young students’
creativity.
Since the mid-19th century, the art created in response to external directives in
classrooms has become a genre of its own: “school art” (Bresler, 1999). This genre does
not take into consideration self-initiated art by children and the unique processes they use
to create it (Efland, 1976; Hamblen, 1999; Wilson, 1974). School-sanctioned art
privileges product-based and teacher directed creativity, while self-initiated art practices
empower children by allowing them to direct their own discovery-based artistic inquiries,
which they find relevant, meaningful, and engaging (Bresler, 1999; Broome & Broome,
2010; Danko-McGhee & Slutsky, 2007; Efland, 1976; Eger, 2008, Fiske, 1999; Grube,
2009; Gude 2007; Rosenblatt & Winner, 1988). While art educators like Graeme Sullivan
advocated for art education in schools to be rendered more meaningful to the student
(1993), the artwork children create outside of school was determined to often be much
more relevant to youngsters than the work they were required to create as delimited by
the institutionalized methods of contemporary elementary level art instructors and general
classroom teachers (Crum, 2007; Szekely, 2006).
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Nathalie Gehrke’s Children in Time and Space (1979) describes schooling as a
process of traditional practices “imbued with a certain sacred air” (p. 111) that also
discourage “spontaneity and creativity” (p. 119). These practices resist spontaneous
expression while promoting a traditional school culture (Bresler, 1998; Anderson &
Milbrandt, 1998). Paulo Friere (2005) expands on this idea with his “banking” concept of
education, which features “knowledge [as] a gift bestowed by those who consider
themselves knowledgeable upon those whom they consider to know nothing” (p. 72).
Friere defines traditional schooling practices as a process “negat[ing] education and
knowledge as processes of inquiry” (p. 72) which tends to “minimize or annul the
students creative power” (p. 73). Teresa Amabile and Judith Gitomer write: “From the
time they enter school, children are placed under behavioral restrictions. They are often
told what to do, when to do it, and how it must be done” (1984, p. 209). Yet anecdotal
evidence has shown that “the arts are associated with enhanced student motivation and
achievement in non-art domains” (Edens & Potter, 2001, p. 214). Research studies have
also shown that student engagement with the arts correlated with an increase in academic
achievement and student motivation (Boyes & Reid, 2005; Burger, & Winner, 2000;
Catterall, 1998; Cornett, 2007; Deasy, 2003; Eger, 2008; Gibson & Anderson, 2008;
Gullatt, 2008; Hetland, 2008; Hetland & Winner, 2001; Rabkin & Redmond, 2006;
Rome, 2008).
The literature argues that the arts have a role in the “construction and
development of knowledge” and may be used by children to “represent increasingly
complex ideas” (Brooks, 2005, p. 80). The arts provide “knowledge of the world”
(Siegesmund, 1998, p. 212), and “creat(e) visual imagery of different kinds (that) can
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have significant cognitive benefit” (Kindler, 2003, p. 294). Choice and ownership must
be part of the creative process for artistic experiences to become meaningful and relevant
to children (Gnezda, 2009; Jaquith, 2011; Thomson, 1999). One way in which choice and
ownership can become part of the creative process is for teachers to better understand the
self-initiated creativity of their students.
Given that the self-initiated processes of young learners are seldom acknowledged
in elementary school classrooms, there is a need for research about students’ self-initiated
creativity to aid in determining the pedagogical significance of greater artistic agency in
the elementary classroom. Some educational researchers consider it advantageous to
allow children to bring their off-site self-directed creative activities into school (Jaquith,
2011; Matthews, 2003; Richards, 2014; Ulbricht, 2005; Wilson, 2005). However, in the
case of this particular dissertation research on the self-initiated creativity of children, only
creative artifacts produced at the school were used. Out of 253 artifacts documented for
this study, 173 were created inside our classroom, 66 were made outside during a snack
break or recess, 9 were made in the dining hall, and 4 while attending the after-school
program.
Summary
Children are drawn to creative activities and engage in them of their own volition
(Anning, 2002; Kim, 2008; Wilson, 1974). This deliberate, self-initiated art making helps
them interpret the world, deepen their understandings (Grube, 2009; Haanstra, 2010;
Kim, 2008; Matthews, 2003; Matthews, 2004; Thompson, 1995) and “process their lived
experiences” (Hanes & Weisman, 2000, p. 11).
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Children are intrinsically motivated by their self-initiated creations and have a
desire to work on them in school but instead are required to work on teacher-directed art
projects (Anning, 2002; Haanstra, 2010; Jaquith, 2011; Matthews, 2003; Robertson,
1987; Thompson, 1995; Ulbricht, 2005). In general classroom settings drawing is often
used as “busy work” (Anning, 2002, p. 206) and in art rooms teachers endeavor to
develop their own approach to fostering artistic development rather than encourage the
self-initiated creativity of their students (Haanstra, 2010). In response, children alter their
drawings and adjust their pictorial repertoires to align with the expectations of their
teachers (Kindler, 1999; Robertson, 1987). But children enjoy creating for their friends
and for themselves more than creating school-sanctioned art (Kim, 2008; Thompson,
1987; Ulbricht, 2005; Wilson, 1974).
The research literature recommends that educators take the self-initiated creativity
of their students seriously (Lund, 1994). If not, children may acquire school art
conventions at the cost of losing the innate creative capacity that they had previously
attained (Davis & Gardner, 1993). Duncum (1985b) warns educators against becoming
too preoccupied with the developmental aspects of children’s art making and encourages
the examination of their work in the “context of the children's lives” (p. 45). He invites us
to listen to the ways children talk about their creativity and acknowledge both the
pedagogical possibilities and challenges offered by the self-initiated creativity of children
(Duncum, 1989; Duncum, 1993). Grube (2009) cautions that imposing “obedience to an
adult-tested aesthetic” (p. 12) can lead to missed opportunities for rich conversations and
relevant learning.
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Observing the artistic processes of children provides insights into their learning
(Hanes & Weisman, 2000). According to Matthews (2004) “children's spontaneous use
and organization of visual and other media plays a central role in the development of
intelligence” (p. 267). The voluntary drawings of children provide a way for teachers to
know their students as individuals and appreciate their distinctive talents, interests,
experiences viewpoints and ideas (Richards, 2014; Thompson, 1999).
Teachers may nurture the creativity of children by engaging in conversations with
students about their artwork (Boyatzis, 2000; Davis & Gardner, 1993; Duncum, 1985b;
Grube, 2009; Kindler, 1999; Lund, 1994; Matthews, 2003; Watts, 2010). Children seek
adult recognition of their work (Kindler, 1999; Thompson, 1987; Thompson, 1995) and
these conversations help teachers understand the perspectives of their students (Richards,
2014; Thompson, 1995; Thompson, 1999; Watts, 2010). Children’s uses for creativity
include, but also go beyond, artistic concerns or visual representations (Pearson, 2001;
Richards, 2014). Children use creativity to develop their personal identities (Duncum,
1985; Grube, 2009; Hawkins, 2002) and as a way to externalize internal fears and
anxieties, desires and wishes, dreams and fantasies (Duncum, 1985b; Kim, 2004). Often
the self-initiated creativity of children incorporates a host of contemporaneous motivating
factors. According to Pearson,
drawing can be play activity, narrative activity, a measured strategy for social
approval, or the equally measured pursuit of the inductively grasped competence
appropriate to given representation systems. Drawing is also a strategy for coping
with boredom, with isolation. It can be a retreat from violent social relations. It
can be the means for pursuing a passionate interest in horses or trains which at the
same time achieves some or all of the above ends (2001, p. 358).
Children experience pleasurable interactions, visual complexities and playful
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spontaneity through the self-initiated creative tasks they set for themselves rather than the
superfluity of the projects assigned in the classroom (Wilson, 1974). Of the various
educational approaches examined in this literature review, the Reggio Emilia inspired
schools offered the greatest opportunities for children to engage in self-initiated creative
activity as defined in this study. However, even in Reggio Emilia inspired schools the
creativity was orchestrated and influenced by the teachers. The children created art to
communicate their ideas and express their thinking but teachers carefully prepared what
they felt were “aesthetically pleasing environments” (Edwards, 2002, p. 7) by setting up
the spaces, decorating the walls, and choosing the art materials (Hertzog, 2001).
A guiding principle of Waldorf education is teaching to the whole child by
“balancing academics, art, movement, and spirituality (Christensen, 2007, p. 320).
Waldorf schools offered their youngest students opportunities for self-initiated creativity
as they were allowed to “dreamily drift” (Nicol & Taplin, 2012, p. 105) from one activity
to another, but within a structure of predictability, recitations, and routines (Friedlaender,
Beckham, Zheng, & Darling-Hammond, 2015). In the Waldorf schools, the teachers led
the classes by reading stories, directing plays, and setting up art studios to create a
curriculum that integrated academics with the arts. (Christensen, 2007; Edwards, 2002).
In the older grades, the arts were primarily used as a way to illustrate and show student
learning within the confines of their lesson books (Nicholson, 2000).
As with the Waldorf schools, Montessori schools integrated arts into their
curricula but according to teacher directives (Oreck, 2006). And as with the Reggio
Emilia approach, the Montessori method was primarily designed for early childhood
education consisting children 2 to 6 years of age (Hewett, 2001; Wentworth, 1999).
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Additional data needs to be gathered and analyzed on the self-initiated,
autonomous, and spontaneous creativity of children in the upper elementary grades
(Golomb, 2003; Matthews, 2003). According to the definition set forth in this study, selfinitiated creativity occurred when a student or a group of students decided to produce an
artifact or action they found gratifying and fulfilling. In my classroom the students were
allowed to engage in self-initiated creative endeavors when they wanted, where they
wanted, and using materials of their own choosing. Conversely, the pedagogical
methodologies of Reggio Emilia, Waldorf, and Montessori included ritualized practices,
carefully chosen materials, and meticulously prepared environments that influenced the
way their students engaged in creative actions (Edwards, 2002; Nicholson, 2000).
The arts-integration practices suggested by Marshall and Donahue (2014)
involved the combination of “structure with open-endedness and teacher-identified goals
with learner interest” (p. 162). In this model, the teachers established curricular
organizations, frameworks, and guidelines and then the students were invited to bring
their interests to the learning. On the other hand, self-initiated creativity is not assigned
by teachers but is initiated by the students (Kim, 2008). Self-initiated creativity is
something “children do by themselves and for themselves” (Matthews, 2003, p. 5). In this
study I sought to observe and examine a form of self-initiated creativity that came from
my students with a minimal amount of teacher influence.
The literature in this review that directly referenced the self-initiated creativity of
children touched upon the artistic expression of children in socio-cultural contexts, the
development of subject matter and pictorial repertoires contained within children’s
drawings, the art children make in school compared to the art they make outside of
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school, teacher reactions to the self-initiated art of their students, the role of agency and
intrinsic motivation in creativity, the developmental characteristics found in the artwork
of children, the impact of schooling rituals on student creativity, the effects of student
autonomy and agency in their art making, the self-initiated art making processes of
children compared to the art making processes of contemporary artists, and self-initiated
art as a valid form of learning (Alter-Muri & Vazzano, 2014; Anderson & Milbrandt,
1998; Anning, 2002; Craft, McConnon, & Matthews, 2012; Crum, 2007; Davis & Efland,
1976; Davis & Gardner, 1993; Douglas, 2012; Duncum, 1985b; Duncum, 1989; Duncum,
1997; Gardner, 1980; Gardner, 1993; Gaw, 2012; Gehrke, 1979; Golomb, 1976; Golomb,
2003; Grube, 2009; Haanstra, 2010; Hamblen, 2002; Hanes & Weisman, 2000;
Hawkins, 2002; Iijima, Arisaka, & Minamoto, 2001; Jaquith, 2011; Jaquith & Hathaway,
2012; Kim, 2008; Kindler, 1999; Kindler & Darras, 1995; Longmore, 2012; Lund, 1994;
Malvern, 1995; Matthews, 2003; Matthews, 2004; Papanicolaou, 2012; Pearson, 2001;
Pinto, Gamannossi, & Cameron, 2011; Richards, 2014; Rosenblatt & Winner, 1988;
Thompson, 1987; Thompson, 1995; Thompson, 1999; Thompson, 2003; Thompson,
2007; Thompson & Bales, 1991; Turgeon, 2008; Ulbricht, 2005; Wilson, 1974; Wilson,
2005; Wilson, 2008; Zimmerman, 2009).
Thompson (2003) suggests that educators provide “spaces in the curriculum
where children are free to define and pursue personal projects that reflect their attempts to
make sense of the world they inhabit” and believes children should be “encouraged to
explore their unofficial interests” (p. 145). Students need to make choices in the
classroom regarding their creative activities (Haanstra, 2010; Hamblen, 2002; Hanes &
Weisman 2000). They must be able to interact with one another (Thompson & Bales,
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1991), draw on their experiences (Kim, 2004), explore their interests (Richards, 2014)
and develop projects that are meaningful to them (Thompson, 1995). Allowing this type
of agency gives teachers opportunities to understand their students’ visual expressions
and “realize the value of children's self-initiated work” (Kim, 2004, p. 31).
Educators must first take seriously the self-initiated art making of children before
they can fully appreciate and understand its pedagogical value (Anning, 2004). To do this
they must first set aside their “personal preferences, judgments, and preconceptions”
(Kindler, 1999, p. 345) about creativity.
The majority of the studies in this literature review examined the self-initiated
creativity of young children in the primary and early years of education in an art room
setting. Only a handful explored the self-initiated creativity of children in a general
elementary classroom setting or in the intermediate elementary grades. A review of the
literature reveals a gap in the literature regarding a longitudinal examination of the selfinitiated creative processes and products made by a group of students in an intermediate
general classroom environment over the course of one school year. In the next chapter I
describe how I used action research to study the self-initiated creative actions of my
fourth and fifth grade students during the 2012-2013 school year.
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CHAPTER 3 – Methodology and Procedures
An Examination of Action Research Studies in the Elementary Classroom
Before conducting this action research study on the self-initiated creativity of
students afforded agency in an elementary classroom, a selection of five action research
studies were reviewed to examine the efficaciousness of action research for gathering
data in the elementary classroom. Each of the studies contained elements of student
agency or creativity. The topics of the studies included third grade students using selfassessment to assist in the memorization of multiplication math fact tables (Brookhart,
Andolina, Zuza, & Furman, 2004), third grade students practicing self-monitoring
techniques during silent reading times (Kelley & Clausen-Grace, 2006), teachers using
Readers’ Theater to promote reading fluency with second-graders (Young & Rasinski,
2009), researchers examining student initiative in a fourth-grade classroom (Wade,
1995), and the facilitation of musical learning through compositional strategies with
elementary school students (Miller, 2004).
Action research in elementary classroom contexts requires participants to conduct
research, take action, and reflect on outcomes to examine their own classroom and
improve their pedagogical practice. According to Ferrance (2000), action research is
“characterized by spiraling cycles of problem identification, systematic data collection,
reflection, analysis, data-driven action taken, and, finally, problem redefinition” (p. 26).
This examination of the studies will determine how successfully, and to what degree, the
key features of action research were integrated and how the inherent strengths of action
research can inform the research design for this dissertation.
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Study #1: Minute math: An action research study of student self-assessment.
In this action research study university researchers and elementary classroom teachers
collaborated to examine the effect of student self-assessment on weekly timed
multiplication fact tests. The authors wanted to see if self-assessment would benefit
students beyond simple memorization of basic math facts such as increased student
motivation, engagement, confidence and independence. They designed a study where
forty-one third graders predicted and graphed their test scores on weekly conventional
timed test of the 0–9 multiplication facts. They chose action research as their method of
study because they believed that action research was well suited for studying student selfassessment in a classroom context. The study was titled “The Minute Math Action
Research Project” and involved two third grade classes at a suburban elementary school.
Before each of the weekly timed multiplication fact tests, the students were
required to predict their success by filling out a GPAR (Goals, Plan, Action, Reflection)
sheet. The GPAR sheet consisted of questions pertaining to students’ study strategies,
their personal goals, and reflections on anticipated results. Before each test, students
graphed their predictions on a bar graph and then graphed their actual score following
each test. By the end of a ten-week period, the researchers collected data in the form of
the students’ bar graphs (graphing 10 predictions and 10 actual scores) and weekly
reflection sheets.
At the conclusion of the study, the researchers performed exit interviews with the
teachers. During the exit interviews they asked questions to determine what the students
learned from the Minute Math project and what the teachers might do differently if they
had an opportunity to do the project again. While examining the data, the researchers
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used descriptive statistics to analyze the data from students’ bar graphs and reflection
sheets, and used a qualitative analysis to look for emergent themes and patterns in the
student reflection sheets and teacher interviews.
It was concluded that on average, “students in both classes predicted their
achievement very well” (p. 218). The researchers found that the children mostly used
flash cards and timed tests for practicing their math facts before each test. From the
student reflections the researchers could see that most of the students remained with a
preferred study strategy throughout the project or gave a clear rationale if they decided to
switch to a different strategy.
Although the authors of the study comprehensively described the procedures of
the study, they left out important elements of action research, as there was no feedback
from the participants that provided insight into their attitudes and feelings about the
project. For example, the authors did not provide a “vicarious experience” (Herr &
Anderson, 2005, p. 62) by describing the classroom culture or using their perspectives as
insiders to contextualize the study (Sullivan, 1996). The authors shared their interest in
finding out how student self-assessment might inform how well students performed on
timed math fact tests, but they did not communicate how they arrived at this question or
why it was important. Nothing is mentioned about the history of the classrooms or why
these particular classrooms were chosen for the study. Instead, the study relied heavily on
statistical data taken from the student predictions, scores, and reflection sheets. The
authors recognized that “student involvement in their own assessment was contextdependent” (p. 225), but they did not provide any further insight on this notion.
The researchers could have conducted student interviews more effectively to
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understand the rationale behind the student responses. The authors mentioned that some
of the students reported not doing anything to prepare for the weekly timed tests, which
led them to speculate, “perhaps they did not feel a need to practice because they were
already achieving at a comfortable level. In some cases, perhaps they were not motivated
to put forth the effort” (p. 220). Speaking directly to the students or asking follow-up
questions on subsequent reflection sheets might have added clarity to these responses.
The data from the teacher interviews was more informative. The teacher
interviews described how the teachers felt the students were responding to the process
and gave teachers the opportunity to critically analyze the data and the validity of the
research process. Concerning the student reflections, one teacher observed:
I don’t think they value writing down their thought processes as much as they
value writing the right answer. So if they write ‘using flash cards,’ it might not be
that they thought flash cards were good as much as that they thought it would be
the right thing to say (p. 222-223).
The interviews provided a way for the researchers to examine the trustworthiness of their
research methodology and techniques. The interviews also provided a catalyst for the
researchers to reflect on their own teaching: “We need to teach them to be confident in
their own thought processes” (p. 223).
The authors concluded that most of the students enjoyed taking part in selfassessment, but the data offered to support this statement was inadequate. The authors
could have elicited responses from the students by conducting follow-up interviews or
questions. Granted, they recognized that some students were simply filling in blanks
rather than offering authentic reflections, and so they determined that students need
guidance and practice when engaging with self-assessment techniques. But they failed to
continue the action research cycle of reflection by offering suggestions for the next steps
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to be taken (Ferrance, 2000) such as identifying additional questions and offering ways
the students might be taught to self-assess based on their experience with this study.
Study #2: R5: The sustained silent reading makeover that transformed
readers. University instructor Michelle Kelley and third grade teacher Nicki ClausenGrace teamed up in 2006 to “examine the metacognitive awareness or ability of third
graders to monitor and guide their thinking during the reading process and to determine
whether direct instruction in metacognitive strategies would benefit all learners” (p. 148).
Their article titled “R5: The Sustained Silent Reading Makeover that Transformed
Readers” described how they used the Developmental Reading Assessment to aid in the
investigation of their action research questions.
The authors were concerned with the students’ lack of engagement during their
in-class Silent Sustained Reading (SSR) times. Their purpose for incorporating SSR into
their curriculum was to help their students develop reading fluency, word recognition,
and comprehension as they read at their independent reading levels. The authors
described their students as being unmotivated during SSR times and mentioned that a few
would do anything to get out of reading. Kelley and Clausen-Grace made this claim after
observing some of the students moving about the classroom or simply flipping through
pages of their books during SSR times. The authors, however, failed to provide a
thorough and vivid description of what transpired during SSR times in the classroom.
Instead, they made assumptions based on cursory observations rather than taking
advantage of the intimate relationship in the research setting (Anderson & Heer, 1999).
Additionally, the authors did not locate themselves within this portion of the research and
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therefore it was difficult to ascertain what effect the adults might have had on the
students’ actions.
To address their primary concerns of engaging disengaged readers and gaining
insight into their students’ metacognitive awareness, the authors had their students fill out
Developmental Reading Assessment (DRA) student reading surveys. However, the use
of DRA’s alone did not offer a robust way to gather data. The researchers could have
garnered additional data by taking notes during class meetings or conducting informal
interviews with individual students.
According to Kelley and Clausen-Grace, the baseline data from the DRA’s
provided them “with a comprehensive view of each students’ needs as well as a measure
of class trends and concerns” (p.149) and confirmed their suspicions that the students
were not reading a wide range of genres, many lacked comprehension strategies, and
most did not engage in reading for pleasure. However, the study failed to mention any
attempt to engage with the students’ perspectives to discover how they perceived the
reading experience. The DRA survey simply required the students to list authors or
genres they enjoy reading, and describe why, after which responses were scored using a
rubric that was designed for the program. But the survey alone did not offer opportunities
for discussions relevant to the interests of the students so it is not surprising to read that
the authors found the perfunctory nature of the student responses disappointing.
After reviewing the data from the Developmental Reading Assessment, Kelley
and Clausen-Grace determined that direct instruction in self-monitoring strategies would
benefit all the students by enhancing the achievement of their strong readers and creating
a foundation for their struggling readers. This approach reflected the action research
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spiral technique of fact-finding, planning, and action (Kitchen & Stevens, 2003). They
also restructured the SSR block so that their students had a structured time to practice
independent reading and become engaged readers. To help them redesign their SSR time,
the authors looked at research on successful SSR programs, and found eight factors
common to successful SSR programs, then determined which of these factors were
already in place in their classroom and which needed to be added. Next, they generated a
list of the obstacles commonly found in SSR practices and then designed frameworks and
practices to help overcome those obstacles. The result was a program called R5 where
students would explicitly practice metacognitive reading strategies during their SSR time.
The authors supplied a detailed description of what the revamped SSR program
looked like in their classroom setting, which is a crucial component of any action
research study. Throughout the process, Kelley and Clausen-Grace communicated how
they wanted their students to feel a sense of ownership during the SSR process. However,
they also mentioned practices, in the form of “several hard and fast rules” that they “put
in place to set the tone for the R5 block” (p. 152). These rules impinged on student
agency and seemed to run counter to their desire for the students to have ownership of
their reading practices. For example, the students were required to keep a log of what
they read each day so that the teachers could determine whether their students were
making good reading selections. This technique reinforced a classroom hierarchy, which
in turn served to weaken the data as it did not focus on students reading for pleasure but
was a tool of oversight and supervision.
Seven months after the start of the study the students were retested using the
Developmental Reading Assessment. The Developmental Reading Assessment data
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showed a significant growth in comprehension. But this conclusion came from a single
data source whereas action research studies require a level of trustworthiness, which is
accomplished by collecting multiple data sources.
By the end of the study, Kelly and Clausen-Grace gave too brief a glimpse of their
classroom observations and the ways in which their students evolved into a group of
enthusiastic readers over the course of their investigation.
Study #3: Implementing readers theatre as an approach to classroom fluency
instruction. In their article “Implementing Readers Theatre as an Approach to Classroom
Fluency,” Young and Rasinski point to research that shows a correlation between oral
reading fluency and silent reading comprehension in elementary age students stating that
“students who read with little or inappropriate expression during oral reading are more
likely to have poor comprehension when reading silently.” (p. 4). Young and Rasinski
believed having students practice and perform reading through Readers Theater would
provide an authentic approach to fluency instruction. They used action research to study
the effects of Readers Theatre on fluency and overall reading achievement among the 29
students in Young’s second grade classroom.
Young and Rasinski selected Readers Theater as a way to bring authenticity to
their reading instruction. Each Monday the Readers Theater scripts were introduced as
part of a language arts mini-lesson, and on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays the
students rehearsed the scripts. Friday was given over to Readers Theatre performances
after which the students were allowed to partake in a reading activity of their choice.
Results of the study were measured both quantitatively and qualitatively. For the
quantitative measurements, the authors used results from the Direct Reading Assessment
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(DRA) and the Texas Primary Reading Inventory (TPRI). After comparing the fall and
spring test results, it was concluded that consistent experience with Readers Theatre had a
positive effect on the students’ reading achievement.
Reporting on the qualitative measures, the authors wrote that Readers Theatre
offered a method for students to grow as readers in a way that was enjoyable and
engaging. They backed up their claims by quoting positive feedback from three students
and a parent and even mentioned positive feedback from the school nurse, guidance
counselor, and secretary. The authors concluded:
The quantitative data was impressive, yet from a classroom teacher’s perspective
the qualitative data presented the most convincing argument for implementing
Readers Theatre. Being able to witness the unmotivated become motivated and
the strugglers was incredible. The flagrant enthusiasm shared by the community
of readers was truly a reading teacher's dream come true (p. 12).
It would have been interesting to learn how exactly the unmotivated students
became motivated. These detailed accounts are not provided. The authors presented their
findings without giving readers an in-depth and varied accounting of this year-long study.
Besides offering scheduling and logistical information, it would have been beneficial if
Young and Rasinski provided information on how the process unfolded with descriptions
of the ways the students engaged with the Readers theatre process.
Study #4: Encouraging student initiative in a fourth-grade classroom. In 1995
Rahima Wade, an educational researcher from the University of Iowa, partnered with an
elementary school classroom teacher in a suburban setting to conduct an action research
project that examined student empowerment. The main purpose of this study sought to
document the curricular events that promoted or prevented student empowerment. Wade
was interested in seeing if she and her host teacher could establish a classroom
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environment in which students felt empowered and would present issues associated with
social justice and then design accompanying service projects.
In her review of the literature, Wade found that in general, schools are resistant to
change, student empowerment, and democratic educational approaches. Wade felt her
own investigation would fill the gap for studies that examined student empowerment
within public school classrooms.
Wade’s data collection consisted of written and audio-taped notes of classroom
observations, teacher and student interviews, and meetings, among other classroom
events. During the analysis phase, Wade began to identify emergent themes. From her
observations and interviews, Wade found that her host teacher valued individual student
agency as well as positive social interactions between students. Wade’s data supported
this claim by pointing out how students were allowed choice in their learning. She also
discussed her findings with the host teacher to provide an insider perspective.
Wade began the discussion of her research results by giving a detailed description
of the culture of her research site to contextualize her findings. Her account helped
establish a baseline and set the stage for her observations that followed. For instance, she
learned that the school’s faculty maintained discipline and order through a system of
authoritative discipline procedures, which offered insight into what Wade and her host
teacher were confronted with as they embarked on their study. Wade portrayed the school
as a conventional educational environment where the principal made decisions for the
teachers and the teachers made decisions for the students.
Although both the teacher and researcher tried to establish a democratic
classroom environment by encouraging student empowerment, adult control still held
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sway. After the students decided that attending class meetings should be optional, Wade
wrote, “After lengthy discussions, Sarah and I decided to tell the students that we would
return to mandatory participation” because “it became clear to me that not attending the
meetings was becoming a status issue among many of the boys in the class” (p. 348).
Upon further reflection, however, Wade realized, “teachers and students do not always
have the same interests” and “thus, I learned that student ownership is at the heart of
empowerment. Teachers need to find ways to support students' interests as well as to seek
out activities and learning opportunities that address the concerns of both teachers and
students” (p.348).
The way she handled the next two service project ideas seemed more in line with
a democratic classroom. The first was abandoned after not enough students showed
interests in the project, and during the next project the students had the option of being
involved or opting out.
Reflecting on the experience, and especially on her data from the service project,
Wade came to the realization that students must feel they have ownership of classroom
projects and activities for them to feel empowered by the experience. She noticed that
when her students were interested in the projects, they became motivated to engage more
closely in their learning.
By engaging in an action research approach, Wade became aware of the reality of
classroom logistics. As a participant in the classroom, Wade engaged in all aspects of the
classroom culture and realized the time-consuming nature of supporting student-initiated
service projects in elementary classrooms.
At the end of her study Wade wondered why she witnessed so few student-
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initiated projects and then summarized her findings into three categories: school context,
mixed messages from adults, and how the students understood schooling. Her findings
revealed the formidable obstacles created by conventional schooling practices when
trying to encourage student empowerment.
Wade mentioned how the students received mixed messages from the three adults
involved in this study, namely, the researcher, the host teacher, and the school principal.
The classroom teacher placed an emphasis on teacher authority and as Wade writes, “she
asserted that I should emphasize to the students the importance of adults having power
over children” (p. 351). Wade’s data in the form of personal journal entries provided
valuable insight into her experiences during her time at her research site. From this type
of data she recounted her thoughts, feelings, and perspectives as she interacted with the
students, host teacher, and others at the school.
Using an action research approach enabled Wade to immerse herself into the
culture of the classroom and experience the variety of behaviors and expectations that
influence a classroom setting and the difficulties of resisting customary schooling
behaviors. This action research study successfully parsed out the ways in which specific
ideologies and practices came into conflict with student agency and democratic
classroom practices.
Study #5: Designing compositional tasks for elementary music classrooms.
Beth Ann Miller, an elementary school music teacher who taught students in grades
kindergarten through fifth, wanted to “discover ways to facilitate student musical learning
through developmentally appropriate compositional strategies within the limited context
of the researcher’s own general music classes.” (p. 59). Miller’s inquiry into
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constructivist theory informed her educational approach. From her research, she found
that when students are allowed to construct their own knowledge, their learning is more
meaningful and memorable than knowledge that comes from teacher directed learning.
This insight led her to design a study to see if her students were able to better memorize
and perform musical compositions if they created their own musical notations.
Miller was interested in alternative forms of musical notation called iconic
representations of sound and felt that an iconic approach to music composition would
more readily conform to the developmental stages of children. For this study Miller
wanted to see if integrating compositional components into her curriculum would
promote her students’ acquisition of musical learning and meet the intellectual and
emotional diversity within her student body. Miller recognized that a hands-on approach
would coincide with her students’ desire for tactile modes of learning. She accomplished
this by having her students play various instruments and then use iconic representations
to illustrate the sounds such as raindrops to symbolize a soft sound or lightening bolts to
indicate a loud sound.
Miller identified herself as “an investigator working in my own classrooms” and
her methodology as “naturalistic action research” that involved recurring cycles of
“action/reflection and collaboration” (p. 61). Falling in line with the criteria of action
research as established by Ferrance (2000), Miller embarked on an investigation that fit
within her daily teaching practice.
To triangulate her data, Miller recorded her observations in a journal, videotaped
students during the composing process, kept artifacts of student compositions, and
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integrated critical feedback from students and teachers. Analyzing multiple sources of
data allowed Miller to discern a variety of perspectives and validate her findings.
The perpetual implementation of action and reflection is a crucial element of
action research (Bullough & Pinnegar, 2001; Ferrance, 2000; Kitchen & Stevens, 2003;
Wamba, 2011) and according to Miller:
The process of action and reflection meant that I consistently reconciled practice
with theory before and after teaching episodes, asking if the lesson plans were
based on sound learning theory, then reflecting upon the success of the lesson
with my own particular students. (p. 61).
Miller used what she learned from her study to inform her practice. Close
observations of student interactions helped guide curricular development to best suit the
needs of her classroom.
Summary. The key features of action research make it an effective methodology
for studying elementary classroom contexts. The review presented a sampling of five
action research studies in elementary classroom settings that illustrated the potential this
method has for informing the professional practices of elementary school teachers. An
analysis of these studies also revealed the need to implement this form of research
according to its inherent strengths. Action research offers a unique framework for
teachers to investigate their own practice but it is imperative that each fundamental
element is addressed. Generally, the “steps of the action research spiral” (Herr &
Anderson, 2005, p.76) include a qualitative methodology of problem formation, planning,
taking action, data collection, analysis, reflection (Dick, 2000; Noffke, 2009; Sagor,
1992), and then repeating and adjusting the cycle as necessary. Some of the studies
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reviewed here successfully met the criteria, while others did not fully incorporate all the
best practices of action research.
In Study #1: “Minute Math: An Action Research Study of Student Selfassessment” the university researchers and teachers who collaborated did not take
advantage of the classroom context of their study by establishing or chronicling the
relationship between the researchers, teachers, and participants. They failed to give an indepth and detailed description of the research site and its context within the framework of
the study or thoroughly explain why action research was the best method for this
particular investigation. Their data set relied on quantitative assessments rather than the
variety of qualitative approaches common to an action research exploration (Anderson,
Herr, & Nihlen, 2007; Myers, 1997). By the end of the study, the authors did not offer a
next step or plan of action to continue the cycle.
In study #2: “The Sustained Silent Reading Makeover that Transformed Readers”
Kelley and Clausen-Grace needed more data to establish a solid foundation for their
research findings rather than relying on a single data source. Additionally, they should
have taken advantage of having a classroom as their research site to engage with the
participants in a fuller measure. They did, however, employ the cyclical practice of action
research by reflecting on and then altering their methodology to improve the
effectiveness of the study and their classroom practices.
In study #3: “Implementing Readers Theatre as an Approach to Classroom
Fluency Instruction,” Young and Rasinski described what transpired during their study
but should have offered more detailed accounting of the research setting and the
perspectives of the participants. It also would have been helpful if Young and Rasinski
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offered more in the way of reflection and suggestions for future proposals by the end of
the study.
In study #4: “Encouraging Student Initiative in a Fourth-Grade Classroom,”
educational researcher Rahima Wade worked closely with a fourth grade teacher to
examine student initiative and empowerment in the elementary classroom. In this study,
Wade first presented relevant literature on student empowerment and then established the
context of her own investigation. By immersing herself into the research setting, Wade
collected a wide variety of data and experienced an intimate perspective that lent
credibility to her findings. At the end of her write up, Wade offered suggestions to other
educators interested in empowering students in classroom environments.
Lastly, in study #5: “Designing Compositional Tasks For Elementary Music
Classrooms,” music teacher Beth Ann Miller located her study within the context of a
constructivist framework emphasizing student empowerment. She developed a strong
research question and collected a wide range of data for her study. Miller repeated a
sequence of research, implementation, and reflection throughout her investigation. Her
study was successful because she crafted a relevant research question that was suitable to
her teaching practice. It was also successful because Miller was sensitive to the needs and
perspectives of her students who were the participants of the study. Miller carefully
considered feedback she received from her peers and was willing to adapt and adjust her
teacher practice as she viewed her research as ongoing tool for professional
development.
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How the Design of this Study Incorporated the Key Features of Action Research
The best practices of action research provide an excellent framework for
investigating research questions in the elementary classroom. When using action research
it is essential to include an in-depth description of the research site, develop relevant
research questions, gather sufficient data, offer ideas for further implementation, and
propose ways to modify what was learned for use in other educational venues.
In this study, I began with a narrative that described how I became a teacher at the
research site, my relationship with the faculty and administration, the political climate of
the school, and the evolution of my classroom space. I used this narrative to chronicle the
complex and varied interactions that informed different aspects of this study such as data
collection, analysis, reflections, and implications.
The research questions that anchored this study were pertinent to my professional
practices as an educator and artist. The questions emerged from years of observations
during my time as a general elementary classroom teacher and provided a line of inquiry
that contributed to my growth as an artist, researcher, and teacher.
Studying my own classroom afforded me many opportunities to collect data on
the self-initiated creative actions of my students. As their teacher, I was at the research
site each day school was in session, which enabled me to acquire an abundance of data in
a wide variety of creative mediums. This extensive database provided an ample number
of artifacts that fit the requirements for inclusion in the final data set from which I
gleaned pertinent themes and patterns. Conversely, my role as a classroom teacher added
to the limitations and challenged the trustworthiness of this study. Although my goal was
to develop a nurturing, democratic classroom where students became empowered as
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learners, I was still a teacher who possessed the inherent privileges and authorities that
came along with that title. Despite the fact that the children were encouraged to critically
analyze our classroom practices, take part in debates, and determine many of our rules of
conduct, they still showed deference to me as their teacher. Additionally, although I
worked as part of a teaching team, I was the only researcher in this study and it was
solely up to me to collect, categorize, analyze, and interpret the data.
Fortunately, an important aspect of action research is its ongoing cyclical design,
which allows the researcher to reflect on the successes and challenges met during the
research process. The lessons I learned from the reflective process will guide the
formulation of a new action plan geared toward improving my professional practice. This
cycle provides a framework for me to conduct future research, refine my teaching skills,
and evolve as an educator.
Artist-Researcher-Teacher
Graeme Sullivan (2006) suggested we consider the roles of artist, researcher and
teacher as research practices and “to view the Artist as someone who en-acts and
embodies creative and critical inquiry; the Researcher [as someone who] acts in relation
to the culture of the research community; and the Teacher [as someone who] re-acts in
ways that involve others in artistic inquiry and educational outcomes” (p. 25). In the
classroom, my avocation as an artist led me to critically examine how creativity informed
learning. My role as researcher enabled my classroom to become a site for investigation
and analysis. As a professional teacher, I reacted to what I had discovered by modifying,
altering and transforming my practice.
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I used action research to study the self-initiated creativity of children in a general
classroom setting and examine how they engaged in various creative contexts. It provided
a framework from which to conduct research and generate new understandings on the
pedagogical implications of the self-initiated creative endeavors of my students.
During my professional practice as a teacher, I became what Donald Schön
termed a “reflective practitioner” (1983). As a reflective practitioner I engaged in
continuous critical reflection (Tsafos, 2009; Winograd, 2002) as an active agent in my
own teaching practice (Hinchey, 2008; Tofteng & Husted, 2011). In the Fall of 2009, I
began collecting photo and video documentation of the creative processes and products of
my students to better inform my reflexive practice. As an artist, the photo and video
documentation offered a way for me to further “en-act” the creation of an environment
supporting the self-initiated learning processes of children that compares to my own art
studio practice. As a researcher, the photo and video documentation supplied data from
which I could study the pedagogical effects of creativity in the classroom and improve
my ability to “act” as the educator I desired to be. As a teacher, the photo and video
documentation provided a chronicle of the creative practices emerging in my classroom
so that I could more effectively reflect on them and “re-act” in co-constructing future
lessons and activities. Additional reflective activities on these documentations included
published articles as well as numerous conversations and email communiqués with
colleagues. For this study, the visual images helped to map my experiences and enliven
my data set with “richness and clarity” (Liebenberg, 2009, p. 460).
Utilizing an action research framework provided ample time for me to examine
and investigate the questions put forth in this study within the context of my daily
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teaching routine. Being present with my students for the duration of their time in my
classroom, allowed me to find out what the self-initiated creativity of children in a
general elementary classroom tells us about the ways in which children go about the
learning process and navigating a classroom space. At the same time I was able to
observe the impact of facilitating self-initiated creativity within the everyday constraints
of a schooling environment.
Action Research as Narrative
Narrative representation is integral to action research. Ernest Stringer (2013)
described action research as “the story of participant experiences and perspectives” (p.
217). According to Anderson, Herr & Nihlen (2007) action research practitioners “use
narrative and story as a way to communicate professional knowledge” (p. 34). The SAGE
Handbook of Action Research offers a succinct rationale for the democratic aspects of
action research: “Everybody’s story counts” (Yorks et al., 2007, p. 493).
Creative learning environments offer students unique and innovative learning
opportunities and “the arts provide access to forms of experience” that are otherwise
difficult to obtain (Eisner, 2006, p. 11). My students had opportunities to engaged in selfdirected learning and used the classroom as a space for creative exploration and
collaboration.
In this study, action research methods formulated a narrative from the local
perspectives of an elementary classroom teacher and his students. An examination of the
self-initiated creative endeavors of fourth and fifth graders within that classroom
provided insights into how children navigate their learning when allowed creative
agency.
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Action Research in the Elementary Classroom
Insider perspective. Action research as a method of inquiry has been used in a
wide variety of studies that incorporate numerous approaches and methodologies. These
include producing artworks to explore the experiences of homeless women (Clover,
2011), offering children opportunities to make connections between famous works of art
and their own creativity (Korn-Bursztyn, 2002), determining the implications of using
photography as an autobiographical source of documentation (Prins, 2010), using theater
production to illustrate power structures within the labor market (Tofteng & Husted,
2011), exploring how participants experience teacher-education programs (Tsafos, 2009),
employing democratic pedagogical approaches in the classroom (Wamba, 2011),
examining stereotypes in education (Weaver-Hightower, 2010), enacting social change
through arts-based intervention (Hutzel, 2007), and investigating teacher-student relations
(Winograd, 2002). Action research requires that participants take an active role in their
own education via research, engagement, and critical reflection (Tsafos, 2009, May,
1993). This is also referred to as “the Lewinian ‘spiral’ of planning, taking action,
observing” (Noffke, 2009, p. 7) or, as summarized by Ernie Stringer: “look-think-act”
(Stringer 1999, as cited in Wamba, 2011, p. 165). According to Huang (2010), action
research is said to have “originated in the 1950s with the social-psychology work of Kurt
Lewin” (p. 95). Lewin was considered the “grandfather of action research” (Hinchey,
2008, p. 11) and felt it necessary for research to become part of real world contexts. In
the classroom, action research is a “teacher-driven” (Cooper & White, 2008, p. 103)
method of inquiry that “provides a way for teachers to explore their own questions for the
purpose of improving their own practice” (Miller, 1996, p. 103).
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Studies have highlighted a number of elements that illustrate the strengths of
using an action research approach. Action research includes a variety of techniques
(Anderson, Herr, & Nihlen, 2007), as educational practitioners are usually referred to as
researchers who conduct “teacher research, classroom research, action research, teacher
action research, classroom action research, and collaborative action research” or “critical
action research, teacher inquiry, classroom inquiry, practitioner research” (Hinchey,
2008, p. 5). According to Kitchen and Stevens (2003), “most action research involves
identifying an issue, collecting baseline data, implementing a plan, and documenting and
reflecting on our present actions in order to revise our future actions” (p. 1).
All of the aforementioned approaches identify the teacher as an “insider”
(Anderson, Herr, & Nihlen, 2007; Cochran-Smith, 2003; Hinchey, 2008; Smith, Bratini,
Chambers, Jensen, & Romero, 2010). An “insider perspective” (Sullivan, 1996, p. 220)
offers opportunities not possible to researchers coming from the traditional research
standpoint of outsiders (Brydon-Miller, Greenwood, & Maguire, 2003; Clandinin &
Connelly, 1996; Noffke, 1997; Philo, 2003). Outsiders are defined as those who believe
that they conduct research from neutral positions (Anderson & Herr, 1999) and are “often
social scientists” (Bartunek & Louis, 1996, p. 2). These social scientists “typically
experience the setting under study as would visitors” (p. 3) making them “more detached
from the research setting than is the insider” (p. 15). According to Anderson, Herr, &
Nihlen (2007), “what makes practitioner action research unique is that
practitioners/researchers are their own subjects” (p. 8). Other foci for this study included
the self-initiated creative processes that my students generated and products that they
produced under my tutelage.
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Teachers have “daily access, extensive expertise, and a clear stake in improving
classroom practice” (Bresler, 1993, p. 31) and through action research they combine their
tacit knowledge of the classroom with systematic inquiry (Herr & Anderson, 2005). This
orientation allows teacher/researchers to customize their methodologies to best serve their
educational philosophies and the interests of their students (Weaver-Hightower, 2010).
The conception of insider research harkens back to the writings of John Dewey (Kitchen
& Stevens, 2003) and his view that teachers should be “critical inquirers of their own
practice” (May, 1993, p. 114). Dewey promoted the standpoint of an insider perspective,
arguing, “research shouldn’t be done solely by outsiders on behalf of teachers, but also by
the insiders, teachers themselves” (Hinchey, 2008, p. 8).
Hilary Bradbury Huang, the Editor-in-Chief of the journal Action Research,
defined action research as “an orientation to knowledge creation that arises in a context of
practice,” with the purpose of “generating knowledge and empowering stakeholders”
(Huang, 2010, p. 93). Action research is a type of “practical inquiry” that teachers use as
a means to improve their practice leading to “immediate classroom change” (Richardson,
1994, p. 5). According to Peter Reason and Hilary Bradbury Huang, “a primary purpose
of action research is to produce practical knowledge that is useful to people in the
everyday conduct of their lives” (Reason & Bradbury, 2001, p. 2). This heuristic form of
inquiry offers continual feedback (Pitri, 2006) for teachers and researchers as they
examine and evaluate their particular circumstances (Hinchey, 2008). Action research is
therefore a process in which researchers “privilege the context of practice over
disembodied theory” (Huang, 2010, p. 93).
While the insider position brings with it a level of authenticity (Herr & Anderson,
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2005), it also makes it challenging for the researcher to balance subjectivity with a level
of objectivity (Anderson, Herr, & Nihlen, 2007) given that action researchers will
invariably view the research from their professional practitioner perspectives (Kinsler,
2010). Objectivity may be accomplished by including a “self reflexive critique” (Wamba,
2011, p. 174), also known as “reflexive inquiry” (Cole & Knowles, 2000, p. 104) as a
component of the research process, versus the “unreflexive modernist and positivist
claims to truth” (Lau, 2007, p. 101) found in more traditional modes of inquiry. A
reflexive stance requires that the researcher take a critical and objective look at how his
or her presence and actions might effect the participants and impact the research site
(Bresler, 2006) so that all involved may benefit from the experience (Cochran-Smith,
2003; Sullivan, 2006).
Theory to practice. Action research is organic, holistic, serendipitous, nuanced,
dialogical, flexible, complex, messy, and an ever-evolving work in progress (Anderson,
Herr & Nihlen, 2007; Brydon-Miller, Greenwood & Maguire, 2003; Hinchey, 2008;
Stout, 2006; Tsafos, 2009; Wamba, 2011; Weaver-Hightower, 2010; Winograd, 2002).
The important aspects of action research methodologies are its participatory and
reflective qualities (Bullough & Pinnegar, 2001; Cochran-Smith, 2003; Kinsler, 2010;
Wamba, 2011). Teachers and other educational practitioners frequently reference the
dissociation between theory and practical classroom application (Bresler, 1993; Noffke,
1997) as a stumbling block to incorporating research findings into their curriculum
(Freedman, 2004). There has also been controversy regarding the validation of
practitioner research among research universities (Anderson & Herr, 1999). As Bresler
(1993) points out:
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Rarely did scholars read work produced by teachers, mostly because they did not
see it as contributing to academic knowledge. Likewise, teachers rarely read
academic publications because they do not see them as relevant to their practical
concerns. The use of jargon made scholarly work even less accessible to
practitioners and reflected the fact that the practical and the scholarly worlds did
not share the same language (p. 32).
A major asset to action research is that it “bridges the traditional theory-practice,
knowledge-action gap” (Noffke, 1997, p. 306) and “goes beyond the notion that theory
can inform practice, to a recognition that theory can and should be generated through
practice” (Brydon-Miller, Greenwood & Maguire, 2003, p. 15). These “implicit or local
theories” (Bartunek & Louis, 1996, p. 5) have been critically characterized as “particular”
(p. 15) as opposed to universal generalized theories. Yet, as Bullough and Pinnegar
observe, “that for public theory to influence educational practice it must be translated
through the personal. Only when a theory can be seen to have efficacy in a practical arena
will that theory have life” (Bullough & Pinnegar, 2001, p. 15). Clandinin and Connelly
refer to the space where theory and classroom practice converge as “the professional
knowledge landscape” (Clandinin & Connelly, 1996, p. 24). This “intersection between
theory and practice” provides an environment for developing “a robust and effective
approach to enhancing education through practitioner research” (Kitchen & Stevens,
2003, p. 5). Furthermore, an action research approach allows theory to be seen “as a
proposal, not a prescription” and teachers are therefore encouraged “to adjust it to their
classroom and evaluate or even expand it in the light of practice” (Tsafos, 2009, p. 160).
An examination of the literature on action research reveals key features that make
it an effective methodology for studying elementary classroom contexts. Action research
offers a unique framework for teachers to investigate their own practice but it is
imperative that each fundamental element is addressed. Generally, the “steps of the action
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research spiral” (Herr & Anderson, 2005, p. 76) include a qualitative methodology (Dick,
2000) of problem formation, planning, taking action, data collection, data analysis,
reflecting (Ferrance, 2000; May, 1993; Noffke, 2009; Sagor, 1992; Stankiewicz, 1997)
and then repeating and adjusting the cycle as necessary.
When adhering to its best practices, action research works well in elementary
classroom contexts. Unlike middle or high school teachers who teach specific content
areas, elementary classroom teachers instruct students in a wide variety of areas including
math, language arts, science, and social studies. In addition, elementary students spend
most of the day in the same classroom, a setting that lends itself to in-depth observations
and varied forms of data collection that are the building blocks of action research.
According to Sagor (1992), “schools are naturally data-rich environments” (p. 31) and
“action researchers embrace context as an integral part of their work” (Sagor, 1992, p.
29). Time spent with the same group of students allows elementary classroom teachers
opportunities to become researchers. In the elementary classroom teachers can put theory
into practice by incorporating the cyclical framework of action research and adapting
their practice day to day, week to week, and month to month. Action research offers a
unique method of inquiry for elementary teachers to understand and improve their
classroom by “generating the knowledge that informs their practice” (Sagor, 1992, p. 4).
Artistic Practice as Research
A significant part of my artistic practice outside of the classroom involves reading
texts, viewing documentaries, and visiting exhibitions that offer insights into the working
processes of modern and contemporary artists. These aspects of my art making practice
also provide a multifaceted foundation from which to examine the art making activities
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and creative explorations of my students. In the classroom, the “texts,” “documentaries,”
and “exhibitions” emerge as student dialogues, teacher observations, and an analysis of
the students’ creative artifacts. As Marshall posited: “clarity and meaning are engendered
when ideas, concepts, or information is transformed into visual images, objects, or visual
experiences” (2007, p. 23). Observing the evolution of the creative process and analyzing
the artifacts produced provided a “locally meaningful” (Finley, 2005, p. 682) way to
study the self-initiated creativity of my students.
Whatever the form, arts practices challenge, critique and disrupt the status quo
(Bagley & Castro-Salazar, 2012; Barone & Eisner, 2012; Bell & Desai, 2011; Brown &
Strega, 2005; Higgins, 2010). Schools were conceptualized by Foucault “as being
socializing instruments of the status quo, creating institutional sites of reproduction,
strictly regulating the movement, behaviours, beliefs and presentation of children,
causing them to internalize norms in unconscious ways” (Higgins, 2010, p. 40). In the
research setting for this study, the status quo emerged as the traditional teaching
framework adopted by the school.
Interrogating the status quo. Since its inception, American public schooling has
become “increasingly standardized” (Gray, 2013, p. 64) which runs counter to the desire
of children to “learn through self-directed play and exploration” (p. 65). The self-initiated
creativity examined in this study provided a way for my students to engage in arts-based
learning. This pedagogy also provided a way to interrogate the commonly held
assumptions surrounding the ritualistic learning environments of elementary classrooms
that constrain “individual actions” as “young people are schooled through repetitive
embodied practice” (Chappell, Chappell, & Margolis, 2011, p. 56). Elliot Eisner wrote
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“children spend a major portion of their childhood in school” (1994, p. 87) becoming so
immersed in a schooling culture which eventually becomes the norm. He emphasized
how “traditional views of cognition…have put the arts at the rim, rather than at the core,
of education” (2002, pg. xi).
In this study an arts-based pedagogy allowed the artist-researcher-teacher and his
students the agency to “unearth counter narratives” through engagement with their selfinitiated creative endeavors. Those student desires, proposals and voices normally
“silenced in mainstream discourses” (Bell & Desai, 2011, p. 289) were now empowered
to challenge “the dominant discourses and conventional ideas” within their school
(Bagley & Castro-Salazar, 2012, p. 241).
Arts-based practices as a process of knowing. Arts-based practices provide
experiential ways of understanding (Marshall, 2007; Sullivan, 2006). Elliot Eisner
described knowledge as something that is constructed through experience (Finley, 2005).
Julia Marshall (2007) wrote, “meaning are engendered when ideas, concepts, or
information is transformed into visual images, objects, or visual experiences” (p. 23). Art
making as a method of research and pedagogy allows ideas to become visible and
tangible, providing new insights for learning and instruction in the classroom
environment (Eisner, 2006; Marshall, 2007; Sullivan, 2006). Learning through the arts
has been described as “special” (Sullivan, 2006, p. 24), “imaginative” (Eisner, 2006, p.
10), and “accessible” (Marshall, 2007, p. 23). The arts invite playful learning,
exploration, risk taking, and creative problem solving (Silverman, 2006).
The data in this study emerged from my students’ arts-based engagements as my
students were given ownership of their learning environment and allowed to curate the
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classroom space with their self-initiated creative processes and artifacts.
Procedures of the Study
During the time of the study (the 2012-2013 school year), there were 25 fourth
graders and 29 fifth graders enrolled in the private day school in which Eddie and I
worked. Collectively, the fourth and fifth grade classrooms were known as The Bridge
Program. The fourth grade was comprised of thirteen girls and twelve boys. Eddie and I
had the fourth graders during the first half of the day for our STEAM (science,
technology, engineering, the arts, and math) class. The fifth grade was comprised of
sixteen girls and thirteen boys who spent their mornings in the Humanities classrooms
learning reading, writing, and history with Leah and Rachel. In the afternoon, the fourth
graders went to the Humanities classrooms and the fifth graders came to ours. Each day,
the first through fifth grades had lunch at 11:05 and then the students in The Bridge had
recess together from 11:45 until 12:15. At 2:20, the fourth and fifth graders went to
Physical Education after which the fourth graders came back to our classroom for
dismissal at 3:05. Therefore, each student spent approximately two hours in our
classroom each day.
According to the school’s online profile, total enrollment for the 2012-2013
school year was 513 students in grades Pre-K-12 with a minority enrollment of 31%
(African American, Middle Eastern, Native American, Asian, Latino). Our private day
school prided itself on being the only independent college-preparatory school in the area
with students in the 2013 graduating class being accepted into seven out of the eight Ivy
League colleges and universities. The number of students enrolled in the Lower School
(grades Pre-K-5) was 156. Of the fourth grade boys, one was African American, one
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Asian, one Middle Eastern, two were Native American, and seven were white. Of the
fourth grade girls, one was Middle Eastern, two were Native American, and ten were
white. Of the fifth grade boys, one was Native American and twelve were white. Of the
fifth grade girls, one was African American, one Asian, three were Native American, and
eleven were white.
The school day started at 8:00 a.m. School districts located within a 15-mile
radius were required to provide bus transportation for the students in their district who
attended our school. Some students took the bus to school, while others students were
dropped off by their parents. In most of the Lower School classrooms there was a list of
things the children were required to do when they arrived and, as some teachers put it,
“get right to work.” However, there were a handful of parents who were chronically late
and their children would often arrive frantic and disheveled. To relieve their stress, Eddie
and I allowed the children to ease into the school day by allowing them to choose how
they wanted to spend their time. Mostly, they chatted with friends, worked on a project,
or played a game before they had to leave to go to their first encore class (art, music,
world language, or library) at 8:15 a.m. Upon their return, we had a class meeting to
catch up with each other, share ideas, and discuss how we wanted to approach the day’s
lessons and activities.
Eddie and I preferred to teach math and science using a hands-on, discoverybased, creative exploratory approach. However, the Lower School administration
required us to dedicate 30 minutes each day to traditional direct instruction teaching that
focused on a list of math skills and benchmarks the sixth grade math teacher wanted the
students to master by the end of fifth grade. We were also required to prepare the fifth
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graders for the school’s annual science fair, which meant the students had to closely
follow the scientific process and conduct an experiment to present to parents and faculty
in April with an accompanying standardized final report. Other than that, we developed
the schedule according to our wishes and together with the students, generated a weekly
agenda that could be modified and adjusted when necessary.
Besides the thirty minutes of direct math instruction each day, our weekly agenda
afforded the students ownership of their learning. On Mondays, we introduced and
practiced a new math concept for the week and then guided the children through a
science experiment. On Tuesdays and Wednesdays, the children developed their own
science experiment or math activity that evolved from the Monday experiment and/or
math concept, which they could do alone or in a group. Students who felt they needed
additional help or practice with the math or science concepts had the opportunity to meet
with a teacher or receive support via peer tutoring. On Thursdays, the students developed
presentations that celebrated their learning during the first part of the week. Fridays were
dedicated to tying up any loose ends and in the final hour we watched student
presentations on our classroom stage. The children produced a broad spectrum of
presentations that included skits, PowerPoint presentations, student-directed movies,
musical productions, vocal and dance performances, comedy routines, scientific or
mathematical demonstrations, and brief orations. Students could opt out of the Friday
presentation; especially those who were shy or felt uncomfortable getting up on our
classroom stage. Nevertheless, by the beginning of December, each student had
volunteered to take part in the presentations.
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How the students engaged in self-initiated creativity throughout the school
day. Although the majority of the presentations could be considered creative productions,
for this study, data was only collected on the self-initiated creative artifacts or creative
processes produced by a student or group of students via their own agency and on
occasions of their own choosing. The artifacts and processes found in the data were not
an extension of a lesson, something a student identified as being learned in a previous
classroom, or a school sanctioned project or event.
The students found opportunities and space to engage in self-initiated creativity
throughout the day. I used an iPhone to take photo and video documentation of their selfinitiated creativity as they arrived to school, learned and practiced new math concepts,
developed and conducted science experiments, had snack breaks, ate lunch, played during
recess, worked independently, moved through transition times, watched Friday
presentations, and waited to be dismissed at the end of the day.
When students arrived at our classroom in the morning they had time to catch up
with friends, play a game, work on a project, or climb on our classroom climbing wall.
They organized and curated the classroom space by setting up work and studio spaces,
moving furniture to suit their needs, demarcating floor diagrams with masking or duct
tape, drawing and writing messages on the whiteboard, drawing on and marking the
tabletops, playing music, projecting videos, and hanging creative artifacts and projects
from the walls and ceiling.
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Figure 8. Front of our classroom before students arrived for the school day. (2013)
Figure 9. Classroom after students arrived. During Morning Mingle students arranged
tables for a game, worked on projects, and caught up with friends. (2013).
The most restrictive time of day for our students was the direct instruction portion
of math class. For this half hour all the students were required to take part in a teacherdirected lesson rather than choosing how they went about their learning. However, the
students still found ways to engage in self-initiated creativity. The children designed their
own portable and temporary art studios where artwork and academic work happened
concurrently. Some gathered materials and set up mini-art studios at their seats before
class began using supplies that were easy to transport such as pens, pencils, markers,
string, scissors, tape, and paper. Others retrieved materials as the need arose, sometimes
taking a detour to their locker or supply shelf on their way back from going to the
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bathroom or getting a drink at the water fountain. Students were allowed to create during
math class as long as it did not interfere with their learning or distract the learning of
others. As the school year progressed, the math class creations became commonplace and
in my view, were seldom a distraction.
Figure 10. Photo-montage of students creating during math class (2012-2013). Left to
right: Making a Scented Marker poster, Drawing on tabletop and creating stickers out of
paper, makers, and glue. Four girls sharing a mini-studio set up.
During the warm weather, Snack Time took place outdoors. It was during this
time that students had a few minutes to explore the natural world and gather materials for
their creations. When the children had Snack Time inside, the snack itself was often used
as a creative element as they made pictures and designs out of Cheerios.
Figure 11. Photos of students creating during Snack Time (2012-2013). From left
to right: Collecting stones for an insect cemetery, gathering plants for an inchworm
habitat, and writing a name using Cheerios.
The classroom space itself also became a site for self-initiated creativity. This
often happened while the children were engaged in self-directed learning on Tuesdays,
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Wednesdays, and Thursdays. When not used during a climbing break on our indoor
climbing wall, the crash pads were appropriated to construct partitions for private
working spaces.
Figure 12. Left: Student taking a climbing break. Right: Students using crash pads as
partitions for a private workspace (2013).
Lunch was served family-style in the dining hall where each Lower School
student sat at an assigned table with a teacher and a mix of children from different grades
levels. Playing with food was discouraged, but I allowed the students who were seated at
my table to make self-initiated creations with their food as long as they were not
wasteful. Dining hall creations ranged from drawing with ketchup and making paper
gliders from placemats to carving apples.
Figure 13. Alien ship carved out of an apple with a working hatch and removable alien
character (2012).
Recess provided the students 30 uninterrupted minutes each day to focus on their
self-initiated creativity. During outdoor recess the children enjoyed making movies,
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creating habitats for inchworms and salamanders they found by looking under leaves and
overturning stones, and constructing forts in the wooded areas of the campus. During
indoor recess the children had access to our classroom supplies and made mixtures and
solutions with a variety of glues, paints, glitter and food coloring while others engaged in
more traditional forms of creativity such as drawing and painting.
Figure 14. Examples of outdoor and indoor recess self-initiated creativity. Left to right:
Discarded items collected from the campus grounds and brought to a fort construction
site in early spring. A “potion” made by mixing dishwashing liquid, water, salt, and dry
watercolor pigment (2013).
Most of our classroom time was dedicated to our version of student directed,
integrated STEAM learning. During this time the students worked on their math and
science explorations at their own pace and according to their interests. At any given time,
the children could be found conferencing with a teacher, working on math problems,
conducting science experiments, creating displays, and preparing presentations. It was
also during this time that the children were free to take a break that involved a physical
activity such as using the classroom climbing wall or engaging in a self-initiated creative
exploration.
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Figure 15. Photo-montage of students during our STEAM portion of the day (2013). Left
to right: Painting a poster for a science project, exploring paints, and engaging in a
climbing activity.
In our attempt to function as a democratic learning environment, classroom
protocols and practices were proposed, discussed, debated, and voted on throughout the
year. One such vote involved the conduct of audience members during the weekly
presentations. Some of the children felt that audience members should sit quietly and give
their full attention to the students who were presenting on the stage. Others argued that
they should not be compelled to take part in every presentation either as a presenter or an
audience member. Debates were held and a vote was taken. It was decided that
participation as an audience member or presenter was optional. Those who did not take
part in the presentations were allowed to engage in a different activity as long as it did
not interrupt or interfere with the presentations. Usually, students who did not take part in
the presentations ended up reading a book, working on an assignment, or developing a
creative project.
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Figure 16. A student presents as others draw on the whiteboard (2013).
The end of the school day provided an additional few minutes for the students to
engage in self-initiated creativity. While waiting to be dismissed their favorite creative
activities included drawing on the whiteboard and drumming on the tabletops.
Figure 17. Students drumming on a tabletop while waiting to be dismissed (2013).
Data collection. As mentioned earlier in this writing, I have always been
fascinated with the self-initiated creativity of my students. When I started teaching in
1995, students would sometimes give me samples of their work, which I kept in a file
folder. Within a few years I began to use a Sony Mavica FD5 digital still camera to
record the creativity of my students. The Mavica was large compared to today’s standards
and the photos were saved on removable 3.5inch floppy disks. Each disk had 1.44MB of
space, which meant I could only take about 30 standard quality pictures before the disk
was full. Since digital photographic technology was a recent addition to our classroom it
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caused a lot of excitement whenever I used the camera so I had to be careful to use it in a
way that would not disrupt the learning.
In 2003, I began using a Canon PowerShot S200 with a 16MB CompactFlash
card that had enough space to store approximately 40 pictures. Although the Canon was
smaller than the Mavica, it still caused a stir in the classroom. At that time the faculty
borrowed digital cameras from our school’s library only using them on rare occasions to
document special events such as field trips or our annual holiday program. It was unusual
that I had a digital camera dedicated for my own classroom use and even more unusual
that I spent time photographing the self-initiated creative work of my students.
Six years later I purchased my first iPhone 3G. The iPhone was much smaller
than the digital cameras making it more convenient to capture photographic images of my
students’ creative work. The following fall I purchased the iPhone 4, which also had the
ability to capture video. By the 2012-2013 school year personal digital technology had
become the norm. Many of my students had their own flip phones, mp3 players, iPods,
iPads, iPhones, and laptop computers. This digital ubiquitousness made the
documentation of my students’ creative work much less of a distraction. There was no
longer a wave of excitement among the students when they saw me use my iPhone to
document their creative work. The iPhone was also more convenient and less obtrusive
than when I used the earlier digital cameras. I carried the iPhone in my pocket, which
made it readily available throughout the school day. The iPhone contained more storage
space than the older digital cameras allowing me to take pictures as well as videos on a
daily basis. Each night I transferred the photos and videos onto an external hard drive to
free up storage space on my phone.
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By the 2012-2013 school year, it was common for students to see me document
their creative work as part of my daily professional practice. Sometimes I would notice
students working and ask permission to photograph their work and other times they
would voluntarily bring their work to me. When they asked me why I was taking
pictures, I told them that as a teacher, educational researcher, and artist I was interested in
the creativity of children. I used the photos to help me recall and reflect on the day’s
events, lessons, and activities and to inform my own creative practice. I refrained from
documenting any work my students wanted to keep private but this only happened on rare
occasions as when a student did drawings in a personal journal or diary. For the most
part, they were happy to share their creative work with me. I also made it a point to
inform the class that if for any reason they did not want me to photographic their work,
they should feel free to simply tell me to not take any pictures. The students seemed to
have no problem informing me when they wanted to keep something private. Some
would address me as if I were a peer with a curt, “Go away, Rufo” when they saw me
approach, iPhone at the ready.
Most students, however, seemed to enjoy the attention and enthusiastically shared
their work. A few brought in works they created at home and ask that I document it.
Although I would take a picture and have a conversation about the work, I did not use
any of those photos as part of my data set for this study. It was important that the data
was culled from work created at the school to best address the questions put forth by this
study.
By the fall of 2012, I was taking photographs and videos of my students’ work
throughout the day, everyday. Eddie and I team-taught every subject together, whereas
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the other grade level teams shared academic responsibilities cycling the students between
them. For example, one of the third grade teachers taught math and science in a separate
classroom with half of the third grade students while the other taught language arts and
social studies with the other half in the classroom next door. Team teaching with Eddie in
the same classroom afforded me the ability to take advantage of those moments when I
noticed an occurrence of self-initiated creativity underway. I also got very good at
capturing photo and video documentation “on the fly” so to speak. I could quickly size up
and recognize an opportunity, determine where to position myself for maximum lighting
and the least amount of interruption, figure out the best angle for clarity, rapidly procure
a number of photos or seconds of video, assess the context of the creative activity, and if
possible, engage the student or students in a brief conversation about their work. Still,
since the self-initiated creations looked different from the teacher-directed creativity that
took place in the other grade level classrooms as well as the art rooms, I was aware that
this practice might appear strange to some members of the faculty, staff, and
administration. Therefore, when in the presence of other faculty, staff, or administration,
I did my best not to draw attention to the fact that I was photographing and videotaping
the creativity of my students. When not in the presence of these individuals, there were
certain times of the day such as Morning Mingle, Snack Time, recess and dismissal when
documentation was a relatively easy task since the children had more independence and
less need for teacher assistance. Documenting during math and STEAM classes proved
more challenging because I was teaching or assisting students as they worked on various
projects. The most difficult time for me to document student work was during lunch.
Most of the other faculty members as well as the head of Lower School did not approve
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of students doing anything that fell outside the confines of our school’s protocols and
practices. During lunch, students were expected to remain at their tables engaged in polite
conversation. It was evident that the students’ self-initiated creations, especially those
involving food, did not reflect our school’s dining hall etiquette.
Very few parents ever brought up the subject of my photo documentations. This
might have been due to the fact that since the fall of 2010, I sent home daily email blasts
that contained information and photographs of each day’s lessons and activities. Also,
parental consent forms were not necessary for this study since, in July of 2013, the
Institutional Review Board evaluated the proposal for this research as exempt. It was
designated and authorized as such since it examined existing, unidentifiable data selected
from digital photographic and video files of the self-initiated creative artifacts of fourth
and fifth grade students that were captured by the researcher during the 2012-2013 school
year.
Data organization. I analyzed the data and explored the self-initiated creativity
of my students in a general elementary classroom setting using a grounded theory
research approach (Strauss & Corbin, 2008), including photo-documentation (Rose,
2012, Suchar, 1997), and multiple text methods (Keats, 2009). According to Keats:
“There are three main types of texts that can be used in a multiple text method - spoken,
written, and visual” (2009, p. 185). The digital photographs and videos of the creative
artifacts are presented as visual texts, my published articles and personal journal entries
in the form of email communiqués are the written texts, and the spontaneous
conversations I overheard as students described and shared their art making processes are
the spoken texts. In order to protect the identities of my students and colleagues, I
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adhered to Syracuse University Institutional Review Board criteria. These IRB criteria
include filing and approval of the research design.
For this study, creativity was defined as the meaning-making process and the
material results of my student’s self-initiated creative actions. All the photographs and
video clips taken of the artifacts that fell within the definition of self-initiated creativity in
this study were included in the initial set of 1038 pieces of raw data. These artifacts
included: two-dimensional renderings, three-dimensional objects, interior design and
organization, and live or recorded activities such as music, dance, and movie-making. 25
fourth graders and 29 fifth graders produced all of the creative artifacts at the research
site from September 6, 2012 to June 5, 2013. A creative artifact or process was
considered a piece of data for this study on the self-initiated creativity of children if the
researcher could reasonably infer that it had not been initiated or directed by a teacher, an
extension of a lesson, something a student identified as being learned in a previous
classroom, or a school sanctioned project or event. For example, a piece of data in the
form of a video clip was not considered a self-initiated creative artifact or creative
process if in the clip, a student mentioned having previously learned the same creative
technique in an art class. Or, for example, an original music video that a group of
students filmed as a way to present their learning of a scientific concept was not
classified in this study as self-initiated since it emerged from a science lesson.
Decorations created for the school’s Christmas tree were not considered self-initiated
creative artifacts since they were produced during a school sanctioned holiday party.
However, artifacts and processes influenced by a peer were considered selfinitiated because the students had a greater level of agency and self-governance amongst
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their peers that did not exist in their relationships with teachers. Within a peer group, the
choice to create or not to create was essentially up to each individual student. Of course,
creativity initiated and influenced by teachers and other classroom experiences can be
considered richly creative pursuits leading to meaningful outcomes. The focus for this
study was creative artifacts and processes that were ultimately produced by students via
their own agency and on occasions of their own choosing. While documenting their
creative activities I asked general questions such as “What are you doing?” though was
careful not to direct the process, influence the outcome, or offer suggestions except to
ensure the safety and wellbeing of my students.
During the initial reading of the data set, each photograph and video file was
assigned a category according to the medium used by students (glue, string, masking
tape, etc.) and/or type of creative artifact (fort, painting, movie, etc.) These digital files
containing 1038 pieces of raw data were organized and stored on an external, password
protected hard drive (Figure 18). Within each folder, the data was subdivided into the
year it was collected (Figure 19).
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Figure 18. Computer screenshot detail of digital files containing 1038 pieces of
raw data in the form of photographs and video clips (2016).
Figure 19. Computer screenshot detail showing digital files of raw data
subdivided by year (2016).
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Within each year, the data was further subdivided according to the date each
artifact or creative process was created and subfolders housed photographs and videos of
creative artifacts or processes that were documented more than once (Figure 13).
Figure 20. Computer screenshot detail showing digital files of raw data
subdivided by date of creation (2016).
Criteria for data selected for inclusion in the final data set. The data set was
eventually narrowed down to 253 pieces of data that were coded and analyzed using a
thematic analysis allowing emergent themes to develop (Saldana, 2009). Matrices were
formulated to organize the information, identify themes salient to my research topic, and
serve as a visual system and “scientific codification process to ‘interrogate’ the data”
(Sagor, 1992, p. 49).
Many of the artifacts and processes were documented more than once and
therefore it would have been redundant to include all of the photographic and video
documentations of raw data in the final data set. A piece of data was not included in the
final data set if it simply provided information already found the data set and did not offer
additional perspectives or reveal new understandings. For example, one day during snack
a group of students decided to decorate the keyboard and track pad of my laptop
computer with Cheerios. However, since the two photos merely show different views of
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the same event, only one was counted as piece of data to be included in the final data set
(Figures 21 & 22).
Figure 21. Two views of the same piece of data showing a laptop computer
decorated with Cheerios (2013).
Figure 22. Computer screenshot detail showing a nested digital file opened to
reveal two photographs of the same piece of data (2016).
Other times, multiple photo and video documentations of the same event revealed
new or discrete aspects of self-initiated creativity and were therefore included in the final
data set. One example of this is when the students used the classroom whiteboard as part
of their self-initiated creative processes. One piece of data shows how the whiteboard was
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used as a survey instrument and the other as a surface for a large abstract drawing. In
Figure 23, the image on the left side shows how a student used the whiteboard as a survey
instrument asking her classmates to write their name under the letter font design they
liked the best. The image on the right side shows where a student drew a large, patterned,
abstract form over the whole whiteboard. Both pieces of data demonstrate how the
students had ownership of, and access to, the whiteboard. However, each image also
provides discrete pieces of information and therefore both were included in the final data
set. In the image on the left, a student used the whiteboard primarily as a mode of
communication whereas in the image on the right we see the whiteboard primarily used
as a mode of expression.
Figure 23. Left to right: Whiteboard diagram used as a survey instrument.
Whiteboard used as a surface for a large abstract drawing (2013).
Organization and coding of the final data set. The data set was first organized
digitally and labeled according to a creativity category. The type of creative artifact or the
media used to create it determined each creativity category. The creative categories for
this study are:
1. Amphibian & Insect Habitats
2. Cheerios
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3. Classroom Space
4. Dance
5. Doodles on Math Pages
6. Drawing
7. Dyes
8. Food Creations
9. Forts
10. Frozen Creations
11. Glue
12. Head & Hands Accoutrements
13. Masking & Duct Tape Creations
14. Math Class Creations
15. Mixtures & Potions
16. Movies
17. Names
18. Painting
19. Sculpture & 3D Design
20. Sounds & Rhythms
21. String
22. Studio/Supply Area
23. Table Marks
24. Tools
25. Toys & Games
26. Weapons
27. Whiteboards
Within the folders each piece of data was organized by the date of production
followed by a series title and number, and file name extension (.MOV for the QuickTime
digital movie file format or .JPG for the digital image file format). For example, the file
labeled 5.30.13- Model Magic Drawing3.MOV was created on May 30, 2013, is titled
Model Magic Drawing, is the third in the series, and is a movie file.
During the initial coding process I watched a video or looked at a photograph to
see if it contained information that could shed light on the pedagogical effects of an
elementary classroom that allows its students creative agency. Thirteen different themes
emerged from the data, which were then classified into a coding system while a theme
code document was created for each category (Appendix B). Each theme code document
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page contained a header that listed a key for the codes, followed by the title of the
category, the range of three-digit coding numbers of the data within the document and the
number of times each code appears. Next, each piece of data was listed by its three-digit
coding number, series title, and file extension.
The 13 theme codes were selected as I developed a coding system to organize the
data. According to Bogdan & Biklen (2003), the researcher searches through the data for
regularities, patterns, and topics found in the data and then provides “words and phrases”
(p. 161) to represent them. There was evidence of each theme reemerging multiple times
throughout the collection of data, which meant it was an important idea or concept that
could inform the questions put forth in my study on the pedagogical implications of the
self-initiated creativity of elementary school children.
As I looked at the photographs and viewed the video clips I noticed attributes and
features associated with the self-initiated creativity of children. First, there were certain
environmental conditions in place. As their teacher, my documentation of the student
creativity ascribed value to it. By virtue of the students’ teacher showing an interest in
their creative artifacts and processes meant it was deemed important and worthy of
chronicling. Eddie and I also allowed students a great deal of agency within the
classroom. Because of this agency, the data contained examples of students taking
ownership of the classroom space, organizing objects, constructing structures, and freely
expressing themselves within that space.
Furthermore, the data revealed things children do during the creative process such
as adding aesthetic or decorative elements to an existing functional item, using materials
and supplies in ways different from their intended purpose, and creating unique
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fabrications. These creative practices resulted in the formation of original concepts, new
ways of knowing, and innovative creative techniques and methods.
Finally, this open architecture afforded the children opportunities to communicate
freely and find inspiration from each other as well as serendipitous occurrences.
The code key for themes that emerged from the data is as follows:
S: Serendipitous occurrence
I: Inspired by a peer
A: Aesthetic or decorative aspects added to a functional item
V: Valued by a teacher
U: Using materials and supplies in alternate ways
CI: Conceptual ideas
K: New ways of knowing
T: New creative techniques and methods
C: Communication
O: Ownership of the classroom space
St: Student initiated structure and organization
E: Empowerment to creatively express oneself
CF: Creative fabrication
Below is an excerpt from the theme code parent page in the Drawing category
showing the coding process for data code numbers 033 through 046:
DRAWING
Data #033 – 046
Number of instances in which each type of code appears:
V – 14 S -4
I–1
A- 0
U- 6
CI:- 2
K –0
T –7
C –1
O –5
St-1
E- 9
033: 9.24.12-Name tag.JPG
V
C – created name tag on scrap piece of paper
E - created name tag on his own and in his own way
034: 10.2.12- Girl Universe.MOV
V
CI:- created a planet galaxy based on a theme with various planets given names and
shapes that signified themes
035: 10.23.12 - Expressionistic Drawing.JPG
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V
E- heavily expressionistic drawing done by a student who was usually shy about his
perceived lack of artistic talent
036: 3.19.13-Random Scribble drawing in math2.JPG
V
S –while doodling in math class student noticed that she could create a realistic rendering
from abstract scribbles
T – found a new way to generate a drawing
E- felt comfortable enough to generate this type of drawing in math class
A piece of data was selected to be included in the data set for this study if it:
1. provided a new type of code within the full data or a series title
2. provided a new type of evidence for an existing code within the series
As stated above, a piece of data was not selected for inclusion in the data set if a
previously selected piece of data in the same series title provided duplicate evidence of
the same code. However, once a piece of data was chosen, all codes pertaining to that
piece of data were included. This method of data selection insured rigorous and thorough
coding of the raw data without unnecessary redundancies within the final data set.
During the second phase of the coding process a visual record of the data in a
PowerPoint slideshow was created showing each photograph, or a still image from each
video, organized within the 27 creative categories (Appendix A). Bogdan & Biklen
(2003) discuss the “process of data reduction” (p. 174) as part of the mechanics of
working with data where the data may be reformulated and the coding categories
assessed, modified, merged, or even discarded. After reexamining my data and coding
categories, I saw the need to reorganize the original thirteen themes into eight focused,
defined, and more salient attributes. The 253 pieces of data were then reevaluated and
organized as evidence of one of eight fundamental attributes (Appendix C).
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Below is a brief glossary describing each of the eight fundamental attributes
derived from the analysis of the final data set:
Serendipitous Learning
Process as Important as Product
Cross-Pollination
Autonomous Group Learning
Innovative Appropriation &
Adaptation
Creative Transcendence &
Aesthetic Enhancements
Communication, Empowerment
& Self-Advocacy
Conflict Within the Status Quo
Serendipitous learning occurred when students
made unexpected discoveries while following their
own interests.
Student learning was evidenced by their
engagement with the creative process as much as it
was by a final creative product.
Cross-pollination occurred when students learned
from one another as they interacted, asked
questions, offered suggestions, and exchanged
ideas.
Autonomous Group Learning took place as students
spontaneously self-organized and formed working
groups based on common learning interests.
Innovative Appropriation & Adaptation happened
as students creatively appropriated or adapted
objects and materials in new and unexpected ways.
Creative Transcendence & Aesthetic Enhancements
occurred when students created surprising works
that explored new conceptual territories. They often
included aspects of wit and irony that reflected the
aesthetic-conceptual amalgam found in the artworks
of contemporary artists.
Was made evident when students began to
communicate and advocate for themselves to
teachers, their peers, and other adults more
confidently, frequently and effectively. They took
ownership of their creative learning as well as their
learning environment.
Conflict Within the Status Quo happened when the
students’ creative processes and creative artifacts
came into conflict with the practices, expectations,
and traditions of the school at which the research
took place.
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Research Framework and Design
Narrative inquiry and action research. I chose to use narrative and action
research methodologies to study the self-initiated creativity of the children in my
classroom because these approaches provided me with ways to describe, examine,
interpret, and learn from my experiences as a general classroom teacher (Herr &
Anderson, 2005). For the researcher, story telling offers a method of inquiry (Anderson,
Herr & Nihlen, 2007; Bresler, 1993). Composing a narrative gave me the opportunity to
revisit the background leading up to the events that surrounded this study: I could relate
my story as a teacher, make sense of my experiences, and use it as an interpretive frame
to improve my classroom practice (Anderson & Herr, 1999; Bresler, 1993; Bullough &
Pinnegar, 2001). Narrative chronicling also revealed the micropolitics and “hidden
transcripts” (Herr & Anderson, 2005, p. 18) within the research site. Therefore it was
necessary that I situated myself within that context to provide a baseline from which I
could later reassess and re-examine my understandings, perceptions, and biases of what
transpired.
Action research studies often include background statements that describe the
researchers’ pedagogical interests and practices (Cunningham, 2009; Flessner, 2009;
Miller, 1996). Many studies also include portions of the author’s personal histories that
help position them within their research environments. For example, in her dissertation,
Moyra Evans (1995) included autobiographical elements that helped her contextualize
her role as an educator at her research site. In “Admitting Their Worlds: Reflections of a
Teacher/Researcher on the Self-Initiated Art Making of Children,” Vicky Grube (2009)
recalls her childhood desire to escape into the world of drawings and doodles as she
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observed a group of adolescent boys in an after school drawing club retreat into the
imaginary realms of their sketchbooks.
After reviewing an early draft of this manuscript with my dissertation advisor, it
was decided that I should expand my background statement to shed additional light on
how I came to be an educator and the events that led up to this study. Granted, my
account of what occurred at the research site is one that I constructed, and during
subsequent drafts, reconstructed (Bresler, 1993) from my privileged position as a white,
male-identifying teacher. Therefore, my version of the events that transpired during my
time at the research site is merely one story among many (Herr & Anderson, 2005).
Theoretical and conceptual underpinnings. The theories and concepts that this
study draws upon include Csikszentmihalyi’s Systems Theory of Creativity (1997),
Vygotsky’s socio-constructionist theories (1978), Communities of Practice Social Theory
(Wenger, 1998), and Wilson’s (2005) concept of transactional pedagogy. I was interested
in how elements of these theories and concepts reflected my classroom practices of
student agency and student-directed learning, to varying degrees, and the ways in which
these theories offered insight that helped to shape my data collection and subsequent data
analysis.
Systems theory of creativity. My theoretical lens reflects an adaptation of
Csikszentmihalyi’s Systems Theory of Creativity (1997) that consists of the interaction
between the individual, the domain, and the field. In Csikszentmihalyi’s model, the
individual brings a novel idea or product into the domain. The field is a group of experts
who act as gatekeepers to the domain where they evaluate an individual’s novel idea or
product as creative and decide whether or not to allow it into the domain.
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My classroom became a microcosm of Csikszentmihalyi’s model of creative
activity. In our classroom, the students were the individuals and the domain was our
classroom culture collectively generated by the teachers and the students. However, in the
variation practiced within my classroom, the level of student agency generated a field
that, depending on the creative context, could consist of the student collective, groups of
students, and/or each individual student. Therefore, any student’s creative process or
product was automatically recognized as a novel form of creativity to be included in the
domain.
The domain, or our classroom culture, was co-created by the teachers and the
students. This domain privileged student-generated ideas and concepts that were
presented in visually stimulating ways. Protocols and practices were then co-developed
that enabled students to engage in self-initiated creative learning actions. Self-directed
learning and the agency to self-navigate and interact permitted the protocols and practices
of our classroom’s visual culture to continuously be transmitted between individual
students. Students desiring feedback from the classroom community as well as personal
aesthetic stimulation internalized the protocols and practices, which led them to engage in
additional self-initiated creative actions.
The creative agency that existed in our classroom allowed the students to devise
creative processes and products that added new variations to the visual culture of our
classroom. Since the field was constituted as a democratic classroom environment, and
could be made up of the student collective, groups of students, or an individual student,
all creative processes and products became part of the domain.
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Social constructivism. Emphasized in Vygotsky’s socio-constructionist
framework is the idea that knowledge is generated and co-constructed through personal
interactions and social contexts (Koutselini, 2008; Palincsar, 1998). The classroom
community plays an integral role in learning (Korn-Bursztyn, 2002) and helps students
learn more effectively than when they work independently (Gutiérrez, Baquedano-López,
& Turner, 1997). Vygotsky (1978) maintained, “learning awakens a variety of internal
developmental processes that are able to operate only when the child is interacting with
people in his environment and in cooperation with his peers” (p. 90).
In order to examine the self-initiated creativity of our students, it was important
that, we as team teachers, allowed the students to work in groups when they desired to do
so. At the beginning of the school year our students had a role in setting up the classroom
space and adjusted the furnishings within the space to accommodate their learning needs
throughout the remainder of the school year. This practice was done in hopes of giving
the children a sense of ownership of their learning environment and providing for those
students who desired to engage in collaborative creative investigations. We made time
and space available for the children to take advantage of the opportunities to use our
classroom community as a democratic learning hub (Korn-Bursztyn, 2002). In this hub,
teachers and students learned from one another. (Gutiérrez, Baquedano-López, & Turner,
1997).
Communities of practice. According to Pitri (2006), a socio-constructivist
approach allows children to become empowered as they negotiate and construct their
learning though encounters with peers and the environment. Similarly, the concept of
communities of practice (Wenger, 1998) suggests children take an active role in their
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learning (Corsaro, 1992). Lave and Wegner (1991) used the term community of practice
to describe they ways in which individuals who have a shared interest come together to
learn from one another. In a community of practice, novices or newcomers watch and
learn about a specific type of domain from experts in that domain. Through gradual
participation within the domain, novices eventually become experts themselves.
In our classroom the students did not engage in learning through a single,
hierarchical community of practice as suggested by Lave and Wegner, but through
multiple communities as reimagined by McLellan (1996). Conceived as fluid constructs,
students were allowed to create permanent or interim communities of practice, which
they could enter and exit at will, according to their needs, interests, and desires. In this
model, students enjoyed a more liberating and empowering schooling experience while
still reaping the learning benefits afforded by a community of practice (McLellan, 1996).
According to Au (2002), a community of learning develops its own routines,
rituals, artifacts and stories. During this study, our classroom functioned as a specific type
of community of practice that contained a multiplex of micro-communities. Over the
course of the school year, the children and teachers co-created a set of routines and rituals
that permitted the unrestricted production of self-initiated creative artifacts and our own
classroom story. In some ways our classroom could also be considered a “countercultural community of practice” (Duncan-Andrade & Morrell, 2008, p. 11) as we
recognized the dominant set of institutional norms and practices in our school but then
created a classroom community that in many ways countered the norms and practices.
Either way, our classroom community of practice provided a space in which I was
able to develop personally and professionally as an artist, researcher, and teacher. As an
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artist, I was inspired by and took an interest in my students’ self-initiated creative
artifacts; as a researcher, I photographed and later analyzed the artifacts; and as a teacher,
I reflected on the experience to see how it might inform my pedagogical practice.
Transactional pedagogy. In his research literature on creativity, Brent Wilson
talks about three primary visual cultural sites. The first pedagogical site is located outside
of the classroom where children “construct their own visual cultural texts” (Wilson, 2005,
p. 18) and consume those made by others. The second pedagogical site is inside
classrooms where the teacher directs the learning and the third pedagogical site is where a
“transactional pedagogy” (p. 19) takes place and the visual cultural interests of teachers
and students are equally valued and honored.
James Rolling engages with Wilson’s theories of cultural sites in his article, “Sites
of Contention and Critical Thinking in the Elementary Art Classroom: A Political
Cartooning Project.” James Rolling (2008) asks, “How does the young learner exercise
agency if the reigning conception of children does not afford opportunities for them to
demonstrate their agency in schooling practices?” (p. 9). In response to the query, Rolling
(2008) looks to Wilson’s third pedagogical site where teachers and students act as
“partners in pedagogy” (p. 9).
Wilson’s third pedagogical site reflects how the field in our classroom community
acted as gatekeepers to the domain, but where all members had the ability to open the
gate. Wilson envisioned situations in which all members of an educational environment
may present their visual cultural artifacts for others to interpret and critique. What
happened in our classroom during this study operationalized Wilson’s third site.
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Data collection within the theoretical frameworks and practices.
Csikszentmihalyi’s Systems Theory of Creativity (1997), Vygotsky’s socioconstructionist theories (1978), Lave and Wenger’s communities of practice (1998), and
Wilson’s (2005) concept of transactional pedagogy set the stage for collecting data on the
self-initiated creativity of children in a general classroom environment and the
subsequent analysis of that data to determine the ways in which children go about the
learning process and navigating a classroom space. These theories and concepts also
helped to illuminate what it means to facilitate self-initiated creativity within the
everyday constraints of a schooling environment.
Our classroom practices that reflected aspects of the above theories and concepts
removed many of the obstructions that normally hinder, discourage, or dismiss selfinitiated creative actions to occur in an elementary classroom environment. For example,
Wilson (2004) contends that the art of children is a “cultural construction” (p. 299) and
“manifestations of various forms of cultural influence” (p. 300). These creative
manifestations emerge from a multiplicity of visual cultural sources inside and outside
the school environment. Inside the classroom the main sources emerge from teacherdirected instruction and other children. Teachers usually take notice of children’s artwork
when it reflects the aesthetic styling of prominent adult artists within that culture.
However, according to Wilson (2004), the most common forms of influence of children’s
pictorial images are the graphic devices appropriated from other children. Furthermore,
children must first willingly accept any cultural influence before it is internalized and
then demonstrated within their own creative activities. Therefore, the self-initiated
creative actions and activities of children are an amalgamation of elements within the
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visual cultural environments that they choose to appropriate. The visual cultural
amalgamation particular to our students eventuated in our classroom because they were
given permission to freely engage in self-initiated creative endeavors and curate the
classroom space with the visual aftereffects.
Lave and Wegner (1991) claim that knowledge among peers “spreads exceedingly
rapidly and effectively” (p. 93). Knowledge acquisition is not an individual pursuit made
independently of contextual influences; rather, knowledge is acquired by interacting
within a community of one’s peers (McLellan, 1996). Our classroom contained a network
of student and teacher generated communities of practice where each student had the
freedom to develop their creative learning explorations as needed by taking advantage of
a host of micro-communities of practice.
Our classroom practices enabled the students to engage in and share an abundance
of self-initiated creative products and productions, which I would then document. Over
the years this aesthetic license established a classroom environment where the children’s
self-initiated creativity became a common classroom feature. These classroom practices
led the Institutional Review Board to designate this research study as exempt from IRB
review since it was research conducted in an established educational setting that involved
the collection of existing data. However, my professional practice of regularly
documenting the creative actions of my students influenced the ways my students
engaged in creativity and subsequently, the data that was eventually used in this study.
Trustworthiness and Validity
Researchers use a variety of criteria to denote the validity of a particular study.
Guba’s (1981) term trustworthiness has become the standard designation for “judging the
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quality of action research” (Hinchey, 2008, p. 35). Guba suggested that the
“trustworthiness of qualitative inquiry could be established by addressing the following
characteristics of a study: credibility, transferability, dependability, and confirmability”
(Mills, 2000, p. 73, italics in original). There are different ways researchers may
demonstrate each characteristic.
Following Guba’s suggestions, credibility in this study was established in a
variety of ways. As a researcher who was also one of the classroom teachers at the study
site, I was “immersed in the setting” (Mills, 2000, p. 73). This immersion benefitted me
as a researcher because I could observe the participants for prolonged periods of time. As
their classroom teacher, I developed a rapport and built trust on a daily basis. This
immersion also gave my students time to become acclimated to my method of data
collection. Additionally, over the course of a full school year and during the subsequent
drafting of this study, I conferred with colleagues to help establish the context and culture
of the research site. Finally, because I worked closely with a teaching partner I engaged
in daily debriefing sessions to reflect, discuss student needs, and plan future lessons and
activities.
According to Creswell (1998), detailed descriptions of the participants and
research site “enables readers to transfer information to other settings” (p. 203).
Transferability was established in this study as I provided detailed descriptions of each
piece of data and the ways in which the data was collected. I also included historical and
contemporary portrayals of the research site, faculty members, and student body
permitting comparisons to “other possible contexts” (Mills, 2000, p. 74).
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Lincoln and Guba (1985) suggest that researchers conduct an inquiry audit as a
technique to demonstrate dependability. My teaching partner Eddie and fifth grade
teacher Leah, took on the role of auditors for this study as we witnessed the data
collection, read through portions of the report, helped to determine the accuracy of my
findings, and offered feedback throughout the process.
According to Denzin and Lincoln (1998), “the use of multiple methods, or
triangulation, reflects an attempt to secure an in-depth understanding of the phenomenon
in question” (p. 4). For this study, data was collected using a variety of methodologies
including photography, videography, first person, and textual accounts to assure
dependability and confirmability. The data was then triangulated through comparisons
and verifications.
Generalizability
In research studies, generalizability is considered to be a “process of theory
formulation for further applications” (Mayring, 2007, p. 1). But the value of
generalization in qualitative research has been debated. Critics such as Lincoln and Guba
argue that all phenomena are context and time dependent, refuting the positivist version
of generalizations as “truth statements free from both time and context” (1985, p. 38).
According to Myers (2000), qualitative studies cannot be generalized in the traditional
sense by producing findings that can be applied from a group of participants in a single
study to a wider population. Schofield (2000) added that, “one cannot just look at a study
and say that it is similar or dissimilar to another situation of concern…one must ask what
aspects of the situation are similar or different and to what aspects of the findings these
are connected” (p. 88). Applying Schofield’s logic to a single classroom within a private
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school setting, the main line of inquiry focusing on the aspects of student agency and
creative learning offer insights that have relevance in a variety of elementary educational
settings, although this study pertains to the self-initiated creativity of children with a
particular group of students.
The stories chronicled in this study provide valuable insights to teachers who are
interested in exploring student agency and creative modes of learning in their own
classrooms. This study offers advice to teachers who are invested in democratic forms of
education but still have the obligation to find ways to manage their classrooms in
accordance with a school system and achieve the curricular learning goals of the school.
In the majority of schooling environments, teacher-directed approaches are commonly
found to be the answer to issues that arise regarding classroom management and the
delivery of academic content. Although the amount of student agency varies in different
classroom management techniques, most contain frameworks and protocols designed to
pilot student movement and direct student actions within a classroom space. It is easier to
“control” a group of students when their level of autonomy is allocated, regulated, and
monitored by the teacher.
The findings in this study reveal how children go about their creative learning
when offered agency and the types of classroom practices that support self-initiated
creative learning. The implications and degree of transferability of these practices to
other classroom contexts is dependent on a host of factors and variables. Nevertheless,
this study provides a basic pedagogical framework that may be customized, modified,
tailored, or adapted to fit many, if not all, elementary classroom contexts.
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Limitations and Delimitations
This study included limitations and delimitations stemming from the
demographics of the student body and the design of the study. Out of the 54 students in
the fourth and fifth grade, 44 had parents who were medical doctors, lawyers, professors,
professionals, or owned successful family businesses. Some of the fourth and fifth grade
students were enrolled in our school because they had difficulty assimilating to the
expectations of their local public school classrooms. For others, their parents enrolled
them because they wanted their children to attend what they believed was the best college
preparatory school in the area. During the 2012-2013 school year, all of the students in
the fourth and fifth grade had parents who to some extent helped with homework,
attended parent-teacher conferences, and advocated for their child’s particular learning
needs. All the children in this study had some degree of parental support that helped them
navigate the schooling environment and for many, established a position of privilege in
the greater community as well. Therefore, this study was limited in that it examined the
self-initiated creative processes, actions, and artifacts of a distinct type of student
participant within a privileged sociocultural context.
The design of the study was framed by my dual roles as teacher and researcher.
Data collection was restricted by my teaching responsibilities because they limited the
amount of time I could spend documenting the self-initiated creative actions of my
students. Being the sole researcher meant that I could only observe one creative activity
at a time even if multiple instances were happening at the same time. Furthermore, this
study only included the self-initiated creativity that I witnessed firsthand. Although I
documented over a thousand instances of self-initiated creativity, many more went
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unnoticed because I was not there to witness their creation. For example, there were times
when my students engaged in self-initiated creativity to in other classrooms, as they
moved throughout the hallways, or while waiting in the bus line and parent pick-up area
at the end of the school day.
Summary
During the 2012-2013 school year, I documented the self-initiated creativity of
my fourth and fifth grade students in a private day school in upstate New York. An action
research methodology allowed me to operate as both teacher and researcher in order to
study acts of student artistry and agency in my own classroom. Studying my own
classroom gave me an “insider perspective” (Sullivan, 1996, p. 220) yet at the same time
I had to be cognizant of the personal biases and subjectivities that accompanying all
forms of self-study.
Each day I used an iPhone to videotape and photograph my students’ self-initiated
creative engagements. However, allowing my students the agency to openly engage in
self-initiated forms of art making activities was in direct contrast to many of the traditions
and conventional practices of the school, which led to a number of unintended
philosophical conflicts with members of the faculty and administration.
By the end of the school year I had amassed 1038 pieces of raw data in the form
of photographs and video clips in addition to hundreds of pages of email communiqués to
help me form the narrative of my experience. After an initial analysis, 253 pieces of data
were determined to be self-initiated according to the definition set forth in this study.
Each piece of data was then organized into one of 27 categories based upon the type of
artifact or the medium used to create it. After examining each piece of data, similarities
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and patterns emerged resulting in 13 theme codes. Upon further analysis (described in the
upcoming Analysis chapter) the 13 theme codes were reorganized into 8 fundamental
attributes regarding the self-initiated creativity of children.
To establish validity, Guba’s strategies for ensuring trustworthiness were included
as part of the methodology for this dissertation.
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CHAPTER 4 - Findings
Introduction
During this study I assumed the dual role of classroom teacher and researcher. As
a researcher I took photographic and video evidence of my students engaging in selfinitiated creative activities and the resulting artifacts. Allowing my students creative
agency in our general classroom environment and giving attention to their creative
processes and products led to an implicit valuing of these activities. In turn, there was an
increased production of creative artifacts and engagement with the creative process.
Over the course of the 2012-2013 school year my students produced a wide array
of creative artifacts, 253 of which were classified as self-initiated according to the
definition used in this study. They were then photographed or videotaped and organized
into 27 different creative categories (see Appendix A):
•
Habitats for Amphibians and Insects
•
Cheerios
•
Classroom space
•
Dance
•
Doodling on Math Pages
•
Drawing
•
Dyes
•
Food Creations
•
Forts and Spaces
•
Frozen Creations
•
Glue
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•
Head and Hand Accoutrements
•
Masking and Duct Tape Creations
•
Math Class Creations
•
Mixtures and Potions
•
Movies
•
Names
•
Painting
•
Sculpture and 3D Design
•
Sounds and Rhythms
•
String
•
Studio/Supply Area
•
Table Marks
•
Tools
•
Toys and Games
•
Weapons
•
Whiteboard
What follows is a description of each piece of data found in each of the creative
categories. All student names mentioned are pseudonyms.
Habitats for Amphibians and Insects
It was a warm, sunny, Friday afternoon in the first week of September. We had
just finished lunch and taken the fourth and fifth graders out for recess. The previous
Wednesday was the first day of school and the children were running about, becoming
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reacquainted with old friends, and starting the process of making new friends. I noticed a
few children watching Walter as he squatted in a dry patch of dusty earth carefully
placing a handful of small stones in the shape of a tiny circle. Walter could usually be
found making drawings and small constructions out of cardboard or paper. He enjoyed
sharing his creations: holding them in the palm of his hand, dark bangs covering his eyes,
his lisp at times making it difficult to discern his words. When I asked him what he was
doing, he told me he was creating a cemetery for a spider. As the other children were
running and playing, he was closely examining a small patch of ground to observe the
activities of insects in their natural environments and noticed a dead spider. He decided to
create an insect cemetery and gathered a handful of small rocks to serve as tombstones.
After this event, the self-initiated creative activity of my students involving
amphibians and insects did not take place again until seven months later.
Figure 24. Data images 001 and 002. Walter using pebbles to create an insect cemetery.
(2012)
Following a long winter of sledding and snowshoeing, spring had arrived and our
recess time was once again devoted to exploring nature. I noticed a group of fourth grade
girls turning over rocks that bordered a tree line at the edge of our campus. Every so often
one would let out a squeal of delight. Curious to know what they were doing, I shouted to
them across the field of patchy turf that made up our playground area. They huddled for a
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moment and then ran toward me, the one in the lead cupping something in her hands. In a
small soup bowl purloined from the dining hall were three Red-backed salamanders. I
asked them how they started collecting salamanders. “We were looking for Roly polys
(Armadillidiidae) and found salamanders so we kept on looking for salamanders because
there’s so many of them” (personal communication April 19, 2013).
Figure 25. Data image 003. Red-backed salamanders. (2013)
Looking for insects and amphibians turned into a daily recess activity for many of
the children. In May a group of fifth grade girls began collecting inchworms. This began
after two of the girls, Tammy and Gloria, happened to find an inchworm on the underside
of a leaf in a bed of Hyacinths that ran along one of the walkways. A third fifth grade girl
named Stephanie expressed to me her plans, “they were so cool I wanted to do a project
on them” (personal communication May 9, 2013).
Figure 26. Data image 004. Student gathers items for an inchworm habitat. (2013).
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Instead of simply keeping their inchworms in bowls as the fourth grade girls had
done with their salamanders, the fifth grade girls created extravagant habitats taking
plastic containers and bins from our science supply cabinet. They decorated the insides
with sticks, leaves, blades of grass, mulch and flower petals taken from flowerbeds
around the school campus. They gave names to their inchworms such as Conway and
Roxy and used Sharpie markers to write the names in bold block letters on the sides of
the containers. Some names were cute while others were humorous. Stephanie named her
inchworm Conway, while her friend Nadine named her inchworm Hopper because “it’s
the opposite of his personality. He’s so lazy” (personal communication May 10, 2013).
Figure 27. Data images 005 and 008. Inchworm habitats decorated with petals. (2013)
Stephanie even mixed paint with Elmer’s glue and used an eyedropper to write, Conway,
the name of her inchworm on a piece of wax paper to use as a cover for the habitat she
made.
Figure 28. Data image 009. Name of inchworm written in glue mixed with paint. (2013)
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Some plants and flowers in the habitats such as Bleeding Hearts (Lamprocapnos)
were used for decoration while others were included as a food source. When I asked the
students how they determined which plants were good for food they said they knew
which plants the inchworms ate “because there’s always holes in the plants” (personal
communication May 10, 2013).
After noticing the inchworm habitats lining the windowsill of our classroom, the
fourth grade girls who were collecting salamanders also decided to use containers and
bins from our science supply cabinet to create habitats for their salamanders. The
salamander habitats appeared more utilitarian than the highly decorative inchworm
habitats. Inside the salamander habitats were placed items such as mulch, twigs, moss,
pond water, soil, rocks, leaves, ants, grasses and dandelions. The children displayed them
in the classroom on a side table with signs containing the owner’s names, the names
given to their salamanders (Rocky, Mary and Tyler) and the warning, Do Not Touch!
Figure 29. Data image 010. Utilitarian salamander habitats. (2013)
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The girls told me they went online to research how to identify pregnant
salamanders and found out how to tell the difference between male and female
salamanders. They said the pond water (collected from a small canal that ran through our
campus) and moss provided a place for the salamanders to lay their eggs, the rocks
offered shade, and the ants were a food source.
Figure 30. Data images 011 and 016. Salamander habitats with moss, pond water, and
rocks. (2013)
The salamander habitat projects continued throughout the month of May. Some of
the children decided to use their salamander observations as part of a science experiment
while others began to form partnerships to share in the construction and care of additional
habitats.
Figure 31. Data image 013. Salamander experiment. (2013)
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Libby was a loner. Even in a school such as ours that attracted its share of
outliers, Libby stood out in this respect. I believe part of the reason was that Libby was
constantly working on a drawing, painting, or sculptural object that left little time for
developing relationships with her peers. She readily shared her creations with anyone
who inquired, but she also seemed content to remain absorbed in her creative world.
Transition times were especially challenging for Libby. Often, Eddie and I would hear
reports from her other teachers that Libby had a meltdown when asked to transition from
one activity to the next such as cleaning up her area in the art room and going to music
class. This happened in our classroom as well. Since Eddie and I team taught, while one
of us escorted the rest of the children to their next class, the other could ease the
transition for Libby by first having a brief conversation about her newest creation and
then establishing a place in the classroom where her ongoing creations could be safely
stored until she returned. Libby’s unique personality was reflected in her creative choices.
Watching the other children search for salamanders and inchworms prompted her to
search for small critters as well. When I looked to see what she had found, I was
surprised to see a small worm wriggling in the palm of her hand. She explained it to me
this way, “I was trying to find a slug. I found some slug-like things but I also found
Wiggles. I’m going to make a habitat for him because he’s adorable” (personal
communication May 23, 2013).
Figure 32. Data image 015. Wiggles the worm. (2013)
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Cheerios
During the 2012-2013 school year Eddie and I decided to give the students a
designated snack time each day. The back door to our classroom exited directly to the
playground and in good weather we would allow the children to have an outside break
while eating their snacks. Because of dietary restrictions and food allergy concerns the
school asked that we limit the snack options. We were able to get dry cereals such as
Cheerios and granola from the dining hall and also fruits such as apples, bananas and
oranges when available. At the beginning of the year I set up one of our folding tables by
the back door where the students lined up to get their snack before going outside. Paper
cups were used to scoop the cereal out of large plastic bulk-pack bags. Most students
would eat the cereal by picking out pieces with their hands or pouring it from the cups
directly into their mouths. A few students found creative ways to eat their snacks and also
use them as a creative device.
A first, I did not think that Cooper was a child who liked to create. His powerful
build, Mohawk haircut, and athletic prowess belied his penchant for artistic endeavors.
During one of our snack breaks in early October, I watched as Cooper took a straw from
our science supply cabinet and began to carefully string the Cheerios, one by one, over
the straw. Thirty seconds ticked by as Cooper steadily and silently added Cheerios to the
straw. Unable to resist I asked, “So, what are you doing?” Without missing beat he
replied, “Making a Cheerio Kabob.” I followed up with, “Are you going to eat them or is
it a design?” Before I could finish the last word of my question he said, “Yes, I’m going
to eat them.” He then slid on the final Cheerio, turned and walked away.
A few weeks later during our snack break I saw a group of students, cups of
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Cheerios and granola in hand, gathered around a fourth grade girl named Brenda,
shouting something about a unicorn. When I approached, the children giggled and told
Brenda to show me her unicorn trick. She responded that she was not a unicorn but that
she had made a Cheerio Stick Hat. Brenda found a stick with a hooked end and placed it
in her hair so that the hooked end protruded roughly six inches from her forehead. When
I asked her to show me how it worked she bent her head forward putting the end of the
stick into the cup to hook a single Cheerio. She then titled her head back up, took the
Cheerio off of the stick, a popped it into her mouth.
Figure 33. Data images 017 and 018. Cheerio Kabob and Cheerio Stick Hat. (2012)
Our Snack Time gradually increased in length. By January it had become a 20
minute break where students could choose to do a variety of activities including using the
classroom laptops, trying out routes on our indoor climbing wall, playing educational
games on their personal digital devices, making artwork, or finishing up schoolwork. One
student in particular, Tate, seldom ate a snack but instead used his cup of Cheerios as a
creative medium. He would spell his name in large block letters by carefully gluing lines
of Cheerios onto sheets of bright construction paper. This prompted a second student to
make a human figure out of Cheerios while a third simply colored a single Cheerio with a
marker creating a tiny, magenta, minimalist artifact.
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Figure 34. Data images 019, 020, and 022. Name spelled with Cheerios, Magenta
colored Cheerio and Cheerio figure. (2013)
Using Cheerios as a creative medium during snack time became increasingly
popular among our students. One day in late February I walked back into the classroom
after our snack break to find the children sitting at their tables and watching me intently. I
sensed they were up to something as I walked to a cart in the back of the room to retrieve
my laptop. When I got there, the classroom erupted with laughter. The children had
decorated my laptop by placing Cheerios on the keyboard and track pad.
Figure 35. Data image 021. Computer decorated with Cheerios. (2013)
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Classroom Space
Our classroom operated as a democratic environment where children were
empowered through agency, self-governance and ownership of the learning space.
Throughout the year the students had opportunities for choice in how they went about
their daily learning. In January, a student decided to create a personal learning space in
one corner of the room by propping up a climbing wall crash pad against an AV cart. In
this space he worked on his math by taping a multiplication chart to the crash pad and
using the lower shelf of the AV cart as a writing surface. A few days later, three girls
approached me, and having completed their scheduled work for the day, asked if they
could paint a bookcase. I approved of their idea and suggested that they first remove the
books and shelves, put down a drop cloth and then use paint rollers and large 5-inch
commercial brushes to apply the paint.
Figure 36. Data images 023 and 024. Personal learning space and bookcase painting
project. (2013)
As the year progressed, so did the choices afforded to the students in how they
went about their learning. Eventually students were allowed to generate personalized
learning plans. At times our classroom became an “energized cooperative working
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paradigm” (Rufo, 2013a, p. 149), which Eddie and I referred to as the buzz. During a
buzz students could be found working on a wide variety of projects and activities at the
same time.
In late February students worked in small groups or alone restructuring the
classroom space according to their needs. One morning was spent by a group of four boys
working on the classroom stage to create a series of fitness challenges for themselves.
They stood on benches to hang a poster they made containing the fitness plan exercises
so they could see it while exercising. Another group of students set up laptops on tables
set along one wall to work on their math skills using the Khan Academy website. One
student moved about the room organizing supplies and using a Shop-Vac to clean the
floor while two others stood at a center table observing the movements of a hamster for
their science experiment. A group of boys and girls set up a private rehearsal space by
propping up two large climbing wall crash pads in one corner of the room. Here they
worked on a scene from Hamlet. In the back of the room a group of three girls decided to
choreograph a dance routine. In the front of the room, two students sat on the floor with a
ream of paper and rolls of masking tape constructing towers and other three-dimensional
structures.
Figure 37. Data image 025. Students use crash pads for a private rehearsal space. (2013)
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Figure 38. Video still. Students create a fitness challenge on the stage, vacuum floor, and
work on Khan Academy. (2013)
Mornings provided additional time for our students to have agency in how they
navigated and interacted with the classroom space. As a private school, some of our
students arrived on buses from various school districts while parents and caregivers
dropped off other students on their way to work. Although our day was scheduled to
begin at 8:00 a.m., most of the children generally arrived anywhere between 8:00 a.m.
and 8:15 a.m.. We felt our students needed time in the morning to transition to their
school environment and so we allowed them to spend the first twenty minutes of the day
mingling and catching up with friends before they left for Physical Education at 8:15.
One morning in late May students gathered around our large butcher-block style
tables in center of the classroom playing a game they created. Others organized our
classroom computers, drew and wrote messages on the whiteboard in front of the
classroom and worked on a project in the back of the classroom.
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Figure 39. Video still. During Morning Mingle students draw on the whiteboard, create a
tabletop game, and work on a project. (2013)
Figure 40. Data image 026. Close up of student drawing on the whiteboard. (2013)
Dance
Being able to transition quickly and quietly from one classroom to another was
considered an important skill in our Lower School. As previously mentioned, Libby had
difficulty during transition times. While the other students gathered their belongings and
were exiting the classroom, she would usually be found in a corner of the room involved
in some type of creative activity. One day in late February as students were cleaning up
and organizing their materials getting ready to transition, Libby found two sticks with
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caution tape tied to the ends that another student had made during recess and brought into
the classroom. She picked up the sticks and performed a ribbon dance.
Figure 41. Libby doing a ribbon dance. (2013)
Doodles on Math Pages
While sitting next to each other during math class, I noticed Walter and Tate
drawing doodles along the margins of Tate’s math packet. I walked up to them and asked,
“What’s going on here?” Walter tapped the eraser end of his pencil on the images as he
identified each one, “Well, that’s a baby, ghost, evil dude. Tate drew that guy who’s
going ‘what the heck,’ car, worm, light bulb” (personal communication January 17,
2013).
Figure 42. Data image 028. Walter and Tate’s doodles. (2013)
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Math class was a time when even the more reticent children engaged in selfinitiated creativity. When they first entered our classroom as fourth graders, Hannah,
Jodie, Nolan and Natasha were shy and timid. Hannah’s mother told me that Hannah was
bright and capable, but seldom put forth her best effort. This was Jodie’s first year at our
school and her personnel file indicated that she became withdrawn after having a difficult
experience at a local public school. Nolan and Natasha’s third grade teachers informed us
that they both struggled academically and would often “check out” when it came time to
do class work.
Early on, Eddie and I noticed that all four children had a sense of humor. When
we would tell a joke or share a humorous anecdote they would quietly chuckle and try to
hide their amusement by covering their faces with cupped hands or a sheet of paper. All
four children were also artistic and enjoyed drawing cartoon characters. Eddie and I
thought the best approach to helping these students would be to first build their selfconfidence. One technique we used was acknowledging their artistic talents by entering
into conversations about their creations. By October they started to become more
outgoing and by December they voluntarily shared their drawings, which were usually
accompanied by witticisms and amusing anecdotes.
Eddie and I could see their increasing self-confidence in the self-initiated
drawings they made on their math papers and homework assignments. One day in math
class Jodie drew a humorous cartoon on a math page of long division problems. On the
left panel she wrote “Miss Hunters Candy Shop” and “Children are not welcome.” On the
right panel she wrote, “I hate children!”
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Figure 43. Data image 029. Jodie’s cartoon on a math page of long division problems.
(2013)
Hannah created a series of tiny illustrations with captions on a homework page
containing division problems. Interspersed were additional drawings: a small and large
flower with the words “before” and “after”, tiny grid structure titled, “mini-COMIC” with
the words, “Cow-Boy Guy” in the last panel. She drew decorative dots, lines, stars,
moons and flowers. She wrote, “C.O.O.L. is bad” with a double arrow connecting it to
the next problem under which are written the words, “Awsome [sic] is good!” At the
bottom of the paper she drew a cloud shape with the word “Messy” written inside. I
found out later that C.O.O.L was an acronym for Constipated Overrated Out-of-style
Loser.
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Figure 44. Data image 030. Hannah’s doodles on her math homework. (2013)
Nolan created a drawing of six small stick figures contained within a stepped
structure and Natasha used a Common Factor practice sheet to create fingerprints. She
drew a series of stars at the top of the page and a stick figure with horns on the bottom
right with a head filled in with deep blue marker ink. To the right of the figure’s head was
an arrow with the words, “insert thumb here if you want to make this.” A line went from
the word “this” to encircle one of seven thumbprints dotting the page.
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Figure 45. Data images 031 and 032. Doodles on math pages by Nolan and Natasha.
(2013)
Drawing
Harlan was another student who was new to our school and coming off a difficult
public school experience. Harlan was very bright, but very resistant to doing traditional
schoolwork such as reading and writing. Harlan always had some type of side project in
the works. Whatever activity was happening in the classroom, Harlan would also be
dismantling a small gadget he brought in from home, fabricating a toy from detritus he
picked up around the room, or working on a drawing. In late September I saw him create
a nametag on a piece of torn scrap paper. He used a yellow highlighter to write his first
and last name and then a black Sharpie marker to color in the background.
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Figure 46. Data image 033. Harlan’s nametag. (2012)
In early October Libby created a drawing titled, Girl Universe. Various planets
and stars we colored in with the names, Alien, Moon, Flower, Champion Planet, Old
Fashioned, The Star, Ballet Planet, S.Q.U.A.R.E. and Disco Hip Hop Rock and Roll Cool
Lilly described her drawing this way:
“This is Girl Universe. There’s a planet for boys, Planet Boy, and there are black
holes to go to other universes. There’s Planet Flower; it’s all about gardening.
There’s Alien and Moon too and this is Champion Planet over here [where]
everyone wins! [On Alien Planet] it’s just like Earth but everything’s opposite.
And there’s Old Fashioned where everything is like black and white. There’s The
Star, which is like the sun. Disco Hip Hop Rock and Roll Cool it’s just all about
dance. S.Q.U.A.R.E. is actually just like Minecraft and there’s Ballet Planet; it’s
just ballet” (personal communication October 2, 2012).
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Figure 47. Data image 034. Libby’s Girl Universe drawing. (2012)
In our class we had a number of students who liked to create but did not like
going to art class. Usually it was the children who had attended our school since Pre-K or
Kindergarten who made this complaint. They criticized the activities as repetitive, the
teacher demonstrations as too time consuming, and the fact that they were never allowed
to come up with their own projects. This led some of the students to self-identify as being
non-artistic. Meanwhile, in our classroom three of the students who fell into this category
created a variety of artworks. One boy made a highly energetic and expressionistic
drawing of figures he named Bill, Josh, and Bob. During a snack break a fifth grade girl
named Lydia, showed me how she came up with pictures by first scribbling on a page
and then looking for images within the scribbles to develop into realistic renderings. In
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one drawing she identified a penguin, frog, hummingbird and snake. A few days later a
fourth grade girl named Nicole, created an abstract drawing on a piece of cardboard she
found in the garbage.
Figure 48. Data images 035, 036, and 037. Expressionistic drawing, random scribble
drawing, and abstract drawing. (2012-2013)
A week later, Lydia taped together nine sheets of copy paper and drew a large
geometric figure she called Triangles of Snow. She then asked that it be hung on the
ceiling.
Figure 49. Data image 038. Triangles of Snow drawing hanging on the ceiling. (2013)
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In late May, Libby who had made a habitat for her worm Wiggles, choreographed
an impromptu ribbon dance, and created the Girl Universe drawing, kept coming up to
me in math class and asking for tissues. She had a head cold and was going through our
supply rather quickly. Since Eddie was leading the class I was able to go to the nurse’s
office and gather an armful of boxes to replenish our supply. When I returned I placed a
box next to Libby and joined in for the remainder of the lesson. A few minutes later
Libby came over to me and whispered that she could not find any of our Sharpie markers.
I asked her why she needed a Sharpie marker and she told me that she wanted to draw
something on one of the tissues. I told her that a Sharpie marker would immediately bleed
through a tissue and that she should use a sheet of copy paper. She began to argue that it
had to be on a tissue. Sensing that she would not be persuaded, I gave her a Sharpie
marker from my personal supply.
At the end of class after the students had left for an encore class I went around the
room picking up items that some of the students left behind. At Libby’s seat I noticed a
drawing of a large black heart in the center of a tissue.
Figure 50. Data image 040. Libby’s heart drawing on a tissue. (2013)
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Ally was the daughter of Leeann, our new Lower School head. The same day
Libby made her heart drawing I observed Ally using Model Magic (a non-toxic modeling
material sold by Crayola) to create marks on a sheet of loose-leaf paper. While Eddie was
leading the class through a series of long division problems, Ally kneaded a golf-ball
sized, black lump of Model Magic compound into various shapes and pressed the form
onto the paper. She then peeled back the Model Magic leaving light charcoal gray marks
where the compound had been. She continued this process until the sheet was covered
with a string of looping blotches and stains, lifting her head now and then to see what
Eddie had written on the whiteboard. The next day Ally placed strips of masking tape
across sheets of white construction paper before applying the Model Magic. When
finished creating marks with Model Magic she pealed off the strips of masking tape to
reveal straight white lines cutting through the background imagery.
Figure 51. Data images 039 and 041. Ally’s Model Magic drawing on notebook paper
and using masking tape to create stripes on copy paper. (2013)
The following day was raining and so we had recess indoors. The class voted on
watching a movie. As the children were arranging chairs to sit on and climbing wall crash
pads to lie on, Ally set up a temporary art studio space on one of our classroom tables.
She placed a plastic container of water nearby so she could dip the Model Magic in the
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water, knead it, and use different techniques to create a variety of marks. She pressed it
into the paper, lightly dropped it on the surface of the paper, and squeezed it hard enough
so that wet sludgy streams ran out between her fingers and onto the paper. These
techniques yielded a series of 22 images ranging from light dusky gray impressions to
heavy, dark, liquid compositions.
Figure 52. Data images 042 and 043. Ally’s Model Magic drawing studio and
one of her drawings showing the effects of her Model Magic and water technique.
Later that day Ally gave me a tour of her studio and described her working
process. She told me that she started using the water to extend the life of the Model
Magic as it began to dry out. She then tried to make a splatter effect by throwing a wet
ball of Model Magic at the paper but instead it caused the compound to stick to the paper
and leave a dark impression. She accidently stumbled upon a technique that created deep
black tendrils of meandering loops and blotches when she mixed too much water into the
Model Magic and held it over a piece of paper so that it would not drip onto the floor.
When other girls became interested in what she was doing she got a long roll of paper to
allow multiple students to work at the same time and create a large picture using her
techniques.
I worried about what Leeann would think of the fact that I allowed her daughter to
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create whenever she was in our classroom, Ally produced a prodigious amount of
creative work and it seemed as though something inside compelled her to make artwork.
Earlier in the year, Ally’s mother told me Ally had a learning disability and difficulty
focusing. Because of this, I tried to have Ally engage in her academic work separate from
her creative work. However, this approach just made Ally become frustrated and want to
shut down. I decided that Ally needed to create, so I did my best to conceal the fact that
she was making creative work during Math class or STEAM. However, it was the final
week of school by the time that she was making her Model Magic drawings so I allowed
her to take this activity as far as she wanted whenever she wanted.
Dyes
In early February, Ally took a handful of small plastic vials from our science
supply cabinet, filled four of them with water and added drops of food coloring and
pinches of glitter. A few days later she took more vials to incorporate into a science
experiment involving reflection and refraction. This time she added glue, twine, copper
wire, foil, scrapes of masking tape, the bulb of an eyedropper and a rubber pencil grip to
the water and food coloring in the vials. Ally continued her experiments and observations
throughout the month of February doing things such as placing her food coloring and
water mixtures in our classroom mini-fridge and collecting dried paint fragments in a test
tube.
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Figure 53. Data images 047, 048, 049, and 050. Ally’s vial experiments clockwise
from top left: Food coloring with glitter. Food coloring with glue, twine, copper wire,
foil, scrapes of masking tape, the bulb of an eyedropper and a rubber pencil grip. Frozen
food coloring and water mixture. Dried paint fragments.
In April Ally teamed up with a friend to create a color series by removing the ink
cores from markers and pouring water through them into small plastic containers. They
described their process:
“We cut open the markers and took this part [end cap] of the marker off. There’s
this long thing full of ink [marker core] and we took that out. Then we poured
water inside of it and it would come out. If it was too dark we’d pour some out
and add more just plain water and we got our colors. This is red, orange, yellow,
green, blue, indigo, purple, and pink” (personal communication April 19, 2013).
The practice of obtaining color from marker cores became increasingly popular.
A fifth grade girl named Tammy, added liquid soap to her ink and water mixture and
called the resulting substance “unicorn foam.”
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Figure 54. Data images 051 Color series from marker cores, and video still image
of Tammy’s unicorn foam.
During recess the students enjoyed creating structures and spaces in the wooded
areas that bordered the campus of our school, which they called their forts (Rufo, 2012a).
As the number of forts increased, students began to develop tools to perform various
functions. A group of girls set up a craft studio in a clearing in front of their fort. Using a
cinderblock as a motor and a rock as a pestle they ground up plants to create dyes and
potpourri. They told me, “We’re making dye, natural green dye. We get a bunch of these
garlic mustard leaves and crush them with a rock. It smells good, like a pizza!”
Figure 55. Data images 053 and 055. Creating green dye and potpourri.
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Back inside the classroom a fifth grader named Nadine accidentally discovered
that tissues soaked with hand sanitizer absorbed the ink from drawings our students made
on the classroom tables (Rufo, 2012b). Nadine continued to experiment and eventually
developed a process where she created a design on a tissue with hand sanitizer then
flipped the tissue over on a table and gently pushed down so ink from the table drawing
absorbed into the tissue. She then carefully rubbed the tissue around the surface of the
table to absorb more of the ink and placed a second tissue on top of the first pressing
firmly with an open palm to soak up the excess. Finally, Nadine opened the ink stained
tissue back up, tore it into little pieces rolled up the pieces into a ball, wrapped it in
cellophane and affixed the end with a rubber band.
Figure 56. Video stills showing tissue dye process.
Food Creations
At our school the children and faculty ate lunch together in the dining hall. Each
teacher sat at a table with eight students. At my table I allowed students to use their food
and other dining hall items for their creative expressions. In early September one of the
girls who would later make the green dye in her fort, created a figure out of her placemat
Figure 57. Data image 056. Placemat figure.
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Apples were plentiful in the dining hall and provided a ready-made material for
carving. Harlan, the boy who a few days earlier made the nametag, used a butter knife to
carve an alien spaceship out of an apple. He created a front hatch that lifted up to reveal a
rectangular space out of which he carved the alien figure. The figure fit perfectly in the
rectangular void so that the hatch could close. He also hollowed out a space for a trunk on
the opposite side of the apple with a hatch that could be raised or lowered.
Figure 58. Data image 057. Alien spaceship carved from an apple.
Tate, the boy who liked to write his name in Cheerios, used his teeth to carve out
a bespectacled face on an apple. A fifth grade girl also used her teeth to carve a ribbonlike strand of skin and flesh from an apple. The next day Walter, the boy who created the
spider cemetery, used a butter knife to carve what he called an Apple-O-Lantern.
Figure 59. Data images 058 and 059. Apple strand and Apple-O-Lantern.
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Hannah, the fourth grade girl who liked to create humorous doodles on her math
homework, decided to put ketchup on her chicken patty after taking three bites. When she
took off the top part of the bun and placed it next to the bottom part, she found it
resembled an angry face. She used ketchup to draw in eyebrows, eyeballs and a nose. She
described it as an angry old man with a beard.
Figure 60. Data image 060. Angry old man with a beard made from a chicken patty.
Ketchup was also used to convey messages. Toward the end of the spring
semester a fifth grade girl used ketchup to write the message, “We will miss u” on the top
portion of a hamburger bun, which she presented to a student teacher who was spending
her last day with our class. The next time ketchup was available she wrote, “! Smile”
along with a happy face on her plate of fries.
Figure 61. Data images 063 and 064. Messages written in ketchup.
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Periodically the dining hall would run out of stainless steel flatware and the
students would be required use plastic utensils. These items also provided creative fodder
as can be seen from a February 14 photo showing Cooper (the boy who made the Cheerio
Kabob) with fangs made from plastic fork tines.
Figure 62. Data image 062. Plastic fork tine fangs.
Forts and Spaces
In the fall of 2009 Eddie supervised our students as they began to explore areas
beyond the school’s playground during recess. Within a few weeks the children
constructed numerous fort structures with connecting pathways. Soon the forts “had
become so popular that at any given recess up to 25 students could be found working on
them” (Rufo, 2012a, p. 42). Many of the younger children in the earlier grades would
peer through the chain-link fence boarding the small playground and watch our kids
moving about their fort areas. Each fall our new students would excitedly ask if they too,
could take part in the fort building activities.
On the first day of school in 2012, the students organized themselves into groups
and assigned each a role to construct the first fort of the school year. They found a
deflated kickball and placed it on the end of a long branch wrapped with duct tape to use
as a flagpole. The fort included other elements such as a ring of rocks to serve as a
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pretend fire pit and a gate structure made out of branches along one of the paths.
The next day, two students organized a method to harvest long stems of golden
rod to use as insulation in the fort. At the same time a group of girls decided to inhabit an
abandoned fort constructed by students who had graduated the previous year. They
created a broom from long grasses attached to the bottom of a branch and used it to
sweep and clean the grounds around their fort area.
A few days later a student brought in fifty feet of nylon rope and a pulley to create
a rope tow to transport supplies and visitors to a fort built at the top of a steep hillside.
The next day a boy and girl used a similar rope to drag heavy limbs up a hillside in a
wooded area where they decided to build a fort. They added additional rope creating a
tandem rope tow so they could access their fort at the same time.
Figure 63. Data image 071. Students using a double rope tow.
On another portion of the wooded hillside a student created a raised structure of
branches and ropes. He propped a dead branch in the forks of trees to use as a handrail
allowing safe movement from one raised portion to the next.
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In late September a team of three students constructed a roof by weaving sections
of dead branches while at the base of the hill, the girls who made the green dye and
potpourri used shorter branches, sticks and grasses to create a thatched style roof design.
Figure 64. Data images 073 and 074. Branch and thatch fort roof structures.
The following day they made a window by opening up a hole in the fort wall and one girl
used a sharp stone to carve a stick she planned to use as some type of tool. They rolled
large stones into their fort to use as chairs and stored rolls of duct tape on a low hanging
branch. They then designed a path with a decorative stone border leading to their fort.
Figure 65. Data image 077. Stone path to fort.
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Two days later the students who had built the original fort atop the hillside added
a roof by feeding two long branches through the forks of Sumac trees and laying rows of
shorter branches across them and a member of the fort with the stone pathway created a
crude basket made of sticks and masking tape.
The students were allowed to expand their fort boundaries as long as they adhered
to a few safety rules. One was that they emerged from the wooded areas and gathered
together when Eddie whistled signaling the end of recess.
Figure 66. Data image 080. Students emerging from woods at the sound of Eddie’s
whistle.
Cooperation became integral to the success of the fort building projects. Students
soon became known for specific skills that could be used as bartering units. One such
example was when a group of girls employed a student who was adept at designing and
constructing roofing systems. He was allowed access to their fort if he showed them how
to construct a stable roof.
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Figure 67. Data image 081. Student demonstrating a roof design.
Eventually, students found additional ways to entertain themselves in and around
the fort structures. In early October a group of girls noticed a low hanging branch that
sagged and sprang back up when they put weight on it or took weight off of it. They
called it their Bouncy Seat Toy and took turns gently bouncing on it. The following week
they added a gate to their fort by feeding a long thin branch through scrub brush on one
side and a low hanging branch of an old massive Sugar Maple on the other. In November
after the leaves fell, students noticed loops of thick vines hanging a few feet off the
ground and used them as swings.
Figure 68. Data images 082 and 098. Bouncy Seat and vine swing.
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As forts were completed some of the students began to use their fort areas as
settings for imaginary games. Two groups played what they called the Queen Capture
Game. The participants “captured” the opposing team’s queen by gently tapping her with
sticks they decorated with duct tape. Once tapped, the queen would be required to
accompany them to their “jail” which consisted of a small clearing hollowed out in the
undergrowth near their fort area.
The next day the game morphed into an activity they called The Fort Capture
Game where the goal was to capture all the members of the opposing side in addition to
their queen. Many students integrated a slow-motion choreographed jousting routine into
the game. As popularity grew and more students participated, teams began to apply
specific patterns of colored duct tape to their faces to signify their team affiliation and to
alleviate confusion during gameplay. Duct tape became a sought after commodity in and
around the fort areas. Students brought in rolls of various colors and patterns to decorate,
personalize and identify their walking sticks. Broken branches made convenient holders
for multiple rolls of duct tape.
Figure 69. Data image 095 and 087. A student points to his team affiliation marking
made of duct tape and a broken branch used as a duct tape dispenser.
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Sometimes the fort activities brought children together who would otherwise have
not associated with each other. Lydia, the girl who made the scribble drawing, was
considered by the faculty to be courteous and bright. Tammy, the girl who made the
Unicorn Foam, had a reputation for being a troubled student who fabricated stories and
was a bad influence on others. But during one recess in early October as I was checking
in on the fort building activities, Lydia and Tammy excitedly called me over to see their
new creation. I saw a long branch with what appeared to be trash hanging from thin
shoots growing from the main branch. In her clipped, rapid fire delivery Tammy
described what I was looking at:
“This is our stick of fame. We have gloves, all the duct tape we’ve traded, a little
popper thingy we found, and a hand wipe. She [Lydia] had to wipe her hand after
touching a boy’s hair and we hung it up here and it looks mah-ve-lous! The
popper thing actually pops and this is the empty Rufo duct tape holder and that
goes right here on the stick of fame” (personal communication October 10, 2012).
Figure 70. Data image 085. Stick of Fame.
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After making my rounds to see how the children at the other forts were doing I
returned to Lydia and Tammy’s fort. As I slowly made my way up the hillside I noticed a
few other girls had joined them. Tammy excitedly announced, “Mr. Rufo guess what?
We’re tiling the floor with smooth rocks!” Suddenly, Gloria jumped off of the nearby
bouncy seat branch and interjected, “Tiling was my idea Rufo” (personal communication
October 10, 2012). As I watched, Tammy used a stick broom to sweep away leaves while
Gloria fetched the stones and Lydia laid them in place.
Figure 71. Video still. Looking up the hillside toward Lydia and Tammy’s fort
Lydia also developed a technique to create a wind and rainproof roof. Gloria
brought her handfuls of uncut grass from the edge of the playing field, which Lydia
twisted into long clumps and tucked in the crevasses between the branches and then
covered with a layer of sticks.
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Figure 72. Data image 089. Lydia constructing a wind and rainproof roof.
Many of the students became territorial about their forts. Each fort had a specific
number of members based on the size and popularity of the fort. Newcomers who wanted
to join a fort had to be voted in by its members. Alliances were created and dismantled on
a weekly basis. Occasionally agreements over boundaries would erupt and fort members
would usually ask Eddie or I to help mediate. However, Libby took a different approach
and created what she called a Fort Resort. The Fort Resort did not contain a structure but
consisted of a small clearing among young maple and boxelder trees onto which were
attached a variety of objects and artifacts made from paper cups, string and masking tape.
Students were invited in and given tours of the decorative elements such as a miniature
hammock and flower holders.
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Figure 73. Data image 094. A partial view of Libby’s Fort Resort.
A week after it had began, Lydia, Tammy, and Gloria developed new tools and
techniques to install the large flat stones they gathered as tiling for their fort floor. Each
day they cleaned out the channels and grooves between the stones using short, thick
sticks. They used a scrap piece of 1 x 2 furring strip as a lever to position the heavier
flagstones they procured from the backyard of the old and recently vacated Headmaster’s
residence that bordered their fort area. They were joined by Ally who showed them how
to move the stones longer distances by employing a “walking technique” moving one
side forward then rotating the other side forward and so on.
Figure 74. Data images 092 and 093. Lever tool and walking technique.
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The fort building tasks required cooperation among the students. Over the course
of a week, three boys were willing to spend most of their recess time brainstorming ideas
and methods on how to remove an old tree stump. As the weather turned cold, Lydia,
Gloria, Tammy, and Ally figured out an effective way to create an insulated fort wall by
turning a discarded wood pallet on end and stuffing it with grass, twigs, and leaves.
Figure 75. Data images 096 and 097. Boys removing a tree stump. Lydia, Gloria, Tammy
and Ally insulating their fort.
By late November the best locations for fort construction were taken. Hannah and
Natasha decided to leave one of the larger fort groups and create their own. However, one
of the few spots left included only a handful of mature trees set wide apart. To solve this
problem the girls brought in a large coil of nylon rope, which they weaved around the
trucks of three large trees and multiple saplings in a spider web pattern. To create a roof,
they simply tossed a variety of branches and sticks atop their nylon web.
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Figure 76. Data image 099. Hannah and Natasha constructing their fort roof.
In early December brown leaves littered the network of pathways that weaved
throughout the woods between fort structures. Harlan (the student who carved an alien
spaceship from an apple) used a hooked branch he called a Sweep Tool to push the leaves
aside.
Figure 77. Data image 100. Harlan using his sweep tool.
Throughout the year the students asked for permission to expand the boundaries
where they were allowed to build forts and requested that I accompany them to explore
new areas around the 26-acre campus. During one of these treks we came to an
embankment near a service road where the school’s maintenance department dumped
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brush and surplus building materials. At the top edge of the embankment were piles of
leaves, brush, mulch, asphalt, gravel, sections of PVC pipe, pressure treated 4 x 4 timbers
a few bales of hay and cinderblocks scattered about. One of the girls from the group who
had created the green dye and potpourri happened to poke her walking stick into one of
the piles, and discovered broken bricks and old pavers buried under the mounds. This led
to an organized effort where the children foraged for bricks and pavers by poking their
walking sticks deep into the piles until they hit something hard. A few students grabbed
armfuls of bricks to construct a wall between two trees in their fort. To make their job
easier, they obtained disc sleds to which they attached pieces of nylon rope to use as a
long handles. They loaded the sleds up with bricks, pavers, and cinderblocks then
multiple students took hold of the rope and drag the sled to their fort area.
Figure 78. Data image 103. Using sleds to transport bricks and pavers.
In January, February and March, as the forts became buried in snow, sledding and
snowshoeing treks took over as the favored outdoor recess activities. When the wind chill
fell below 10 degrees Fahrenheit, we spent recess indoors. Our students were allowed to
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construct indoor forts and spaces from a variety of materials including climbing wall
crash mats and large canvas drop cloths, AV carts and stepladders, and portable white
boards strung with caution tape.
In early April the snow had melted enough to once again allow access into the
outdoor fort areas. A group of students decided to expand their fort territories to include
the backyard of the old headmaster’s residence. More nylon rope was procured and
wrapped around trees in a thicket to demarcate boundaries. New roof designs were
created. Thicker, stronger ropes were incorporated into the design of the forts. Wooden
pallets served multiple functions as walls, ladders and floors. One student created a stone
foundation to level the pallet floor of his hillside fort.
Figure 79. Data image 108. Fort building resumes.
Ropes became integral to the fort building experience. One student created a
rudimentary pulley system by tying the end of a rope around a rock and tossing the rock
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over a branch. He tied the other end of the rope around the trunk of a small fallen tree so
he and his friends could transport it up the hillside to their fort. Two days later Ally,
Tammy, Lydia, and Gloria used a similar rope to drag a fallen twenty-foot Cherry sapling
up a hillside, across a practice field, and through the tennis courts to their fort area.
Figure 80. Data image 112. Harlan integrates nylon rope into his fort structure.
Figure 81. Data image 111. Ally adjusts the rope on a small Cherry tree.
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By May, the forts continued to grow in popularity. New materials such as canvas
drop cloths were integrated into the fort designs. The network of paths connecting the
forts were further developed and expanded which led to increased trade and bartering.
Two boys set up a “stick snapping” business along the side of one especially busy
pathway. Their main tool was a heavy wedge of pressure treated lumber. With the forts
established, attention turned to decoration, design and visual experimentation. Libby
added a stone bordered entry to her Fort Resort area, carefully trimmed the grass with a
pair of scissors and invited students to attend tours. Two boys made decorative bays by
stacking branches atop low stonewalls they constructed from gabion stone taken from a
nearby drainage system. Another student found that removing the bark from a young
maple made it appear as a light colored pillar in the midst of the deep green wooded area.
Figure 82. Data image 113. Canvas drop cloth integrated into a fort design.
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Figure 83. Data image 114. Student running down a pathway in the undergrowth.
Figure 84. Data image 116. Libby’s Fort Resort entry.
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Figure 85. Data image 118. Bays made from gabion stone and branches
Frozen Creations
In the back of our classroom we had a mini-fridge. The students had access to the
mini-fridge and through experimentation had found they could convert the whole unit
into a freezer by turning the temperature control dial to its lowest setting. One day Libby
saw her classmates filling latex gloves with water and “just playing with them like water
snakes” (personal communication February 7, 2013). Libby told me the students were
creating their own version of a popular stress relieving fidget toy called Water Snake
Wigglies. She decided to do the same but also filled her glove with food coloring,
secured the end with masking tape and placed it in the mini-fridge to freeze.
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Figure 86. Data image 120. Libby holding her frozen latex glove filled with water and
food coloring.
A few weeks later Ally created a similar frozen object and removed the latex
glove after it froze to see what it looked like. Additional students began to use the
classroom mini-fridge for a variety of frozen creative experiments that involved paper
and plastic cups, string, scissors, latex gloves, food coloring, plastic wrap, kidney beans,
wax paper, plastic containers, aluminum foil, beakers, tissues, and test tubes.
Figure 87. Two views inside our classroom mini-fridge.
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Glue
In January I started to notice geometric designs drawn in marker on graph paper
covered in some type of transparent glossy coating drying on the windowsill in the back
of our classroom. When I inquired, I was told that they were sticker projects created by
three fifth grade students, Angela, Stephanie, and Gwen. I later learned that the sticker
projects were usually made during our indoor recess times but there were some students
who also made them during math class. I asked the three girls how they made these
stickers. Stephanie told me that the first step was to draw a design on a piece of paper,
“then laminate it with glue.” Angela added that it was then placed it on “a plastic surface
so that it’s easy to peel off and then you put like double-sided tape on the back to make it
sticky” (personal communication January 24, 2013).
A few days later Gwen experimented with a different technique. She first covered
the back and front of her sticker design with glue. Then she set some on a wooden board
and others on wax paper to see which would peel off more easily after the glue dried. She
also showed me how she wrote her name with a glue and food coloring mixture on wax
paper to create a three-dimensional nametag.
Figure 88. Data image 125. Gwen’s sticker experiment on wax paper and wood
board backings.
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Elmer’s glue quickly went from being used as an adhesive to being used as a
creative medium. It began when another fifth grade girl, Stella, filled the bottom of a
paper cup with glue, added red food coloring and gently stirred with a large toothpick
creating red and white paisley swirls. This idea evolved as she added small bits of paper
to suggest crackers and called it Fake Soup.
Figure 89. Data images 124 and 126. Stella creates Fake Soup.
Over the next few weeks using glue as a creative medium gained in popularity. In
February I watched as Ally poured small pools of glue onto wax paper, added drops of
food coloring, swirled the mixture then added a pinch of glitter.
Figure 90. Data image 127. Ally combines glue, paint, and glitter.
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The day after Valentine’s Day, Tammy teamed up with Stella to create something
they called Prank Chocolates. They did this by taking an empty heart-shaped box and
pouring Elmer’s glue and paint into the plastic candy insert. They used Elmer’s glue to
represent white chocolate, brown paint for milk chocolate, and black paint for the dark
chocolate pieces.
Figure 91. Data image 128. Prank Chocolates by Tammy and Stella.
Soon more supplies were taken from the science cabinet and integrated into the
students’ creative experiments. Ally observed a friend dribbling skeins of Tacky Glue
onto the top of a water and food coloring mixture and decided to do the same. For her
technique, she first poured the Tacky Glue into a small measuring cup for better control
as she carefully dribbled it onto the top of a blue food coloring and water mixture in a
small polystyrene jar.
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Figure 92. Data image 129. Tacky Glue dribbled into a water and food coloring mixture.
The final project before the glue ran out was a work called Colored Glue created
by Libby. She told me, “I was thinking I could start a fake business where I just give out
glue that’s colored. It’s just glue with food coloring in it. These are dried cups of it.”
When I asked her why she had toothpicks on either side she said, “They’re exclamation
points, see?” (personal communication March 20, 2013).
Figure 93. Data image 130. Colored Glue by Libby.
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Head and Hand Accoutrements
The children would often create a variety of accoutrements for their heads, faces
wrists and fingers. Nicole started this trend. Although Nicole was a fourth grader, she
was the tallest student in our classroom. Her mother was very involved in the school,
serving on numerous committees, volunteering for fundraisers, and scheduling meetings
with Nicole’s teachers in addition to the parent-teacher conferences. Nicole seemed
uncomfortable with the added attention and would attempt to feign a detached affect but
her gregarious nature often made her the center of attention. During one snack break a
Nicole walked up to me and pointed to the top of her head. Embedded in her hair were
five Cheerios. When I asked what she had done she responded, “I decorated my hair with
Cheerios” (personal communication September 13, 2012). A few weeks later she showed
me a sprig of leaves from a Dogwood tree she had placed in her hair.
Figure 94. Data images 131 and 133. Nicole’s hair decorations.
My students also created items to cover or adorn their faces. One day Stephanie
decided to make a Vandyke style beard out of masking tape. Jodie designed a heartshaped mask that she cleverly kept in place with her eyeglasses. Later in the year I found
a flyer that Stephanie attached to our door titled, Need a Moustache? The flyer included a
row of tear-off paper mustaches along the bottom.
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Figure 95. Data images 132, 134, and 136. Masking tape beard, heart mask, and Need a
Moustache? flyer.
One day in February our classroom experienced a sudden surge in the creation of
head and hand accoutrements. It began as the fourth graders were cleaning up and getting
ready for lunch. One student had a roll of tinfoil that he was using for his science
experiment. As if a flash mob had formed, they all, one-by-one, began to use the tinfoil to
create earrings, bracelets, rings, armbands, belts, eyeglasses, beards, moustaches,
prosthetic noses and facial growths.
Figure 96. Samples of foil face accoutrements. Left to right: Nolan with a nose bow,
ornamentation on Jodie’s eyeglasses, and the boy who was using tinfoil in his science
experiment with a cheek protrusion.
Tattoos have always been popular with my students. Libby came up with a
product she called Totally Temporary Tattoos. To create her tattoos she drew a design on
a piece of duct tape with a water-based marker. She then pressed the side of the tape with
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the design into her arm and peeled it off to reveal a faint image of the design on her skin.
She then made a sign to advertise her tattoos and posted it on our door next to
Stephanie’s moustache flyer.
Figure 97. Libby’s Tattoo advertisement
Masking and Duct Tape Creations
Masking tape and duct tape were used for a number of different applications and
activities in my classroom. I purchased a carton of masking tape hoping it would last for
the duration of the school year and two rolls of duct tape were included on the supply
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lists for each student; however, “The masking tape became so popular that all 48 rolls had
been used up by January” (Rufo, 2013b, p. 108).
Throughout the year students created jump ropes, pretend casts, animal forms,
figures, bags and pouches, wallets, and mats. They also wrapped pencils, pens, and
markers in masking tape. The students made items from masking and duct tape as props
to go along with their imaginary games. There were duct tape ID bracelets that served as
passes to enter specific forts. Libby made what she called a Monster Hunting Whip to use
in a game she created and a group of boys affixed masking tape numbers to the backs of
their shirts to transform them into their favorite soccer players. During a brief period, the
toy Mighty Beanz became popular and students used masking tape to design houses,
trailers, and ramps for their Mighty Beanz characters. Stephanie along with a group of
friends made a key out of masking tape to play a game they created based on the book
Inkheart.
Figure 98. Data images 145, 147, and 155. Various masking and duct tape
creations.
Math Class Creations
During math class, Eddie and I allowed the children to work on their math and
creative projects simultaneously. Some students set up mini-art studios at their seats
before math class began so they could have their creative materials ready. It was common
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to find one student using a Sharpie marker to draw on the table while a second doodled
on his paper and a third continued work on an ongoing art project. One day in late
January while the class was working on long division, Cooper created a scratch and sniff
poster using scented markers. A few days later Stella showed me a vibrant pattern design
she made based on a technique she learn from a friend the previous year. Nicole was
always doodling and often her works turned into fully developed abstract pieces.
Figure 99. Data images 158 and 159. Cooper’s Scented Marker poster and
Stella’s design.
Figure 100. Nicole working on a doodle pattern.
Mixtures and Potions
By the second half of the school year, the children were used to having access to
all of our classroom supplies for their academic or creative needs. During indoor recess
there was always as a group who would congregate in the back area of our classroom
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where we kept cabinets with science supplies, carts of art supplies, tables on which to
work, the classroom mini-fridge and shelves filled with odd and ends. By February,
exploring liquid mixtures became a favored activity.
Tammy combined dishwashing liquid, blue paint and water with blue and green
food coloring to create a concoction she called Foam. Four other fifth grade girls donned
latex gloves to fill polyethylene bottles and graduated cylinders with food coloring and
water mixtures. They then used pipettes to transfer the different colored liquids into test
tubes set in a rack. When I inquired what they were doing Nadine (the girl who
discovered a tissue dying process using hand sanitizer) told me they were making fake
cures for cancer, aids, diabetes, allergies, and rabies. They also showed me a large beaker
half full with a dark plum colored liquid that was a mixture of all the samples to cure the
biggest problem. When I asked what the biggest problem was Nadine said, “Everything.
It’s called the E-effect (personal communication February 8, 2013).
Figure 101. Data image 162. Nadine working on imaginary cures.
Gloria (the girl who made it a point to let me know that tiling the fort floor with
flagstone was her idea) showed me how she made a product she called, Extra Liquefied
Sticky Water. She told me she made it with “hot water and glue sticks. And I had to mush
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it around a lot and I had to use a special tool that I made to mash and dissolve the glue
stick in the water” (personal communication February 8, 2013). Later that month Tammy
showed me how she created a “toxin to kill the Evil Queen” (personal communication
February 27, 2013). She used a mixture of tacky glue, vanilla extract, green paint and
blue and yellow food coloring to create her potion. She said, “Everyone’s trying to save
the world; I’m trying to kill evil people” (personal communication February 27, 2013).
Figure 102. Data images 163 and 164. Gloria’s Extra Liquefied Sticky Water and
Tammy’s Toxin to Kill the Evil Queen.
In March Nolan and Harlan along with a group of friends began making mixtures
they referred to as acids and stink bombs. The boys worked in an excitable and hurried
way compared to the methodical and systematic working methods of the girls, resulting
in more spillages and overflows. The boys were less forthcoming when I asked them to
describe and explain what they were doing. When asked, “Why are you guys making this
stuff?” they answered, “Because it’s fun getting our hands dirty” (personal
communication March 22, 2013).
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Figure 103. Data image 166. After effects Nolan and Harlan’s creative process.
In April, Stephanie, Ally, and Nadine created “a potion to make people forget”
(personal communication April 12, 2013). At first they said it was a secret recipe but later
Stephanie told me what the ingredients were as she used a wooden dowel to mix the
concoction in a large graduated cylinder, “it’s leaves, two blades of grass, some sand,
black glitter, a lot of water, salt, and feathers” (personal communication April 12, 2013).
They first used a mortar and pestle to crush the leaves, grass, and feathers before pouring
the mixture into the graduated cylinder and adding the water, salt, and glitter. After a few
minutes of watching the girls creating their potion, Ally began cutting the tips off of
highlighters and added them to a salt and water mixture to create was she referred to as
glow in the dark liquids.
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Figure 104. Left: Video still of Stephanie, Ally, and Nadine creating their Potion to
Forget. Right: Data image 168 showing Ally’s glow in the dark liquids.
As I was cleaning and organizing the room at the end of the school year I found
Harlan’s Potion Basket hidden behind a bookcase in which he had stored his ongoing
potion experiments and creations. Neatly packed in the basket was a collection of test
tubes, plastic science lab containers, funnels, scissors, paint bottles, markers, paint, and
eyedroppers.
Figure 105. Data image 169: Materials from Harlan’s Potion Basket.
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Movies
During a recess in January, I saw Gloria walking around the playground wearing a
large paper hood painted black with a red tip. When I asked her what she was doing she
told me she was playing the character in Nadine’s movie about a pen that magically
grows larger. As I was about to ask her a follow-up question, Stephanie rushed in
accompanied by a group of friends and whisked Gloria off to their movie set.
Months later in May, I came across a group of students filming a horror movie in
the woods near the forts. Some were actors, others script writers, camera operators and
directors. After a few days of filming they spent a week editing their movie before
hosting a class screening.
Figure 106. Left: Video still. Gloria wearing her pen costume.
Right: Data image 171. A group of students filming a horror movie.
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Names
During the final days of school there was a spell of hot and humid weather so one
day the students voted to stay inside and watch a movie during recess. During the
viewing, a group of girls got markers and a stack of copy paper to produce giant
nametags. Later that week Walter created a logo using the first letter of his surname: W.
His design looked similar to the Westinghouse logo created in the late 1950s by the
famous graphic designer, Paul Rand.
Figure 107. Data images 172 and 173. Giant name tags and Walter’s name logo.
Painting
In October, our school hosted an annual fundraising event called, Grandparents’
Day. During Grandparents’ Day the regular schedule was put on hold to allow for a
variety of presentations and performances. It was difficult to schedule academic classes
after the festivities ended in the early afternoon because some of the Lower School
students would leave with their grandparents. Eddie and I allowed the students who
remained at school to choose what they wanted to do. Many chose to paint.
Libby spread a large canvas drop cloth on the floor, laid a piece of poster paper on
top, took a handful of brushes and filled paper cups with tempera paint. She began
painting by brushing deep blue curved strokes arcing from the lower right hand corner of
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the paper toward the center. She then added a thick layer of magenta along the bottom
edge. When I asked her what she was doing she replied, “I don’t know actually. I need to
mix colors” as she squirted a glob of white into one of the paper cups (personal
communication October 19, 2012). After a few minutes Libby announced she had
finished the picture, which she titled, Flood. When I asked her how she arrived at this
title she told me that her brush strokes and colors reminded her of a flood.
Figure 108. Data image 174: Libby’s painting titled, Flood.
Jodie and a friend were working nearby creating smaller works on pieces of copy
paper. They tested out different paint application techniques that included dipping their
hands into bowls of paint and pressing their palms into, or tapping their fingertips onto,
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the paper. They told me they began using their hands after seeing another student create a
painting of a bat using his handprints to form the wings.
Figure 109. Left: Video still of Jodie and a friend use their hands to apply paint.
Right: A student’s painting of a bat with handprints as wings.
Soon thereafter, I was informed that a fifth grade boy had organized a painting
contest. As I spoke to the children who were painting, I noticed that the paintings for the
contest were realistic renderings whereas the students who were painting for their own
pleasure created more abstract works.
In another part of the classroom, Angela was mixing paint to try to get a specific
red hue that she and Stephanie had in mind for a poster to go along with their science
project. Once Angela was satisfied with the color, Stephanie began using a brush to cover
the poster paper with paint. But suddenly, Stephanie tossed the brush to the side, got on
her knees, leaned over the painting and began to spread the paint with both hands. When I
asked her why she was using her hands she said, “Well the brush wasn’t getting
anywhere and I wondered what would happen if I just used my hands with more
pressure” (personal communication October 19, 2012).
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Figure 110. Data image 178: Stephanie spreading paint with her hands.
Painting had become the activity of choice for many students during our indoor
recess times and the experimentation with techniques and methods of application
continued. Gwen used a paper plate as a paint pallet then after swirling the paint with a
pencil decided she wanted to keep it as an art piece. Two girls asked if they could wipe
the excess paint off of their brushes onto one of our art supply carts before washing them
off in the sink. I told them they could. In January, a group of three girls showed me a
painting technique they developed. They squirted three globs of paint onto a sheet copy
paper then used a commercial paint roller to spread the paint.
Figure 111. Data images 179 and 180. Wiping excess paint from a paintbrush onto the
art supply cart and Gwen’s paint pallet artwork.
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The next day Libby designed her own line of greeting cards. She was pleased to
have accidentally produced a color and told me how she did it: “I decided to put pink
with white and I wanted to add some orange and it made like a Creamsicle color…it just
kind of happened” (personal communication January 11, 2013). Other students working
in close proximity began to share and appropriate techniques and methods of paint
application such as using sponges, rollers or pouring paint directly onto the paper. Nadine
and a friend mixed a set of six original color hues they placed into small bottles to sell
online. As the purple paint began to run low, Nadine decided to make more by
experimenting with various color mixtures. When she found a color she liked, her friend
made a funnel out of a paper cup so Nadine could pour the paint from a mixing bowl into
the empty bottle. This led to the development of an assembly line technique as they
mixed batches of additional colors such as orange and green.
Figure 112. Data image 185. Nadine and a friend replenish the supply of purple paint
with their own mixture.
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Toward the end of the school year a group of students led by Stephanie wanted to
build a series of wooden boxes they called Squirrel Houses as a science experiment to see
which house the squirrels would visit the most. As Stephanie was telling me about the
experiment the children took turns walking over a piece of plywood they had painted
with wax paper laid over the top. When I inquired about this Stephanie said, “We just
painted the wood and putting the wax paper on it and stepping on it will give it a really
cool texture when we pull it off.” When I asked how she came up with the idea she
added, “I was putting wax paper over the boards and I saw that the texture of the wood
came through the wax paper. So I started drawing on the board with my nails and I saw
when I pulled it off it made that [textured] effect” (personal communication May 30,
2013).
Figure 113. Video still. Children walking on a piece of plywood covered with paint and
wax paper for their squirrel house.
Sculpture and 3D Design
My students made 3D objects throughout the school year. During a snack time in
October, Nicole punched a ring of holes around the lip of a paper cup and attached a
masking tape strap so she could wear it as a hat. In January, Libby made an object she
called That Cup of Joe. She said it was funny because it was an overturned paper cup
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with a drawing of coffee spilling out while a toothpick sun rose from the bottom. The
next day, Tate fashioned a miniature a basketball hoop out of tissue, masking tape and a
marker. He and his friend took turns shooting baskets with tiny wadded up pieces of
paper during math class.
Figure 114. Data images 188, 189, and 190. Nicole wearing her cup hat, Libby
describing her sculpture titled, “That Cup of Joe” and Tate’s basketball hoop.
Some of the 3D objects were replicas of commonplace items such as a pair of
glasses Nadine fashioned out of duct tape. Others were traditional classroom toys with an
added twist such as Cooper’s nesting airplanes. Figures were created out of Silly Putty as
well as non-traditional materials such as mud and sticks. Libby made an unusual
constructions such as a dream catcher made from paper, glue, water, and food coloring.
For me the most fascinating was a conceptually based series by Nicole. She found a
variety of small items (a shard of vinyl siding, a section of a rubber ball, a piece of glass
and a small stone) on the playground, which she then colored with a silver Sharpie
marker obscuring their identities.
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Figure 115. Data images 193, 194, and 196. Nadine’s eyeglasses, Cooper’s nesting paper
airplanes, and Nicole’s object fragments colored with a silver Sharpie marker.
Sounds and Rhythms
Ours was an active classroom where the children were free to engage in the visual
arts as well as the performing arts. One day at lunch, individual pies were served for
dessert. Many of my students cleaned out their pie tins and brought them back to the
classroom. Libby created a drum by placing paperclips inside her pie tin and cutting out a
circle of paper as a covering, which was held in place by crimping the edges of the tin
She decorated the top with marker and taped a loop of string on the underside to use as a
handle. Libby also created what she called wind chimes by putting Cheerios inside of two
paper cups and taping on paper lids connected by copper wire.
Figure 116. Data images 198 and 201. Libby’s pie tin drum and paper cup wind chimes.
Later that month a group of fourth grade boys who were part of the Lower School
band ensemble decided to form a musical group they called the Iron Band. Most of the
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instruments were percussive and included 5-gallon water bottles, wooden boxes,
homemade shakers, tables, and metal stool legs. They used a number of different objects
for mallets such as pencils with sponges attached to the ends, paintbrushes, rulers and
pencils wrapped with masking tape. One band member tried to make a guitar by cutting a
rectangular section out of a hand wipes container and stretching string around the
opening. The band liked to practice while waiting to be dismissed at the end of the day,
and if their instruments were not readily available they would used whatever was at hand
including rolls of duct tape, plastic containers and paint rollers.
Figure 117. Data image 202. Mallets and percussive instruments used by the Iron Band
String
In January the students began incorporating string into their creative activities.
Libby made a weave design she called a caterpillar. Ally cut and recut short lengths of
nylon string until they became light, fluffy puffs. She then used food coloring to dye
them mauve, mint and yellow so she could make a tie-dye ball. This inspired others to
partake in the string dyeing activities. Angela mixed water, food coloring and hand
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sanitizer into a paper cup. She then shaped aluminum wire into a hook to dunk the string
into the dye solution.
Figure 118. Data images 204, 205, 206. Left to right: Libby’s string caterpillar, Ally’s
dyed string puffs, and Angela’s wire hook tool.
During a fifth grade math class I observed Cooper and a friend winding string
around scissors and then cutting it. After class I asked them what they were doing. They
told me they starting out just absentmindedly cutting string and after a while noticed that
a pile of tiny clippings had formed. Eventually they developed a tandem cutting process
where they held the scissors parallel and continued to cut while feeding the string
segments through the cutting action of the both scissors. By the end of the class they had
generated a small fluffy pile. Earlier the same day during our fourth grade math class, I
saw Nolan and a friend wrapping string around Popsicle sticks. Nolan told me that he was
planning on making a toy boat out of his string-wrapped sticks. His friend said he saw
what Nolan doing and thought it looked cool so he started to do the same thing.
Figure 119. Data images 207 and 210. Pile of string clippings and string wrapped
Popsicle sticks.
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In February, Gloria did an experiment to determine how long it would take
different lengths of string to soak up a certain amount of water. She placed the string
segments in a series of small water filled vials and observed them over time. Seeing this
led Gloria to experiment with string dyeing techniques and absorption rates. She cut
three-foot lengths of string, which she then coiled into tight bundles and packed into
vials. After adding a few drops of red food coloring, she snapped on the plastic caps and
vigorously shook the vials. She told me she was hoping to get enough string dyed to open
a String Stand and sell different colored string.
Figure 120. Data image 211. Gloria adding red food coloring to a coil of string
stuffed into a vial.
Studio/Supply Area
As the school year progressed, our students became increasingly comfortable with
sharing ownership of the space and the supplies. As previously mentioned, Eddie and I
kept most of the classroom supplies in the back area of the classroom. When the children
were given the opportunity to roam freely during times such as snack or indoor recess
they would often congregate around the art supply carts grabbing reasonable handfuls of
materials to use for their creative projects and explorations.
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Figure 121. Data image 213. Students taking items from a newly organized art
supply cart.
During the week, students or teachers could schedule a class meeting to have
discussions, share ideas, debate issues, perform skits, or give presentations. The class
meetings were held in the front of the classroom where we constructed a small stage in
the corner. By February, it was not unusual for a few students to excuse themselves from
the meeting and quietly go to the back of the room where the art carts and science
supplies were kept. The students would sometimes use science supplies for artistic
purposes and vice versa.
By the end of the year the back area of the room was in complete control of the
students. Except for cleaning the floor at the end of each day so the night cleaning crew
could vacuum, Eddie and I allowed the students to interact within this area according to
their needs and wishes. Usually this meant supplies remained scattered about on tables,
shelves and windowsills.
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Figure 122. Data image 215. Art supply carts and tables under student control.
Table Marks
During the previous school year, the children had decided that they should be
allowed to draw on and mark our classroom tables (Rufo, 2012b). This year the students
began using the tabletops as surfaces for games they created. They drew game diagrams
and wrote instructions on top of and around the existing drawings and markings. By the
spring semester, marking the tabletops was a commonplace activity (Appendix A, Data
218). By late April students started engraving messages and designs into the tabletops
using scissors (Appendix A, Data 219).
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Figure 123. Data images 217 and 219. Left to right: Game diagrams drawn on
tabletop and student engraving the greeting, “Hi” using the tip of a pair of scissors.
Tools
Over the course of the year students made their own tools and utensils. During a
math class in January, I watched as Cooper went to the supply area in the back of the
room picked up a paper cup, large toothpick and black water-based marker. On returning
to his seat he popped off the bottom cap of the marker, took out the ink core and
squeezed the ink into a paper cup. Cooper dipped the large toothpick into the ink and
used it as a stylus to write his math problems. Two weeks later, a friend joined him using
a broken pencil as a stylus.
Figure 124. Data image 221. Cooper using a homemade inkwell and stylus during
math class.
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In May, Libby showed me how she used natural elements found around her fort
area for a sewing project. She used a three-inch sharpened stick as a needle telling me, “I
made the holes with my needle and the grass is my thread and the leaf is my fabric”
(personal communication May 14, 2013). Nearby was an area teeming with garlic
mustard plants where a classmate was using a large piece of curved bark as a basket to
collect the garlic mustard and carry it back to her own fort.
Figure 125. Data images 223 and 225. Sewing leaves and using a bark basket.
That afternoon Harlan showed me a bubble level he made from a test tube filled
with water dyed from highlighter ink. He said that he wanted to use colored water to
make the bubble easier to see. A few days later Nadine created a whiteboard-type writing
surface by wrapping tinfoil around a piece of cardboard. She called it her Mini-Silver
Board.
Figure 126. Data image 226. Nadine’s Mini-Silver Board.
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At the end of the year Angela and a friend showed me how they developed a
system using conventional tools to create unconventional writing systems. They used
diagonal cutting pliers to take the base cap off of markers and extract the cores. Next,
they squeezed the ink from the marker core into a dropper bottle and added water. Then,
they did the same but added hand sanitizer to ink in a paper cup. The said the next day
they were going to test both to see which solution was better for writing.
Figure 127. Video stills showing tools to extract ink from marker cores and Angela
squeezing the ink from a marker core into a dropper bottle.
Toys and Games
Throughout most days, the children created toys and games to entertain
themselves. During a blustery afternoon in October, Libby fashioned a kite out of
masking tape, sticks and copy paper and spent her recess time attempting to fly it.
Months later, she made another kite design using a plastic bag.
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Figure 128. Data image 228. Libby’s first attempt at designing her own kite.
Meanwhile, in the fort areas a group of girls made a swing by cutting a scrap of
pressure treated lumber to size and drilling holes into each end. They strung a rope over a
tree branch and fed the two ends of the rope through the holes in the board. Back in the
classroom, Walter showed me an object he made from masking tape and pencils. He
described it as, “a toy my friends and I made…it can fling washers” (personal
communication, May 29, 2012).
Figure 129. Data images 231 and 232. Left to right: Girl adjusting a homemade swing
and Walter’s toy for flinging washers.
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Weapons
Ever since I began my teaching career I have seen children make bows and arrows
out of pencils and rubber bands. During the year of this study, my students created a few
variations including bows with decorative strips of duct tape, a bow made from a stick
with a conveniently located notch to hold the arrow in place, and a longbow made from a
tree branch to use as a prop in a student-produced version of the Hunger Games movie.
Libby made the longbow and also made a slingshot rock pouch in hopes that these props
would help her get a role in the students’ Hunger Games movie.
Figure 130. Data images 234 and 236. Bow with a conveniently located notch to hold a
pencil and Libby’s longbow movie prop.
Other weapon designs were created based on actual weapons such as spears
crafted by wedging a sharp rock into the end of a large stick. Some weapons were highly
original concepts as when Nicole placed rows of pushpins into a sponge and called it a
Self-Defense Weapon.
Figure 131. Data images 239 and 237. Spear and Self-Defense Weapon.
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Whiteboard
In keeping with our pedagogical philosophy that children should have ownership
of, and agency within, the classroom, students and teachers were allowed equal access to
the whiteboards. The teachers mostly used the whiteboards for academic instruction
whereas the students used the whiteboard in a variety ways.
Students used the whiteboard to make humorous drawings of oversize heads and
teacher portraits. Often random drawings appeared as students arrived and waited for the
day to begin or waited to be dismissed at the end of the day. When one student started
drawing on the whiteboard invariably more would join in. Sometimes the drawings were
purposeful as when a girl copied an image off of her iPhone, another created a large-scale
abstract pattern, and a third diagrammed pretend weather reports. Many times students
used the whiteboard as a message center. Comments and instructions were left next to
drawings, surveys were created, goodbye notes scrawled and silly stories were composed.
Figure 132. Data image 248. Students writing messages and drawing pictures on the
classroom whiteboard.
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CHAPTER 5 - Analysis: Fundamental Attributes of Self-Initiated Creativity
Introduction
A number of approaches were used to analyze the data in this study. Information
was gleaned from examining 253 photographs of students’ self-initiated creative artifacts
(See Appendix A), video clips of the students’ creative processes, and email
communiqués collected and journalized over the course of the 2012-2013 school year.
The photographs and video stills provided a visual record allowing the researcher
to closely examine each piece of data. Video clips provided additional vantage points of
the creative objects and processes. Multiple perspectives were captured depending on the
placement, movement, pans and sweeps of the video camera. These points of view
supplied contextual information such as time of day, the subject being taught or the
activity underway.
Additional information was acquired from listening to audio portions of video
clips. Background conversations and other off-camera sounds provided greater frames of
reference to the activity seen through the camera lens. In some clips students describe
their creative artifacts and processes. In others, fellow students or teachers are heard
giving directions, asking questions and interacting with each other. The audio helps tell
the story of the research site and gives a sense of the classroom atmosphere during the
time of the data collection.
The email communiqués established the macro settings in which the research took
place. The emails offered insights into the day-to-day operations of the school, the
expectations of the administration, the relationships among faculty and the treatment of
the students.
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Using a participatory action research methodology ensured that the data collected
was culled from my lived experiences as classroom teacher. While analyzing a
photograph, videotape, audio recording or email journal entry, I was able to fill in the
context surrounding each piece of data. For example, I knew what had transpired before
and what happened after each piece of data was recorded. I was aware of additional
details about the students such as their histories and reputation within the school, how
they were perceived by teachers, categorized by administrators and what they were
allowed to do or prohibited from doing during the school day. I witnessed how the
children were treated by the faculty and knew the political clout or cultural capital of
each child within their classroom. Action research makes this type of information readily
accessible as opposed to an outside researcher who depends on information culled from
observations and interviews.
It is evident, however, that I brought my own biases, perspectives and
preconceived notions as a classroom teacher to the research site. Although there are
abundant video, photographic, and textual resources for this study, it is understood that
they provided a limited data source. As a documentation tool, the cameras were
controlled and therefore edited by the researcher. As the researcher, I chose when and
what to videotape and photograph. The email communiqués add to the story from the
perspective of my teaching team and other members of the school staff and
administration. The data in this study is not a complete record of every self-initiated
creative event, but only the ones I was able to witness and document.
Fundamental Attributes
During the initial analysis phase, each piece of photographic and video data was
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organized into one of twenty-seven creative categories. The type of creative artifact or the
media used to create it determined each creative category. After examining each piece of
data, similarities and patterns emerged that I arranged into thirteen general themes. Each
theme was classified into a coding system and a theme code parent document (Appendix
B) was created for each creative category. Each theme code parent document lists the
creative category at the top, the data number, the number of instances each type of theme
code appears, and the name of the digital file followed by my notes detailing the reason
and rationale for why I chose to include each theme code.
Figure 133 shows the theme code parent document for the creative category of
Dance. The Dance creative category only had one piece of data, which was a still
photograph from a video clip of Libby doing a ribbon dance using two sticks with caution
tape tied to the ends. In this example the creative category is Dance, the data number is
027, and the name of the digital file is 027: 2.27.13-stick and caution tape dance.MOV.
The theme codes V (Valued by a teacher), S (Serendipitous occurrence), U (Using
materials and supplies in alternate ways), O (Ownership of the classroom space), and E
(Empowerment to creatively express oneself) are each assigned one time to this creative
category. The remainder of the theme codes, I (Inspired by a peer), A (Aesthetic or
decorative aspects added to a functional item), CI (Conceptual ideas), K (New ways of
knowing), T (New creative techniques and methods), C (Communication), St (Student
initiated structure and organization), and CF (Creative fabrication) were not assigned to
this self-initiated creative act.
I chose to include the theme code V (Valued by a teacher) to this piece of data
because halfway through her performance, Libby noticed that I was filming her dance
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and could see that I took interest in it and therefore, valued it to some degree. I chose to
include the theme code S (Serendipitous occurrence) because Libby did not create the
caution tape sticks but happened upon them by accident. Libby did not preplan her dance
but after noticing the caution tape sticks, picked them up and incorporated them into a
dance routine. I chose to include the theme code U (Using materials and supplies in
alternate ways), because instead of using official dance ribbon sticks, Libby used two
small branches that had caution tape streamers attached to the ends. I chose to include the
theme code O (Ownership of the classroom space), because Libby did her dance during a
transition time and used a portion of the classroom space as a stage on which to perform.
I chose to include the theme code E (Empowerment to creatively express oneself)
because Libby chose to personally express herself using dance as a creative medium.
Figure 133. Appendix B theme code parent document sample for Data #027
(2015).
After a theme code parent document was developed for each piece of data in each
creative category, I further analyzed the thirteen themes codes. I decided to embed and
reorganized the original thirteen theme codes into eight fundamental attributes regarding
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the self-initiated creativity of children. This process served to “remove redundancies and
identify critical elements” (Lichtman, 2006, p. 170). The eight fundamental attributes are:
1. Serendipitous Learning
2. Process as Important as Product
3. Cross-Pollination
4. Autonomous Group Learning
5. Innovative Appropriation and Adaptation
6. Creative Transcendence & Aesthetic Enhancements
7. Communication, Empowerment & Self-Advocacy
8. Conflict Within the Status Quo
Two of the original thirteen theme codes were renamed to more accurately depict
what they represented. Serendipitous Occurrence was renamed Serendipitous Learning
and Inspired by a Fellow Student became Cross-Pollination.
Eleven of the theme codes were assimilated under new titles. Using Materials and
Supplies in Alternate Ways, New Ways of Knowing, New Creative Techniques and
Methods, and Creative Fabrication were all included under the attribute, Innovative
Appropriation and Adaptation. Similarly, Valued by a Teacher, Communicating with
Others, Student Initiated Structure and Organization, Empowerment to Creatively
Express Oneself, Ownership of the Classroom Space and Agency of Movement Within
that Space all came under the heading of Communication, Empowerment & SelfAdvocacy. Finally, Aesthetic or Decorative Aspects Purposely Added to a Functional
Item and Conceptual Ideas became part of Creative Transcendence & Aesthetic
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Enhancements. I also saw the need to create three new categories, Process as Important as
Product, Autonomous Group Learning, and Conflict Within the Status Quo.
Next, I created a document (Appendix C) listing all the data that showed evidence
of each of the eight fundamental attributes organized by the creative categories. Figure
134 shows an excerpt from Appendix C. This sample shows the fundamental attributes
Serendipitous Learning and Process as Important as Product. Under each principle is
listed the creative categories with data numbers within those categories that show
evidence of that attribute. For example, in the Drawing creative category, data numbers
036, 039, and 044 showed evidence of the Serendipitous Learning attribute and data
numbers 036, 041, 042, and 044 showed evidence of the Process as Important as Product
attribute.
Some pieces of data only show evidence of one fundamental attribute whereas
other pieces of data showed evidence of multiple attributes. A matrix (Appendix D) was
developed to graphically represent the layout of the data represented in each of the eight
fundamental attributes. As can be seen in an excerpt from Appendix D (Figure 135), data
number 043 shows evidence of one fundamental attribute (Conflict Within the Status
Quo) and data number 044 shows evidence of four fundamental attributes (Serendipitous
Learning, Process as Important as Product, Communication, Empowerment & SelfAdvocacy, and Conflict Within the Status Quo).
The remainder of this chapter describes how the data in the various creative
categories showed evidence of the eight fundamental attributes.
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Figure 134. Appendix C Excerpt: 253 Pieces of data showing evidence of 8
Fundamental Attributes (2015).
Figure 135. Appendix D Excerpt: Matrix showing 253 pieces of data organized
within 8 Fundamental Attributes (2015).
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Attribute One: Serendipitous Learning
Serendipitous learning is described as fortuitous accidental discoveries
(Saadatmand and Kumpulainen, 2013). Serendipitous learning happened in my classroom
when children made unexpected discoveries as they were allowed to engage in selfinitiated creative activities. My students were given agency to follow their interests and
empowered to make decisions in how they went about their learning. Our democratic
classroom environment provided opportunities for unanticipated creative pedagogical
discoveries. 23 pieces of data from 10 creative categories show evidence of the
Serendipitous Learning principle.
Serendipitous Learning in the Amphibian and Insect habitats creative
category. Within the Amphibian & Insect Habitats creative category, five pieces of data
showed evidence of serendipitous learning: 001, 002, 003 and 015. Data numbers 001
and 002 show Walter holding a handful of pebbles he used as tombstones in a cemetery
he constructed for a spider. He came upon this idea by closely observing a small patch of
ground during an outdoor recess time. Walter decided to do his observations near an area
where Eddie and I were discussing an upcoming lesson. Normally, teachers at the
research site asked children to play elsewhere so they could speak in private to one
another. However Eddie and I wanted our students to interact within their learning
environment according to their interests. Walter wanted to search the area where we were
standing. Because of this, he happened upon a dead spider, which led him to the idea of
creating a spider cemetery.
During recess time Eddie and I allowed our students to explore and play in areas
beyond the borders of the school’s playground. Data number 003 shows a salamander a
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girl accidently found as she turned rocks over during her search for pill bugs. This
discovery led to a group of students creating salamander habitats. Soon students began
searching for other types of creatures. As Libby was looking for a slug she happened
upon a worm. Data number 015 shows Libby holding the worm along with the habitat she
created.
Serendipitous Learning in the Dance creative category. Data number 027
shows Libby choreographing a dance routine. In the photo she holds two sticks with
caution tape attached to the ends. A boy created the stick and caution tape objects out of
materials he found outside during recess and brought them into the classroom. Later that
day, Libby saw the sticks propped in a corner, thought the sticks resembled the wands
used during ribbons dances and used them to create her own ribbon dance.
Serendipitous Learning in the Doodles on Math Pages creative category. In
our classroom the students wrote with markers in addition to using pens or pencils. Data
number 032 shows Natasha’s drawing of a figure on a handout in math class with the face
obliterated under layers of deep blue marker ink. Natasha noticed that when she placed
her thumb into the damp ink she could create fingerprints on the paper. After creating a
series of prints she wrote directions so that others could create fingerprints using the same
method.
Serendipitous Learning in the Drawings creative category. In most of the
classrooms at our school, students were required to take notes in a particular manner and
organize them in specific notebooks or binders. In our classroom students took notes in
whatever way they felt most comfortable. Some students used notebooks, some lined
paper and others chose to write on blank sheets of copy paper. Some students copied
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exactly what Eddie or I wrote on the whiteboard while others integrated drawings and
sketches into their notes. Data number 036 shows a scribble drawing that Lydia did on a
sheet of paper during math class. She noticed that she could discern various figures and
objects within the random lines. She worked back into the scribbles, tracing the outline of
a variety of mammals and reptiles.
In data number 039, Ally found that she could make drawings with a modeling
compound. When pressed into white paper, the Model Magic left gray and charcoal
colored smudges and marks. Ally added water when the modeling compound began to
dry out. At one point too much water was added, causing the compound to become
liquefied and run through her fingers. Seeing this effect, Ally added increasing amounts
of water and began creating drip-drawing techniques as seen in data number 044.
Serendipitous Learning in the Dyes creative category. Data number 054 shows
what happened when Nadine accidently found out that hand sanitizer acts as a solvent for
permanent ink. After using hand sanitizer Nadine dried her hands with a tissue and placed
it on a classroom table. She noticed that portions of the tissue soaked with hand sanitizer
absorbed some of the ink from the table drawings. Intrigued by this effect, she purposely
developed a unique multi-step methodology to create and package tie-dyed tissue balls.
While playing in their forts during recess, a group of girls noticed a pleasant
fragrance as they crushed plants to create dyes (Appendix A, Data number 055). This
accidental discovery led them to intentionally create potpourri by grinding and combining
various plants.
Serendipitous Learning in the Food Creations creative category. Data number
060 shows a picture of an open-faced chicken patty sandwich. Hannah noticed that the
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bites she had taken out of her sandwich resembled an angry scowl. Hannah then used
ketchup to add facial features.
Serendipitous Learning in the Forts and Spaces creative category. Serendipity
played a large part during the fort building activities as students noticed objects in nature
that could be converted for new uses. A springy branch became a bouncy toy (Appendix
A, Data number 082), low hanging vines were transformed into swings (Appendix A,
Data number 098) and a branch with a curved end was used as a broom (Appendix A,
Data number 100). The unexpected discovery of a pile of left over building materials led
to the construction of brick walls in the forts (Appendix A, Data number 101), and a
pallet was repurposed as a ladder (Appendix A, Data number 109). Because of the traffic
between forts, interconnecting pathways were eventually developed (Appendix A, Data
number 114).
While absentmindedly stripping loose bark from a small tree, a student noticed
the striking effect of the light colored trunk contrasted with the deep green of the wooded
area (Appendix A, Data number 119) and decided to strip more of the bark off and turn it
into an art object.
Serendipitous Learning in the Glue creative category. Having access to the
classroom supplies and being allowed time to experiment provided opportunities for
unexpected discoveries. Through trial and error, Tammy and Stella found that glue was
the perfect medium for creating faux soup (Appendix A, Data number 126) and
chocolates (Appendix A, Data number 128).
Serendipitous Learning in the Masking and Duct Tape creative category. As
with the glue, students stumbled upon new creative possibilities when using tape as a
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creative medium (Appendix A, Data numbers 140, 144 and 149). One girl told me how
she created a platypus design, “I didn’t know what I was doing and I decided to make this
little thing…and it ended up being a platypus” (personal communication, September 25,
2012). A second wanted to create a masking tape tote bag but instead decided to fold it in
half to make an oversize wallet. A third said, “I just started making a tape strip and it
ended up being a little pouch” (personal communication, October 31, 2012).
Serendipitous Learning in the Painting creative category. After painting a
series of random brush strokes, Libby found that her painting resembled a great wave of
rushing water (Appendix A, Data number 174) and decided to title the work Flood. While
mixing paint another student stumbled upon a formula for creating a Creamsicle color
(Appendix A, Data number 182). Libby told me, “I decided to put pink and white and I
wanted to add some orange and together it made like a Creamsicle color… it just kind of
happened” (personal communication, January 11, 2013). After playing around with wax
paper, paint and plywood, Stephanie discovered a way to create a textured effect by
pressing the wax paper into a still wet piece of painted plywood (Appendix A, Data
number 186).
Serendipitous learning possibilities. Serendipitous learning encouraged a
student-directed approach to knowledge acquisition. These serendipitous creative
activities transpired because the children at the research site had agency and selfgovernance in their learning. At recess the students were allowed to play beside Eddie
and I or request that one of us accompany them as they wandered and explored areas
beyond the designated boundaries of the playground. Students were allowed to bring
outside interests inside the classroom. Some of the creative artifacts were stored inside
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the classroom for safekeeping and further examination and experimentation.
Students chose the way they engaged in their lessons and activities and how they
interacted with the classroom space, materials and supplies. They could take notes in a
variety of ways using whatever materials best suited their needs and interests. They could
draw doodles and designs on classroom handouts or adapt them to fit their creative
investigations. Some brought art materials to their seats for the sole purpose of making
drawings. This agency led them to become more confident outside of our classroom
space, be it in the dining hall or during recess.
The serendipitous learning led to increased creative engagement that in turn
supported the students’ curiosity leading them to interact more closely with their
learning. Serendipitous learning allowed Libby to choreograph a dance routine, Lydia to
experiment with a new drawing technique, Nadine to develop her own method of dying
tissues, and Hannah to find humor and wit in a simple chicken patty sandwich.
In the forts, children took advantage of serendipitous opportunities to entertain,
construct and see things in new ways. Back in the classroom, children stumbled upon
techniques to make imitation objects, faux textures, models and colors.
Attribute Two: Process as Important as Product
When children are offered opportunities to engage in creative learning processes
aside from requirements to produce end products, they often experience a “moment of
artistic insight or burst of creativity” (Engel, 1993, p.309). During these moments of
creative discernment, children will experiment with materials in new ways and
development unconventional techniques and methodologies. Creative processes
demonstrate “aesthetic awareness” (Lund, 1994, p. 21) and “the construction and
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expression of knowledge” (Honigman & Bhavnagri, 1998, p. 205). Eliza Petri suggests
the “process of artmaking is more important than the product” (2003, p. 23). The data set
in this study revealed moments throughout the school year when the students had time to
explore diverse materials and discover new creative techniques and methods free from
timelines, deadlines, templates, exemplars, or prescriptive projects. 26 pieces of data
from 9 creative categories show evidence of the Process as Important as Product
fundamental attribute.
Process as Important as Product in the Drawing creative category. New
drawing techniques were developed when students were not required to produce final
products from predetermined exemplars. Lydia found a new way to generate drawings
(Appendix A, Data 036) by looking for figures within abstract lines and scribbles and
then tracing back into them to highlight the new imagery.
Working according to her own timeline allowed Ally to discover a variety of
mark-making techniques with a modeling compound by adding water, manipulating it
into different shapes or masking off portions of the paper (Appendix A, Data numbers
041, 042, & 044).
Process as Important as Product in the Dyes creative category. Ally combined
her interest in art with a science project on reflection and refraction by placing small
objects into vials filled with water or glue and dying the solution with food coloring
(Appendix A, Data number 048).
Through experimentation, students discovered and perfected techniques to create
dyes by grinding plants (Appendix A, Data numbers 053 & 055). Nadine inadvertently
discovered a way to make tie-dye tissue balls as she experimented with hand-sanitizer,
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tissues and ink from permanent markers (Appendix A, Data number 054).
Process as Important as Product in the Food Creations creative category.
When allowed to play with their food, two students used their teeth as apple carving
tools. A boy carved a bespectacled face into an apple (Appendix A, Data number 061)
and a girl deftly used her lower incisors to remove a delicate strand from the
circumference of an apple (Appendix A, Data number 058).
Process as Important as Product in the Forts and Spaces creative category.
During recess, Lydia, Tammy, Gloria, and Ally developed various techniques and a
system of production enabling them to install a stone floor in their fort structure
(Appendix A, Data numbers 086, 091, 092, & 093).
Process as Important as Product in the Head and Hand Accoutrements
creative category. Data number 137 shows the process Libby developed to produce
nonpermanent tattoos. She used water-based markers to draw designs on duct tape and
then pressed the design onto the arm of a classmate. The glossy surface of the duct tape
provided an easy, safe and temporary way to transfer her tattoo designs.
Process as Important as Product in the Painting creative category. When
afforded opportunities to interact with painting materials in their own way, the students
devised paint application techniques to suit their purposes and aesthetic needs. In data
number 175, Jodie and a friend used their hands to apply paint - creating a series of
effects that included dots, dashes, strokes and splatters as they tapped, slapped, rubbed
and pushed paint with their fingertips and palms. Next to them, Libby set up her own
studio space where she placed paper cups filled with paint on top of a canvas drop cloth
spread on the floor (Appendix A, Data number 176). Libby chose to work horizontally on
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the floor rather than using a traditional vertical easel set up. She also used a variety of
commercial paintbrushes instead of student grade art paintbrushes. Stephanie, working
close by, tossed aside her paintbrush, knelt down over her painting and used both hands
to massage the paint into the surface of her poster paper (Appendix A, Data number 178).
Students also used tools in ways not normally associated with school art
production. Gwen used pencils to mix globs of paint into paisley patterns on paper plates
(Appendix A, Data number 180) while others used commercial paint rollers to create
works of art with atmospheric layering effects (Appendix A, Data number 181).
Process as Important as Product in the String creative category. Manipulating
string appeared to be a meditative process for some students. During a math class a boy
was cutting string into small bits. Cooper joined him and together they silently developed
a tandem cutting technique that resulted in a pile of string fluff (Appendix A, Data
number 207). Working with string as part of a contemplative and relaxing creative
process continued in other ways as can be seen in data number 209 where Nolan and a
friend carefully and methodically wound string around popsicle sticks.
Process as Important as Product in the Tools creative category. When
students were allowed free access to classroom supplies and items found in nature they
used them in unexpected ways. Data numbers 220, 221 and 222 show the process Cooper
undertook to create a writing tool out of a large toothpick and a paper cup filled with ink
he obtained from a the ink core of a water-based marker. Data number 223 shows the
process Libby used to make a sewing kit out of leaves, blades of grass, and a sharp stick.
Process as Important as Product in the Toys and Games creative category.
Data numbers 228 and 230 show two different kite designs. It was evident that the
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materials used and the design would not produce a working kite. However, Libby was
determined to find a way to create a kite that would fly, and spent her recess time
exploring this idea.
Process in learning. Many of the creative artifacts categorized under the Process
as Important as Product fundamental attribute, are not as finished or polished looking
than other artifacts in the data set. However, the processes undertaken to produce these
objects were significant and germane experiences for the students. The students felt
empowered to experiment, confident in their ideas, and safe to fail in their attempts. Each
piece of data in this principle shows evidence of students taking risks as they explored
unorthodox concepts, innovative ideas, and creative methodologies. The students were
not apprehensive to use materials in new ways to achieve their objectives. Often these
processes piqued the curiosity of other students who would want to join in, try to
replicate or offer assistance. Finally, these processes and the accompanying creative
artifacts were student generated, student-led, student-directed and therefore studentcentered. These attributes ensured the learning was a satisfying and meaningful
experience for the students.
Attribute Three: Cross-Pollination
Cross-pollination happens when discrete individuals or groups share insights and
ideas (Anchan, 2015; Crawford, Witherspoon, & Brown, 2014). According to Raynor,
Blanchard, & Spence (2015) cross-pollination is “critical to learning” (p. 103) and can be
“deliberate or ad-hoc” (p. 5). The term “cross-pollination” in education often refers to
“transdisciplinary approaches” (Mady, 2015, p. 1197). Cross-pollination occurred at the
research site when children engaged in self-initiated creative endeavors. In this study the
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instances of cross-pollination were student generated rather than the result of teacherdirected initiatives. A piece of data was considered to show evidence of cross-pollination
if a student expanded on a self-initiated creative idea generated by another student. 50
pieces of data from 11 creative categories show evidence of the fundamental attribute I
have termed Cross-Pollination.
Cross-Pollination in the Amphibian and Insect Habitats creative category.
Data numbers 004-007 document inchworm habitats made by the students. After Tammy
and Gloria found an inchworm, Stephanie decided to do a project that involved building
habitats. Designing and constructing inchworm habitats caught on with a group of
students who shared ideas including where to obtain containers to house the habitats, the
type of water and plant life to put in the habitats, how to decorate the habitats, and where
to keep them in the classroom.
Cross-Pollination in the Dyes creative category. According to the data, the idea
of using food coloring as a creative medium began in late January when Stella mixed
food coloring with glue. A week later Amy used food coloring to dye water and other
objects displayed in small vials (Appendix A, Data number 048) and a few weeks after
that she experimented with placing the vials in the freezer (Appendix A, Data number
050). Food coloring eventually became a popular creative medium among many of the
students.
Cross-Pollination in the Forts and Spaces creative category. After a student
created a rope tow to access his hillside fort (Appendix A, Data number 069), students in
an adjacent fort produced a double rope tow design (Appendix A, Data number 071).
Ropes were employed in other ways too. Ropes were also used to move heavy objects.
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The students attached ropes to the handles of disc sleds to transports bricks to their forts
(Appendix A, Data number 103). Ropes were tied around the stumps of fallen trees and
dragged by groups of students (Appendix A, Data numbers 110 & 111). Ropes were
integral to the design and construction of some forts (Appendix A, Data number 112).
Ropes were looped and tied around stands of trees to demarcate fort boundaries
(Appendix A, Data number 107) and two girls used rope as part of their fort’s roof
structure (Appendix A, Data number 099).
As the forts grew more numerous, interconnecting pathways formed from the
constant movement between them (Appendix A, Data number 114). Some students took
advantage of the bustling activity along the pathways and set up bartering stalls
(Appendix A, Data number 115) and tourist attractions such as Libby’s Fort Resort
(Appendix A, Data number 116).
Cross-Pollination in the Frozen Creations creative category. The refrigerator
was first used in the creative process in early February when Libby had the idea of
freezing a latex glove filled with water and food coloring after observing other students
playing with water filled latex gloves (Appendix A, Data number 120). A month later,
Ally did the same thing and decided to remove the latex glove (Appendix A, Data
number 121) because “the ice was freezing inside the glove and I kept it in there a long
time so the ice is solid now” (personal communication March 5, 2013). Soon after, the
classroom refrigerator was filled with all sorts of frozen experiments and creative
artifacts (Appendix A, Data number 122).
Cross-Pollination in the Glue creative category. Glue was kept with other
supplies on shelves and in cabinets in the back corner of the classroom. This area was a
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favorite spot for children to congregate during indoor recesses and the small space would
quickly become congested. Large folding tables were available to work on and wheeled
carts held a variety of art supplies. The students had free access to all the supplies and
working in close proximity offered many opportunities for cross-pollination.
Glue was first used as a laminate for sticker designs (Appendix A, Data numbers
123 & 125) and then mixed with food coloring (Appendix A, Data number 124). Glue
eventually became the main creative ingredient when Gwen wrote her name in glue on
wax paper, added a few drops of food coloring and peeled it off once dry (Appendix A,
Data number 125). Further investigations led to faux sculptural objects such as the soup
and faux chocolates created by Stella and Tammy (Appendix A, Data numbers 126 &
128), psychedelic three-dimensional imagery by Ally (Appendix A, Data number 127),
and experimental mixtures by Ally and Libby (Appendix A, Data numbers 129 & 130).
Cross-Pollination in the Head and Hand Accoutrements creative category.
Every school year my students have applied tape to their faces to mimic facial hair. This
year the students went beyond simply using tape. Data number 135 illustrates multiple
examples of cross-pollination happening in quick succession when, in February, students
used tinfoil to create a variety of head and hand accoutrements. It began when one fourth
grade boy crafted a small boat out of tinfoil to use in his experiment on buoyancy. During
clean up, another student took some of the tinfoil to fashion a mustache and beard. Others
joined in creating a vast array of facial hair, jewelry, accessories and decorative features.
There was a sudden burst of creativity as the fourth grade students embellished and
expanded upon each other’s ideas.
Similar activities continued and eventually crossed over to the fifth grade
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students. Months later, I found a flier Stephanie made advertising tear-off paper
moustaches (Appendix A, Data number 136).
Cross-Pollination in the Masking and Duct Tape Creations creative category.
In most of the classrooms at the research site, students were not allowed free access to
materials and supplies. Tape was an especially highly guarded commodity. A Scotch tape
dispenser was usually kept on the teacher’s desk with a roll of masking tape in a desk
drawer requiring students to first ask permission before using either. As previously noted,
in my classroom the students had free access to all the materials and supplies. In addition
to Scotch and masking tape, rolls of duct tape were available.
Students observed how their classmates used masking and duct tape in creative
ways. This experience led to an increased interest in using masking and duct tape as a
creative medium and resulted in a proliferation of ideas generated among the students.
Students created masking tape ropes (Appendix A, Data number 138), hand and wrist
wraps (Appendix A, Data number 139), sculptures (Appendix A, Data number 140),
bracelets (Appendix A, Data number 141), bags (Appendix A, Data number 142), wallets
(Appendix A, Data number 144), and mats (Appendix A, Data number 146).
Cross-Pollination in the Math Class Creations creative category. During math
class I observed students who would “quietly get up as if to sharpen a pencil, only to
segue to the back of the room and begin picking through various items in the [art supply]
carts” (Rufo, 2014a, p. 232). They would bring supplies such as paper, markers, string,
scissors and glue back to their seats and create while listening to the direct instruction
portion of the math lesson. Creative activity stood out during these quieter and less active
classroom moments. Here cross-pollination took place silently, as students watched one
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another create. The students drew doodles (Appendix A, Data number 157), made posters
(Appendix A, Data number 158), and created intricate designs (Appendix A, Data
number 159).
Cross-Pollination in the Mixtures and Potions creative category. The creations
that the students referred to as mixtures and potions took place in the back corner of the
classroom, and similarly to the glue explorations, the close quarters gave rise to
opportunities for cross-pollination. The students began to create their mixtures and
potions in early February when subzero wind-chill temperatures required us to hold
recess indoors. The first documented potion was Tammy’s soap, paint, water, and food
coloring mixture she called “Foam” (Appendix A, Data number 161). When asked what
it was she answered, “It’s something you just put by your bed and you shake it and it
foams” (personal communication February 8, 2013). What began as simple mixtures soon
developed into complex, playful and imaginary aggregates collected in test tubes
(Appendix A, Data number 162), bottles (Appendix A, Data number 163), bowls
(Appendix A, Data number 164) and jars (Appendix A, Data number 168).
Cross-Pollination in the String creative category. Students began dying string
in late January when Ally tried to make a tie-dye string ball (Appendix A, Data number
205). The same day Angela refined the dying technique by fashioning a wire hook to
more easily dip the string into the dye solution (Appendix A, Data number 206). These
activities led other students, including Gloria, to conduct additional string dying
experiments (Appendix A, Data numbers 208, 211 & 212).
Cross-Pollination in the Table Marks creative category. During the previous
school year we traded our desks for plastic folding tables. One day a student had told on a
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classmate when she found he had made a small drawing on one of the tables, and “this
led to an extended classroom debate at the end of which the students voted that drawing
on the tables should be allowed” (Rufo, 2012b, para. 7). The following summer we
salvaged old butcher-block style tables that were being thrown out by the art department
and added them to our table collection. Students continued the practice of drawing on the
tables (Appendix A, Data number 218).
In late April a fourth grade girl engraved the word “Hi” into one of the wood
tables with a scissors and soon other students began to develop techniques that allowed
them to incise a variety of decorative patterns and pictures (Appendix A, Data number
219).
Cross-pollination in learning. Cross-pollination occurred at the research site as
the students observed one another’s self-initiated creative endeavors and decided to add
to the idea in some way. Finding an inchworm led to students researching, designing and
constructing habitats in the Amphibian and Insect Habitats creative category. The Dyes
creative category illustrated how the students used food coloring as a creative medium. In
the Forts and Spaces creative category, the students developed a variety of uses for rope.
Students used rope to access a steep hillside, install a double rope tow, transport heavy
objects, establish boundaries and construct forts.
The classroom mini-fridge became integral to the creative process in the Frozen
Creations creative category and glue was used in innovative ways in the Glue creative
category.
The familiar masking-tape-as-moustache appliqué took on a new look as students
used tinfoil in new and unexpected ways in the Head and Hand Accoutrements creative
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category. The students created all sorts of items out of tape in the Masking and Duct Tape
Creations creative category. During times of direct instruction creative ideas were quietly
shared in the Math Class Creations creative category.
Indoor recess time provided a context for a medley of playful concoctions in the
Mixtures and Potions creative category. Even a simple ball of twine stimulated artistic
expression as documented in the String creative category. When wooden tables were
added to the plastic folding tables in the classroom, the students found new ways to leave
their marks on them as documented in the Table Marks creative category.
Attribute Four: Autonomous Group Learning
Theories of cooperative learning in education can be traced back to work of John
Dewey and Kurt Lewin (Hmelo-Silver, Chinn, O’Donnell, & Chan, 2013). Dewey
advocated for democratic practices in schools where students have a voice in what they
learn, how they go about their learning and “have the right to express their will to the
authorities in power” (p. 352). For the most part, cooperative learning practices today
involve teacher-directed “methods in which students work together in small groups to
help each other learn academic content” (Slavin, 2015, p. 5). However, the students at the
research site were allowed to decide when and how they wanted to go about their
cooperative learning by organizing their learning based on interest.
A piece of data was considered to show evidence of the Autonomous Group
Learning principle if the students worked cooperatively to enhance one another’s ideas or
served a specific function within a group to produce a creative artifact. A piece of data
was not considered to show evidence of the Autonomous Group Learning principle if the
students simply worked in close proximity or simultaneously on the same activity. 45
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pieces of data from 8 creative categories show evidence of the Autonomous Group
Learning emergent principle.
Autonomous Group Learning in the Dyes creative category. In April, Ally
teamed up with a friend and developed a process where they created a series of waterbased colors from disembedded marker cores (Appendix A, Data number 051). A month
later, a group of girls set up a workshop in their fort to produce “natural green dye”
(personal communication, May 6, 2013). One student gathered leaves and stems from
mustard garlic plants in the wooded area surrounding their fort. A second student ground
the plants using a rock and cinderblock as a mortar and pestle while a third collected the
green paste from the mashed plants into a paper bowl (Appendix A, Data numbers 053 &
055).
Autonomous Group Learning in the Forts and Spaces creative category.
Evidence of Autonomous Group Learning was common in the Forts and Spaces creative
category because fort construction took place during recess when the students had ample
opportunities to work, play and create together.
On the first day of school, a group of nine students gathered near the wooded area
and set about assigning and selecting tasks as they built the first fort of the school year.
While some erected a makeshift flagpole (Appendix A, Data number 065), others worked
on installing a gate (Appendix A, Data number 066).
The next day the students once again formed teams to gather field grasses to
insulate their forts (Appendix A, Data number 067) and fashioned brooms from branches
and long blades of grass to clean their forts (Appendix A, Data number 068). Together
they constructed a variety of rope tows (Appendix A, Data numbers 069 & 071) and
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shared ways to use ropes as tools (Appendix A, Data numbers 070, 110 & 111). They
brainstormed and developed methods to incorporate ropes into the architecture and
design of the forts (Appendix A, Data numbers 109 &112). They designed a ropes course
and created challenges for one another (Appendix A, Data number 072). The students
demonstrated techniques for making roof structures (Appendix A, Data numbers 073,
074, 078, 081, 089, & 108).
In the forts, the students toiled (Appendix A, Data numbers 096, 102 &103) and
traded (Appendix A, Data number 115). They used their forts to create toys and games
(Appendix A, Data numbers 082, 084 & 088). The fort activities evolved into a
subculture with its own rules, customs, amusements and significant artifacts (Appendix
A, Data numbers 080, 085, 087, 094, 098 & 116).
Autonomous Group Learning in the Masking and Duct Tape creative
category. Data number 151 shows students using masking tape and copy paper to create
objects to use with their Mighty Beanz. Mighty Beanz are small, plastic, bean-shaped
collectible toys. A pair of students worked together to construct a two-story house with a
tiny bed on the second floor and a trailer with a flip-up roof for their Mighty Beanz toys.
Data number 153 shows a key Stephanie made from masking tape and a marker
cap that was used as a prop in an imaginary game her and two friends created based on
the book Inkheart.
Autonomous Group Learning in the Movies creative category. Data number
170 shows Gloria wearing a pen costume made out of painted paper and packing tape.
She was working with a group of girls who were making a movie.
Data number 171 shows another group of students using the wooded area near the
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forts as a setting for their movie. Many students were involved in this project and took on
a variety of roles including directors, videographers, writers, actors, special effect
designers, and editors.
Autonomous Group Learning in the Painting creative category. Nadine and a
friend worked together in the Painting creative category by producing their own set of
paint colors (Appendix A, Data number 184) and mixing new batches of colors that were
running low (Appendix A, Data number 185).
Autonomous Group Learning in the Sounds and Rhythms creative category.
Upon entering in the morning or waiting to be dismissed at the end of the day, large
groups of students would gather and play rhythms on percussive instruments such as
cymbals and box drums and instruments they had created out of pencils, stools, tables,
water bottles, plastic containers and other readily available objects in the classroom
(Appendix A, Data numbers 199 & 203).
Autonomous Group Learning in the String creative category. Cooper and a
friend worked together in almost complete silence during the direct instruction portion of
a math lesson to develop a cutting method to turn lengths of string into a small soft pile of
string fragments (Appendix A, Data number 207). After the class the boys informed me
the pile of fragments could be used for mattress stuffing and shared their technique,
explaining that “when we have a lot [he] picks it all up and then he holds it and then he
cuts the bottom off and then it all falls into a pile and I cut off all these tops to make it
smaller” (personal communication, January 25, 2013).
Autonomous Group Learning in the Toys and Games creative category. One
morning in mid April, a group of students pushed two large wooden classroom tables
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together to play their own version of a table tennis game (Appendix A, Data number
229). The students formed lines on either side of the table and swatted a Ping-Pong ball
back and forth using the crease between tables as a net. They added series of marks, lines
and directions on the tables in bright red permanent marker ink signifying various
boundaries and game rules.
A month later, a group of six girls worked together to construct a swing in their
fort area (Appendix A, Data number 231). Two of the girls created the seat by sawing a
piece of scrap lumber to the desired length and drilling holes on either end. After
procuring twenty feet of nylon rope all six worked together to figure out how to suspend
the swing from a tree near their fort area. After a variety of unsuccessful attempts, the
tallest in the group climbed partway up the tree and following the instructions of the girls
on the ground, successfully secured the ropes to a series of branches. I suggested they try
to locate a tree with a cantilevered branch because the arc of the swing came close to the
trunk on the tree they chose to use. However, their design allowed them to swing either
parallel to the trunk or perpendicular to it and then gently push off of the trunk with their
feet when swinging.
Autonomous group learning. When the children were allowed to group
themselves autonomously, the choice-based learning that took place was meaningful and
relevant. In the above examples, the students engaged in cooperative group learning when
they were interested in producing a similar product, taking part in the same activity or
solving a communal problem.
The girls who were interesting in making the colored dye from the garlic mustard
plants formed specific tasks for themselves in an assembly line fashion.
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The forts began as a collective activity where the students worked in large and
small groups erecting a flagpole, building gates, gathering materials, creating simple
machines, designing architectural structures and forming an imaginary society.
Autonomous grouping happened when the students came together around their
shared interests. They shared ideas and created new elements for their Magic Beanz toys
such as houses, trailers and ramps.
Giving form to a vision such filming a movie required a collective effort. A
number of students were needed to fill the large cast of characters, help with the
direction, operate the cameras and develop the storyline.
Other students autonomously formed groups either as a result of their playfulness
and exploration, as when the series of paint colors were created, or to address a common
need, as when they ran out of purple paint. Still other groups and pairs formed from
serendipitous swarms.
At various times when children gathered, impromptu percussion sessions formed,
downy piles of string fragments were produced, tabletop games were played, and new
playgrounds were developed.
Attribute Five: Innovative Appropriation and Adaptation
Adaptation and innovation are considered necessary skills “for successful and
productive lives in the twenty-first century” (Darling-Hammond, & Bransford, 2005, p.
42). According to Zhu and Engles, innovation is the “introduction of something new and
useful, for example new methods, techniques or practices or new or altered products”
(2014, p. 136). Cohen and Ambrose maintain, “adaptation is one of the most important
issues relevant to the development of creativity” (1999, p. 22). Creative adaptation
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“brings forth transformation within the individual as well as modification, or even
paradigm shifts in the environmental context” (Cohen & Ambrose, 1999, p. 21).
At the research site, the students had opportunities to appropriate and adapt
objects and materials to fulfill their self-initiated creative visions. For this study, a piece
of data was considered to show evidence of Innovative Appropriation and Adaptation if
students creatively appropriated or adapted objects and materials in new and unexpected
ways. Although appropriation and adaption were found in the Doodles on Math Pages
and the Food Creations creative categories, it was determined that they did not show
evidence of this principle because the objects and materials were not used in new or
unexpected ways. Children can often be found doodling on school papers and playing
with food.
48 pieces of data from 7 Creative Categories show evidence of the Innovative
Appropriation and Adaptation fundamental attribute.
Innovative Appropriation and Adaptation in the Amphibian and Insect
Habitats creative category. Data numbers 001 and 002 show how Walter used small
stones as tombstones for bugs and data numbers 005 and 006 show how Ally, Nadine,
Stephanie, and Lydia appropriated containers from our science supply cabinet to use for
their amphibian and insect habitats.
Innovative Appropriation and Adaptation in the Cheerios creative category.
During snack time the students innovatively appropriated and adapted Cheerios in
creative ways. In data numbers 017 and 018, Cooper and Brenda used the hole in the
center of each Cheerios cereal as an integral part of their eating process. Other students
used Cheerios as creative and decorative elements (Appendix A, Data numbers 019, 020,
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021 & 022).
Innovative Appropriation and Adaptation in the Classroom Space creative
category. Data numbers 023 and 025 show students appropriating AV carts and climbing
wall crash pads to create private and personal workspaces in the classroom.
Innovative Appropriation and Adaptation in the Dance creative category.
Data number 027 shows Libby appropriating and adapting sticks and yellow caution tape
for her dance routine.
Innovative Appropriation and Adaptation in the Dyes creative category. The
students used science supplies such as vials, test tubes and small plastic containers
(Appendix A, Data numbers 047, 048, 049, 050, 051 & 052) to hold their liquefied and
frozen creative artifacts.
Innovative Appropriation and Adaptation in the Forts and Spaces creative
category. Many examples of innovative appropriation and adaptation were found in the
Forts and Spaces creative category. Natural elements such as sticks, branches, grass,
rocks, stones, trees, vines were used to fabricate flag poles, gates, brooms, handrails,
chairs, toys, decorative elements, tools and pieces of art (Appendix A, Data numbers 065,
066, 068, 072, 082, 083, 087, 091, 098, 100, 110 & 119). Manmade objects such as balls,
ropes, sleds and duct tape were used as flags, towlines, architectural elements, transports,
and boundary markers (Appendix A, Data numbers 065, 069, 070, 071, 099, 103, 107,
109, 111 & 112).
Innovative Appropriation and Adaptation in the Glue creative category. The
students found new and novel applications for Elmer’s glue, using it as a laminate or
casting material to create stickers or as an expressive medium (Appendix A, Data
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numbers 123, 124, 125, 126, 127, 128 & 129).
Learning through innovative appropriation and adaptation. Learning through
innovative appropriation and adaptation took place at the research site because the
students were allowed to interact with items in ways that deviated from their intended
functions. Students made modifications to classroom supplies. They altered, transformed
and repurposed materials and procedures.
Attribute Six: Creative Transcendence and Aesthetic Enhancements
When my students engaged in self-initiated and self-directed creative learning
some of the resulting artifacts reflected the aesthetic-conceptual amalgam found in the
artworks of contemporary artists. Like contemporary art, the students’ work was often
witty, ironic, surprising and explored new visual and conceptual territories. While the
connections between children and adult artists are well documented (Antoniou &
Hickman, 2012; Engel, 1993; Fineberg, 1997; Fineberg, 2006; Gardner 1980; Gheaus,
2015; Lark-Horovitz, Lewis, & Luca, 1973; Rosenblatt & Winner, 1988), they seldom
examine the similarities or make direct comparisons between children’s creativity and the
work of contemporary artists (Rufo, 2013c; Rufo, 2014a; Rufo, 2014b).
A piece of data was considered to show evidence of the Creative Transcendence
and Aesthetic Enhancements attribute if the students used everyday classroom supplies or
readily available materials found in nature to create beguiling artifacts similar to the work
of contemporary adult artists, or if they added elements to everyday objects in a way that
transformed them conceptually or aesthetically.
13 pieces of data from 7 creative categories show evidence of the Creative
Transcendence and Aesthetic Enhancements fundamental attribute.
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Creative Transcendence and Aesthetic Enhancements in the Cheerios
creative category. Data number 020 shows a Cheerio that a student stained a deep
magenta with a Sharpie maker. This simple creative act heightened the visual impact of a
single Cheerio and at the same time negated its function as a snack food for consumption.
Cereal is eaten en masse whereas this creative artifact emphasized the physicality of a
single Cheerio.
Data number 021 shows how the children decorated my laptop computer
keyboard by carefully placing one Cheerio on each key and a handful on the touchpad.
This was done as a prank, yet as with much modern and contemporary art, it
simultaneously plays with the notions of identity and purpose by creating an aesthetic
transformation through the juxtaposition of disparate objects. The homogeneous circular
shapes of each piece of the Cheerios cereal contrast with, and at the same time echo, the
repetitiveness of the square and rectangular keyboard elements. The placement of the
Cheerios on the keyboard keys renders the computer ineffective while the Cheerios cereal
transform from a snack food into a decorative element.
Creative Transcendence and Aesthetic Enhancements in the Drawing
creative category. Data number 040 shows Libby’s drawing of a single black heart in the
center of a tissue. Heart designs are a common image in the drawings of young girls
(Anning, 2002; Boyatzis & Eades, 1999; Nicholl & McLellan, 2007) yet the way this
drawing was produced was very uncommon. Libby used a black Sharpie marker instead
of a water-based, student grade marker. The Sharpie’s permanent ink is harder to control
than a water-based maker and the rapid absorption rate of a tissue makes it a difficult
surface on which to draw. The delicateness of the tissue imparts the drawing with an
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ephemeral quality. The student was able to completely fill in the center of the heart with
the black, heavy, maker ink and somehow keep the tissue intact without causing any
punctures or tears.
Creative Transcendence and Aesthetic Enhancements in the Dyes creative
category. Data number 048 shows a series of vials that Ally filled with food coloring and
various small objects as part of a science experiment on reflection and refraction. These
pieces evoke apothecary jars used to store and dispense medicine in the eighteenth
century (Tunis, 1999). They also happen to be filled with the same liquids, water and
food coloring, that the contemporary artist Damien Hirst filled his apothecary jars with as
part of the Pharmacy series (Hirst, 2004). Like Hirst, Ally combined the practices of
science with art.
Creative Transcendence and Aesthetic Enhancements in the Food Creations
creative category. Traditionally, children have been admonished for playing with their
food (Elffers, 1997). However, the self-initiated activity of food creation empowers
children to see beyond “the appearance of things at face value” and “creatively see other
possibilities” (Elffers, 1997, p. 8).
Data number 058 shows a ribbon like strand carved from an apple. The student’s
carving was transformative, presenting an apple in a new way. Apples are usually seen as
spherical or when cut, as wedges. However, here a portion of the apple was removed
from its circumferential configuration and displayed in such as way that emphasized the
relationship between the linear arrangement of the stretched out strand of apple peel and
the void left around the girth of the apple. Children will usually use their food to create
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representational imagery as seen in data numbers 057, 059, 060 and 061, whereas this
student used her teeth as a carving tool to create an abstract design.
Creative Transcendence and Aesthetic Enhancements in the Forts and
Spaces creative category. Data numbers 090 and 094 shows items created with masking
tape and a few other materials attached to trees that Libby called her Fort Resort. When
asked what made it a resort she said, “I just wanted something that rhymed” (personal
communication, October 15, 2012). Libby identified a paper plate covered with strips of
tape and marker scribbles as a shield. A paper cup wedged and taped to the fork of an old
maple tree held a handful of wild flowers. A narrow 3-foot by 6-inch band fashioned
from masking tape with a string on either end was suspended between two saplings.
Libby referred to this as her hammock. Nearby loops of masking tape anchored sticks to
the trunks of trees. This was created as a solitary space yet at the same time she
encouraged others to tour her creation. Like artists who create installations, Libby made a
personal space, public.
The contemporary artist Louise Bourgeois is famous for creating installations she
called Cells. Of her Cells Bourgeois said, “When I began building the Cells I wanted to
create my own architecture” (Lorz, 2015, p. 28). Like the masking tape constructions the
student placed around her fort, in her Cells Bourgeois included “hand-made ephemera”
that evoked significant childhood memories (Morris, 2008, p. 236). And like Bourgeois’
personal architecture, Libby likewise constructed an idiosyncratic and distinctive space.
Libby did not share her rationale or motivation for the creation and placement of
these pieces. However, the unexpectedness of this woodland arrangement combined with
the straightforward naming of the objects was in some ways similar to the visual and
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conceptual conflicts generated by the stuffed animal based sculptures by the artist Mike
Kelley. Kelley’s choice of materials, placement of objects and titles given to the works
led viewers to charge the pieces with an unintended “psychological significance”
(Barnes, 1992, p. 125).
Data numbers 117 and 118 show constructions made from branches stacked atop
elongated piles of stone that three fifth grade boys made next to Libby’s Fort Resort.
When I inquired they told me the constructions were “loading bays” (personal
communication, May 31, 2013). They said that they were building their loading bays to
do a sound experiment. Their plan was that one student would stand in one of the bays,
while the other two would stand in the next bay and play their instruments to “see which
bay keeps the sound in it better” (personal communication, May 31, 2013). Watching the
boys construct these bays and experiencing the finished pieces felt calming amidst a
school day otherwise filled with schedules and curricular demands, engendering a
contemplative quality similar to the works of “artists such as Richard Long, Andy
Goldsworthy and James Turrell” (Ede, 2012, p. 43).
Data number 119 shows a young maple tree with a portion of its bark stripped off
by a student. When asked, “What are you doing?” the student replied, “Taking all of the
bark off this tree.” When asked “Why?” he simply said, “Because it looks cool” (personal
communication, May 31, 2013). There was consternation around this activity from some
of the students and faculty who were appalled that a student would do such a thing.
However, most of the children at the school did not have much interaction with nature
during school hours even though an old canal ran through the back of the campus and a
trail meandered around wooded areas surrounding the campus. With the exception of
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students in our classroom, the children were confined to areas of grass, mulch, stone or
blacktop during recess. Very few teachers took their students for a walk on the trail and
although there was the occasional outdoor science lesson, there were seldom any
opportunities for children to freely interact with nature.
From a purely visual perspective, the tree in data number 119 made a dramatic
statement. Its lightly toned shaft contrasted sharply with the dark greens and deep umbers
of the surrounding woods and could be classified as an environmental art piece. Artist
who make environmental art use materials found in nature. Some environmental art
pieces are “dramatic interventions with nature” (Parsons, 2008, p. 129) that involve
moving enormous amounts of earth and boulders as in the work of Michael Heizer and
Robert Smithson while others consist of manipulating small branches, twigs and leaves as
in the work of Andy Goldsworthy. In his book Aesthetics and Nature, Glenn Parsons
raises the question: “Is there something unethical about the treatment of nature in the
creation of environmental artworks?” (2008, p. 130). This question is similar to the
dialogue that transpired during the creation of data number 119.
Creative Transcendence and Aesthetic Enhancements in the Frozen
Creations creative category. Data numbers 120 and 121 show castings of gloved hands
created by freezing latex gloves filled with water and yellow food coloring. The imagery
elicits a peculiar yet intriguing visual effect, much like the 1991 work Self by the artist
Marc Quinn. Quinn’s Self is a “cryogenic sculpture which consisted of a cast of his head
in his own frozen blood” (Martyn, 2002, p.65).
Creative Transcendence and Aesthetic Enhancements in the Head and Hand
Accoutrements creative category. Data number 135 shows a variety of accoutrements
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the students created out of tin foil. Some of these creations were fairly common, such as
simulated beards and moustaches or jewelry such as earrings and bracelets. Others were
prosthetic, such as elongated noses, tentacle-like protuberances and crescent-shaped
objects balanced on noses. The contemporary artist Matthew Barney (Davis, 2006) uses
prosthetics throughout his work and Cindy Sherman employs facial and other prosthetics
in her work to explore the “idea of malleability or fluidity of identity” (Hoban, 2012, p.
77). When our students went to the dining hall for lunch, there were complaints from
some of the faculty about the tin foil accoutrements our students were wearing. It was as
if the accoutrements, especially the facial prosthetics, triggered a discomfort similar to
the unsettling visual effects brought about by Barney’s use of prosthetics in his films or
Sherman’s in her photographs (Lima, 2014).
Learning through creative transcendence and aesthetic enhancements.
Transforming everyday objects in visually and conceptually compelling ways is a
creative approach many contemporary artists such as the ones mentioned above as well as
others including Gabriel Orozco, Tara Donovan, Tayeba Begum Lipi, Jessica
Stockholder and Richard Tuttle employ as part of their creative processes. The data
shows that children will often aesthetically transform existing objects or make curious
artifacts when allowed creative agency.
According to Fineberg: “for both the child and the adult artist, making art is an
affirmation of existence in an often bewildering world” (2006, p. 95). Perhaps
transforming common items such as cereal, tissues, apples and foil into new and strange
artifacts offers a way for children to understand and have a modicum of control in an
often perplexing and unpredictable world.
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Attribute Seven: Communication, Empowerment, and Self-Advocacy
Agency and choice in the classroom allows students to tailor their learning
according to their interests and it is “well documented that learning takes place most
effectively when people are engaged through their interests” (Freedman, 2007, p. 211). In
this environment, students are empowered to take more responsibility of their learning,
which in turns leads to greater communication, interdependence and self-confidence
among the students (Andrews, 2005; Roberts, 2008).
Self-governance in the classroom and ownership of learning led students to
effectively communicate their learning to peers and self-advocate to teachers. These
qualities came through in portions of the data set. A piece of data was considered to show
evidence of the Communication, Empowerment, and Self-Advocacy attribute if it clearly
expressed students effectively communicating with peers, becoming empowered through
their creative endeavors, or advocating for themselves to an adult. 59 pieces of data from
10 Creative Categories show evidence of the Communication, Empowerment, and SelfAdvocacy fundamental attribute.
Communication, Empowerment, and Self-Advocacy in the Amphibian and
Insect Habitats creative category. Groups of girls constructed habitats for salamanders
they found under rocks near the wooded section of the campus during recess (Appendix
A, Data numbers 010 & 013). These girls became empowered in their learning by
engaging in a self-directed activity. They decided to investigate salamanders, which was
a topic of interest, and designed a way to observe them over time by creating habitats to
be stored in the classroom. Additionally, they attached signs reading “Do not touch!” and
“Salamander experiment” to their salamander habitats effectively communicating to
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others in the classroom.
Communication, Empowerment, and Self-Advocacy in the Cheerios creative
category. In public school classrooms “external regulations for teachers have subjected
students to increased compliance to teacher authority” (Alderman & MacDonald, 2015, p.
53). Although the research for this study took place at an independent school that was not
subject to high-stakes testing, there was a growing movement to raise enrollment by
competing with the local public schools via increased academic standards. This practice
resulted in classrooms dedicated to direct teaching methods with the teachers acting as
the authority figures and students compliant subjects. This increased teacher authority
meant students where not allowed to access classroom materials and supplies without
teacher permission. Data number 021, however, shows students creatively empowering
themselves by decorating the teacher’s computer with Cheerios.
Communication, Empowerment, and Self-Advocacy in the Classroom Space
creative category. Data numbers 023, 024, 025 and 026 show some of the ways students
implemented ownership of the classroom space and were empowered by exhibiting
autonomy through creative means. In data number 023 a student used various classroom
items to set up a personal learning space. In data number 024, a few girls decided to paint
a bookcase. In data number 025, a group of students created a private rehearsal space and
in data number 026 students had access to draw and write on the whiteboard when they
arrived to school in the morning.
Communication, Empowerment, and Self-Advocacy in the Drawing creative
category. Data numbers 038, 042, 044, and 045 students advocating for themselves to
fulfill their creative visions. In data number 038, Lydia created a drawing, decided she
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wanted it displayed on the ceiling and requested that Eddie help her with the task. Data
numbers 042, 044, and 045 show the personal studio space Ally asked me to help her set
up so that she could work on and develop a series of drawings.
Communication, Empowerment, and Self-Advocacy in the Forts and Spaces
creative category. There were many opportunities for students to effectively
communicate their learning to peers as they constructed and enhanced their forts and the
surrounding areas. Data numbers 066, 081 and 096 show how the students communicated
and shared fort building ideas and techniques. Games were created and rules established
in data numbers 071, 084 and 088. Students found creative ways to present their forts to
fellow students in data numbers 090 and 116 and signify fort affiliations in data number
095. Students worked together and brainstormed ways to solve problems (Appendix A,
Data numbers 096 and 103) and developed a series of paths so messengers could quickly
and efficiently send communiqués between forts (Appendix A, Data number 114).
The students were empowered as they took the initiative to solve problems such
as accessing forts built atop steep hillsides (Appendix A, Data numbers 069 and 071) or
move heavy objects (Appendix A, Data numbers 070, 092, 110 and 111).
The students were allowed to move freely throughout the fort areas and exhibited
responsible behavior by heeding the call to return to the classroom when recess was over
(Appendix A, Data number 080). Students set up personally expressive spaces (Appendix
A, Data number 094) and developed ways to barter for building materials (Appendix A,
Data number 115).
Students advocated for themselves by requesting they be allowed to explore areas
beyond the forts to obtain materials and resources (Appendix A, Data numbers 067 and
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102) or by creating ways to engage in safe, adventurous play (Appendix A, Data number
072).
Communication, Empowerment, and Self-Advocacy in the Frozen Creations
creative category. Data numbers 120 through 122 show frozen artifacts the students
created by having access to the classroom mini-fridge. They were not required to first ask
permission and could use it in a way that best served their creative visions. Since they
could store their frozen creations long-term they were able to experiment and see how
their frozen artifacts changed and progressed over time.
Communication, Empowerment, and Self-Advocacy in the Head and Hand
Accoutrements creative category. The school at which this study took place had a
comprehensive dress code policy. The policy addressed articles of clothing and other
items not allowed such as piercings and unnaturally colored hair. The dress code also
stated “Attire that is distracting to the learning environment” is not allowed and
“Students in all three divisions are expected to dress in a manner that is neat, clean and
appropriate.” These general statements allowed the teachers and administration to make
broad interpretations of what they deemed appropriate and inappropriate dress. Data
number 131 and 135 show Nicole and a group of other fourth grade students being
empowered to make creative choices that altered the way they looked without first asking
permission. In both instances they kept their accoutrements intact after they left our
classroom until other faculty members asked Nicole to remove the Cheerios cereal from
her hair and the group of fourth grade students to remove the tinfoil from their heads,
hands, arms and faces.
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Communication, Empowerment, and Self-Advocacy in the Studio and
Supply Area creative category. The studio/supply area in the back of classroom
eventually became a space over which the students had complete control. Data number
213 shows the art carts with new supplies organized in bins. Data number 214 shows
students using materials from the art carts with supplies obtained from the nearby science
supply cabinets. Data number 215 shows how the carts and tables looked after a few days
and data number 216 shows a table in the studio/supply area in mid-April. The students
were able to access and organize the materials and interact with the studio space that best
fit their creative needs and desires.
Communication, Empowerment, and Self-Advocacy in the Table Marks
creative category. Data numbers 217, 218 and 219 show one way the students were
empowered by having ownership of the classroom. Our students “marked and decorated
the walls, tables, floor, and ceiling according to their personal needs and interests” and
“eventually our classroom reflected the collective aesthetic” (Rufo, 2014c, p. 20) of our
student body. In data number 217 students drew diagrams on a table for a game they
created. Data number 218 shows a student drawing on the table and data number 219
shows students using the tips of a scissors to engrave designs on the table.
Communication, Empowerment, and Self-Advocacy in the Tools creative
category. Throughout the history of American schooling there have been teachers and
administrators who resisted new or alternative writing technologies. In the book
Rethinking Education in the Age of Technology: The Digital Revolution and Schooling in
America there are listed a series of concerns by educators that highlight this point. Quotes
reflecting this attitude are presented from 1815 such as “Students today depend on paper
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too much…(t)hey can’t clean a slate properly. What will they do when they run out of
paper?” to 1987 such as “If students turn in papers they did on the computer, I require
them to write them over in long hand because I don’t believe they do the computer work
on their own” (Collins & Halverson, 2009, p. 30).
At the research site, teachers and administrators had specific expectations and
rules guiding the ways students engaged in writing in the classroom. Students were
expected to use pencils to take notes and write rough drafts. For many years the fifth
grade students were required to write final drafts in ballpoint pen. Once classrooms were
outfitted with laptop computer carts, students were allowed to compose final drafts on the
computer but expected to write drafts by hand. However, data numbers 220, 221 and 222
show how Cooper and a classmate made the decision to create alternate writing tools
during math class. They made rudimentary fountain pens fashioned from toothpicks and
marker ink and used them to solve their math problems.
Communication, Empowerment, and Self-Advocacy in the Whiteboard
creative category. Since 1817, blackboards (and more recently whiteboards) dominate
the front of classrooms and serve as an extension of the teacher’s authority (Rufo,
2013d). In other classrooms at the research site, children were not allowed access to the
whiteboards unless they first obtained teacher permission and even then they were
usually required to be used solely for academic purposes. In the classroom where this
study took place, however, teachers and students has equal access to the whiteboard. Data
numbers 240, 243, 244, 246, 248 and 249 show how the students became empowered by
using the whiteboard for their creative expressions. They covered the whiteboard with
colorful drawings of large cartoon heads, comical teacher portraits and abstract designs.
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Data numbers 241, 242, 245, 247, 251, 252 and 253 show how the students used the
white board as a tool to communicate with one another. They made sign-up lists, weather
reports, humorous statements, one-liner cartoons, surveys, wrote messages and stories.
Learning through communication, empowerment, and self-advocacy. The
students at the research site took ownership of their creative learning as well as their
learning environment. They self-directed their movements in the classroom, accessed
supplies, tested, and explored the materials to use them in new and innovative ways.
Attribute Eight: Conflict Within the Status Quo
Conflicts arise with the prevailing educational status quo when students attempt to
engage in self-initiated creativity or exhibit agency in their learning (Amabile, 1998;
Clover, 2006). At the school where this study took place, the status quo was made
manifest by protocols and procedures that regulated every aspect of the students’ school
day. Students were not given choices in their learning or a voice in their educational
experiences (Rufo, 2014d). Classrooms were “designed to ensure compliance with direct
instruction methodologies” and students “were seldom given opportunities for
autonomous actions during the school day” (p. 393). It comes as no surprise then that all
253 pieces of data from the 27 creative categories showed evidence of the Conflict
Within the Status Quo fundamental attribute.
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Amphibian and Insect Habitats
creative category. Walter, the student who decided to create a cemetery for a spider
(Appendix A, Data numbers 001 and 002), would have been asked by other faculty at the
school to play elsewhere because his activity was in the same location where teachers
were talking. The students who created the amphibian and insect habitats (Appendix A,
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Data numbers 003 - 016) would have not been allowed to take containers from the
science supply cabinet, decorate their habitats with flowers picked from beds around
campus, write the names of their pets on the habitats or choose where to place the
habitats in the classroom.
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Cheerios creative category. In the other
classrooms at the school, students were not allowed to eat their snacks in creative ways
(Appendix A, Data numbers 017 & 018) or use their snacks as a creative medium
(Appendix A, Data numbers 019, 020 & 22), especially if it involved an item belonging
to a teacher (Appendix A, Data number 021).
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Classroom Space creative category.
The administration expected all students to work at desks and frowned upon the idea of
giving students options in how they wanted to go about their learning (Appendix A, Data
numbers 023 & 25). Upon arriving, the school expected students to prepare for the day
and begin working rather than socializing while drawing on the whiteboard (Appendix A,
Data numbers 026). Students were not allowed to decorate furniture unless it was part of
a teacher initiated or school sanctioned project (Appendix A, Data number 024).
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Dance creative category. Throughout
the grade levels students were scolded if they did not adhere to predetermined schedules
or exhibit school specific decorum. Bodily movement and positioning was regulated and
site dependent. For example, while in the hallways students were expected to be silent,
look straight ahead, stay on the right side of the hallway and walk at a brisk pace without
pausing. In classrooms, students were required to use “indoor voices” and move
according to teacher directives. Data number 027 shows Libby violating the
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aforementioned expectations as she chose to engage in a self-initiated dance during a prescheduled transition time.
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Doodles on Math Pages creative
category. In the other grade level classrooms, marking homework sheets or handouts
aside from the intended purpose was frowned upon (Appendix A, Data numbers 028-032)
and doodles were considered a distraction from learning, defacement of school property
and a sign of disrespect.
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Drawings creative category. At the
school in which the research site was located it was acceptable for students to create selfinitiated drawings or designs during indoor recess times but not during class time
(Appendix A, Data numbers 033 - 038) and students were not allowed to use creative
media in non-traditional ways (Appendix A, Data numbers 039 - 046).
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Dyes creative category. In other
classrooms students were not allowed to use science supplies for creative purposes
(Appendix A, Data numbers 051 & 052) or combine science and art according to their
own interests (Appendix A, Data numbers 047 - 050).
Students in the elementary grades were expected to use only school sanctioned
playground equipment during recess (Appendix A, Data numbers 053 - 055). When they
came into the classroom hand sanitizer was only to be used for cleaning hands before
going to the dining hall for lunch (Appendix A, Data number 054).
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Food Creations creative category.
While at the dining hall, students were scolded if they used food and tableware for
creative purposes (Appendix A, Data numbers 056 - 064).
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Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Forts and Spaces creative category.
During recess children were expected to remain within the fenced playground area and
over the years teachers had lodged complaints with the administration about our student’s
use of the wooded areas surrounding campus (Appendix A, Data numbers 065 - 119). It
was especially disconcerting to some when our students integrated manmade objects
(Appendix A, Data numbers 069 – 072, 076, 085, 087, 090, 094, 095, 099, 101, 102, 103,
107 & 109-113) or made adjustments to the natural setting (Appendix A, Data numbers
067, 073, 074, 075, 077, 078, 083, 086, 089. 091, 092, 093, 096, 097, 108, 117, 118 &
119).
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Frozen Creations creative category.
Other faculty who kept items in our classroom mini-fridge complained when the students
were allowed to adjust the temperature and use it to make and store their frozen creations
(Appendix A, Data numbers 120 - 122).
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Glue creative category. School supplies
such as glue were controlled by teachers and used for teacher directed projects. It was
considered wasteful for children to use school supplies for personal creative projects in
experimental or playful ways (Appendix A, Data numbers 123- 130).
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Head and Hand Accoutrements
creative category. As previously mentioned, the school at which this study took place
had an extensive dress code policy. Making adjustments to one’s appearance that
deviated from the dress code was only allowed during school sanctioned celebrations and
activities such as the Halloween parade, Home Coming or during the Track and Field
Day event. The head and hand accoutrements the students created in data numbers 131-
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137 were considered a distraction from their learning.
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Masking and Duct Tape Creations
creative category. Most classrooms at the research site had cellophane tape for students
to use and a roll or two of masking tape to be used only with special permission from a
teacher. Using masking tape or duct tape for student initiated creative explorations like
those found in data numbers 138 - 156 was not permitted.
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Math Class Creations creative
category. Self-initiated creativity in math class was considered a deviation from
curricular objectives. The administration wanted a “targeted approach to instructional
design” and expected that “instructional time will be preserved, used efficiently and
respected as valuable time” (personal communication June 14, 2013). Data numbers 157160 were in direct violation of these expectations as they show students engaged in selfinitiated creativity during math class.
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Mixtures and Potions creative
category. Data numbers 161-169 show students using supplies designated for science
class to playfully experiment with mixtures and create imaginary potions during indoor
recess times. Most classrooms only allowed students to use specified items that were easy
to manage such as board games, blocks, crayons and scrap paper during indoor recess.
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Movies creative category. The
administration stated that, “digital technology will be used for educational purposes only
during appropriate times” (personal communication June 14, 2013). However, data
numbers 170 and 171 show children using digital technology to film and edit their own
movies during recess.
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Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Names creative category. Although
most teachers allowed students to draw during indoor recess times, the children were not
allowed to use any new materials that were set aside for teacher-assigned projects and
activities. Data number 172 shows students using multiple sheets of new construction
paper and markers to create oversized nametags. Students were also expected to focus on
the task at hand and not deviate from the objective of a lesson. Data number 173 shows
Walter creating a name logo, which he then shared with his friends during math class.
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Painting creative category. Data
numbers 174-187 show a variety of ways in which the simple act of painting came into
conflict with the status quo during this study. Even in the art room, making expressive
abstractions or applying paint with hands was discouraged (Appendix A, Data numbers
174- 176 &178).
There was little time set aside for student-directed work in the other classrooms
such as starting a painting contest (Appendix A, Data number 177). When there was,
children were not allowed to paint the furniture (Appendix A, Data number 179) or
explore alternative painting methodologies (Appendix A, Data numbers 180-183, 186 &
187). Also, the school expected art materials be used for predetermined projects and
handled in traditional ways whereas data numbers 184 and 185 show students
experimenting with paint mixtures.
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Sculpture and 3D Designs creative
category. When the students in our classroom made three-dimensional objects they often
did so using unconventional materials such as paper cups (Appendix A, Data numbers
188 & 189), tissues, markers and tape (Appendix A, Data numbers 190 & 193), glue,
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food coloring and plastic wrap (Appendix A, Data number 195), bits of plastic, glass,
rubber and small stones (Appendix A, Data number 196), and mud with sticks (Appendix
A, Data number 197).
Some of the objects were made with conventional materials such as paper
airplanes (Appendix A, Data numbers 191 & 194) or figures made from Silly Putty
(Appendix A, Data number 192) but were created and played with during direct
instruction time.
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Sounds and Rhythms creative
category. For the most part, children are expected to be quiet in schools (Brooks, 2012;
Leafgren, 2011). Teachers require their students to be quiet as they walk in hallways and
transition in and out of the elementary classrooms (Leafgren, 2011; Prior, 2014). The
customary thinking is that “good classroom management involves quiet classrooms”
(Williams, 2009, p. 119). At the research site most of the teachers adopted this traditional
approach. Upon arriving in their classrooms in the morning, students were given
assignments and tasks to accomplish; students who created the artifacts seen in this study
arrived at a classroom that was bustling with activity. They were allowed to socialize and
take part in various student led games and activities before heading off to the gym for
their Physical Education class.
A favorite morning activity was playing handmade percussive instruments
(Appendix A, Data numbers 198-203). This loud and energetic activity made our room
sound quite different from the other classrooms throughout the school.
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the String creative category. As with some
of the other self-initiated creative activities, the children used string as a creative medium
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during class time as well as during recess time. Other teachers did not allow their students
to engage in self-initiated creative endeavors during class time nor did they allow them to
experiment with classroom supplies in alternate ways. As seen in this study, our student’s
creations included non-traditional applications. String was used to make objects
(Appendix A, Data numbers 204 & 205), as a meditative device (Appendix A, Data
numbers 209 & 210), for experiments (Appendix A, Data numbers 208, 211 & 212) or
simply a medium to manipulate and explore (Appendix A, Data numbers 206 & 207).
Conflict Within the Status Quo in the Studio/Supply Area, Table Marks,
Tools, Toys and Games, Weapons, and Whiteboard creative categories. Many
consider teacher authority and control imperative for classrooms to be effective and
successful learning environments (Krych, 2015; Savage & Savage, 2010). Teachers are
expected to be in charge of managing student movement in the classroom and arranging
furniture within the space (Duncanson, 2014; Hare, L. P., & Murawski, 2015; Simpson,
Bakken, & Reuter, 2013). Teachers control access to objects such as whiteboards and use
them as behavior modification tools (Cuban, 1993).
The school at which the research took place adhered to these belief systems and as
previously mentioned, recess was a highly controlled activity where most children were
required to remain in specified areas. However, the children in our classroom had agency
in how the interacted with the classroom space during recess. There was an area in the
back of the classroom the students were in charge of and they organized it in ways they
felt best supported their creative visions (Appendix A, Data numbers 213 & 214).
However, this space appeared disorganized and chaotic to many of the other faculty and
administration (Appendix A, Data numbers 215 & 216).
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The students were allowed to mark the tables, but then the administration
eventually had the tables painted over (Appendix A, Data numbers 217-219). The
students made their own writing tools during math class (Appendix A, Data numbers
220-222, 226 & 227) and objects made from natural elements found in the woods
(Appendix A, Data numbers 223 & 225) during recess.
The children created toys and games without first obtaining school approval
(Appendix A, Data numbers 228 & 232). They made weapons for target shooting
(Appendix A, Data number 233, 234 & 238), movie props (Appendix A, Data numbers
235, 236 & 239) and self-defense (Appendix A, Data number 237).
Our students had full access to the whiteboard where they were allowed to draw
pictures (Appendix A, Data numbers 240, 241, 243, 246, 248, 249 & 250), make
statements (Appendix A, Data numbers 244 & 245) and communicate ideas (Appendix
A, Data numbers 242, 247, 251, 252 & 253).
Learning through Conflict Within the Status Quo. The 253 self-initiated
creative artifacts in this data set came into conflict with the traditional hierarchies,
structures, and practices of the school at which the research site was located. When
viewed through the lens of the status quo, the way the children produced their creative
artifacts, the materials they used to produce them, the time and context in which they
were produced, were considered as having no value or detrimental to student learning and
contradictory to the school’s expectations. When the children engaged in creative
activities that challenged traditional schooling practices, learning took place in ways that
were unexpected, underappreciated and often went unnoticed.
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CHAPTER 6 - Discussion: How the Eight Attributes Inform Pedagogy in the
Elementary Classroom
Introduction
For many years the faculty of the school at which the research site was located
took pride in the fact that, unlike public school teachers, they were allowed to generate
their own curriculum. These teachers created themes, lessons, and activities to meet the
academic needs and interests of the students. They could adapt and adjust their
approaches and methodologies based on the dynamics of their students from year to year.
Some teachers took advantage of this flexibility more than others. The majority of
teachers repeated the curriculum they developed years earlier and only made slight
revisions year to year. Eddie and I made considerable revisions each year and at times
created completely new lessons and activities based on student interests, attitudes, and
learning styles.
In recent years, however, a completely new administrative team was hired who
decided to standardize the curriculum and required teachers to use commercially
produced educational programs and traditional teaching methodologies. During the 20122013 school year it was evident that teacher autonomy was rapidly becoming a thing of
the past and, as stated in the introductory chapter of this dissertation, my time to practice
a progressive educational methodology was quickly drawing to a close. Fortunately,
during the time of this study the commercially produced programs were not yet instituted
at all grade levels and my teaching partner and I had one more year to surreptitiously
allow our students to engage in self-directed and self-initiated creative learning.
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An examination of the self-initiated creative processes and artifacts of the
students at the research site provided insight into the ways children learn when they are
empowered to have agency in their learning and ownership of their learning space.
During the initial analysis phase of this study the 253 pieces of photographic and video
data in the data set were organized into 27 creative categories. A further analysis of the
data set revealed eight fundamental attributes that emerged as features of the self-initiated
creativity of children. The Analysis section specified how various pieces of data showed
evidence of these eight fundamental attributes.
An additional examination of the data revealed six essential principles that were
in place that allowed for the eight fundamental attributes of self-initiated creativity to
become evident in our classroom. Each piece of data that demonstrated evidence of the
eight fundamental attributes happened within the context of one or more of the following
essential principles:
•
Time to engage in self-directed learning
•
Agency to self-navigate through indoor and outdoor spaces
•
Access to classroom materials and supplies
•
Autonomy to make choices and decisions
•
Freedom to explore unanticipated learning opportunities
•
Ability to deviate from preplanned curricular activities and lessons
This chapter will discuss the pedagogical implications of the eight fundamental
attributes of self-initiated creativity and six essential principles. Students engaged in the
various modes of learning connected with the eight fundamental attributes because six
essential pedagogical principles were in place. The students had time to engage in self-
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directed learning, agency to self-navigate through indoor and outdoor spaces, access to
classroom materials and supplies, autonomy to make choices and decisions, freedom to
explore unanticipated learning opportunities, and the ability to deviate from preplanned
curricular activities and lessons.
Attribute One: The Characteristics and Pedagogical Implications of Serendipitous
Learning
The learning that took place from serendipitous events was atypical. When Walter
created the insect cemetery during recess he made the choice to explore the grassy
patches near where the teachers were gathered rather than play on the fields, in the fort
areas or on the playground areas with the other children (Appendix A, Data numbers 001
& 002). When Libby was allowed to explore outdoor spaces she created a habitat for a
worm (Appendix A, Data number 015). Libby also choreographed her own ribbon dance
because she was allowed to disengage from the classroom schedule and engage in selfdirected learning (Appendix A, Data number 027). Another student stumbled upon a way
to create thumbprints while doodling on a math handout (Appendix A, Data number 032).
The children discovered new drawing techniques because they had access to classroom
supplies, autonomy to make decisions in how they used the materials, and time to
playfully experiment with the medium (Appendix A, Data numbers 036, 039 & 044).
Nadine, along with a group of girls in one of the forts, found new ways to create dyes
because they were allowed to investigate accidental discoveries and explore unintended
creative elements (Appendix A, Data numbers 054 & 055). Lunch became a time to
combine the acts of eating with art making (Appendix A, Data number 060). Students
who were allowed to play in the wooded areas at the edges of the school’s campus found
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that a low, horizontally hanging branch worked well as a bouncy toy, a vine as a swing,
and a curved stick as a broom (Appendix A, Data numbers 082, 098, 100). Other children
happened upon old building materials and used them to enhance their fort structures
(Appendix A, Data numbers 101 & 109). Repetitive actions such as movement between
forts developed into a networked path system (Appendix A, Data number 0114) and
absentminded actions such as tapping a rock on a tree trunk generated into a piece of
artwork (Appendix A, Data number 119). Having access to classroom materials and
being able to experiment with those materials resulted in students using glue to make
realistic looking edibles (Appendix A, Data numbers 126 & 128). Having time to play
and experiment with materials such as masking tape and duct tape led to unanticipated
sculptures and new designs (Appendix A, Data numbers 140, 144 & 149). Serendipitous
learning meant students stumbled upon new painting techniques. Libby’s expressionist
strokes dictated her painting’s themes and meanings (Appendix A, Data number 174), her
random color mixtures generated surprising results (Appendix A, Data number 182), and
her playful experiments created new textural effects (Appendix A, Data number 186).
It is characteristic to serendipitous learning that students did not learn in the
traditional sense. Their learning could not be easily quantified, assessed, tested,
categorized, standardized or graded. Instead, they learned to be explorers, discoverers,
and risk takers. They learned to look at materials in new and diverse ways and to
critically analyze creative techniques and methodologies.
The essential principles described later in this chapter provided a context where
serendipity played a role in the students’ creative learning. Each artifact produced (insect
cemetery, worm habitat, fingerprint doodle guide, scribble drawing, mixed media
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drawing, dyed tissue balls, chicken patty caricature, faux soup and chocolates, masking
tape platypus, wallet, and pouch, abstract expressionist paintings) or object appropriated
and its purpose reinvented (tree branch bouncy toy, wooden pallet as ladder, tree trunk as
sculpture) was clever, innovative, imaginative, inventive, unique, and thought provoking.
Attribute Two: The Characteristics and Pedagogical Implications of Process as
Important as Product
Students created compelling artworks because they were allowed to spend time in
self-directed learning, explore the limits of materials and techniques, and engage in
opened-ended creative processes (Appendix A, Data numbers 036, 041, 042, 044 & 054).
Some of the resulting artifacts even resembled the work of contemporary adult artists
(Appendix A, Data numbers 048, 058 & 207). Other open-ended processes led children to
discover ancient tools such as a mortar and pestle (Appendix A, Data numbers 053, 055).
Some processes provided opportunities for children to work together toward a common
goal. A group of girls developed techniques to gather and transport large stones and
precisely position them on the floor of their fort (Appendix A, Data numbers 086, 091,
092, 093). Ample time for students to experiment with common classroom materials such
as tempera paint, markers, tape, string and glue led to new uses, applications, and visual
expressions (Appendix A, Data numbers 053, 055, 137, 175, 176, 178, 180, 181, 209).
Having access to materials and supplies and the autonomy to make choices and decisions
allowed students to develop their own writing tools and techniques (Appendix A, Data
numbers 220, 221). When Cooper and a classmate created their own fountain pens, they
ended up engaging more closely in the math lesson because they used their own writing
instruments to fulfill the task. The activity of taking notes in math class was made more
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meaningful, relevant, and interesting because they had a role in how they went about their
learning.
These processes gave the students the confidence to tackle problems on their own.
Freely exploring deepened students’ learning because, as with much of adult learning,
children learn from trial and error repeating processes and adjusting them as they
progress.
Attribute Three: The Characteristics and Pedagogical Implications of CrossPollination
In order for cross-pollination to occur students need to work in contexts that
encourage self-directed learning where they are free to openly communicate, share, and
critique their creative ideas and artifacts with their peers. At the research site, the students
readily mimicked, appropriated and copied the work of others to supplement and enhance
their own creative visions. They moved about the learning space in ways that best suited
their creative needs. They took advantage of moments of surprise and made use of
unexpected results.
A burst of excitement and urgency flooded the classroom as the students created
their amphibian and insect habitats (Appendix A, Data numbers 004-007 & 015). What
began as a simple search for pill bugs turned into a flurry of activity as one thing led to
another and students expressed their thoughts and ideas in rapid-fire progression.
Students shared the best places to procure inchworms and salamanders and the most
suitable containers to use for their habitats. Some students researched how to keep the
amphibians and insects alive while others focused on the aesthetics of the habitats
arranging the flowers and grasses in a visually pleasing way and writing the amphibian
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and insect names in clear block letters around the outside of the plastic containers that
housed the habitats.
Creative ideas also permeated the student fort community. The most heavily used
pathways between forts became established trails and trade routes (Appendix A, Data
number 114) along which markets sprang up (Appendix A, Data numbers 115 & 116).
Non-traditional creative materials became popular. Once one student started to
use food coloring as a creative medium, others soon followed combining it with
additional materials and creative methods (Appendix A, Data numbers 048 & 050). After
a student brought in a rope to create a rope tow, many more ropes were brought in and
used in a variety of ways during the fort building activities (Appendix A, Data numbers
069, 071, 099, 103, 107, 110, 111 & 112). There was a similar collective fascination with
using the classroom mini-fridge as a freezer to make molds using latex gloves, water, and
food coloring which developed into an assortment of frozen creative experiments
(Appendix A, Data numbers 120, 121 & 122).
Glue was a popular creative commodity. Students observed each other’s artistic
methods using glue as a laminate, sculptural material, and/or decorative element
(Appendix A, Data numbers 123, 124, 125, 127 & 129).
The sudden way in which the children swarmed around a box of tinfoil to fashion
the head and hand accoutrements was perhaps the most dramatic example of creative
cross-pollination using a non-traditional creative material (Appendix A, Data numbers
135 & 136).
More common classroom materials such as string and tape were employed for
uncommon creative uses as students shared and observed what they made (Appendix A,
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Data numbers 138-142, 144, 146, 205, 206, 208, 211 & 212). Creative cross-pollination
happened throughout the day as students shared ideas during class time (Appendix A,
Data numbers 157-159, 218 & 219) and free time (Appendix A, Data numbers 161-164 &
168).
The six essential principles provided an ideal context for the ripple effect of
creative learning brought about by cross-pollination. The students had time to engage in
self-directed learning and the agency to self-navigate in outdoor as well as indoor
learning spaces. This brought about learning possibilities otherwise unattainable when
students are required to follow prescribed lesson plans or when their interactions within
educational spaces are regulated and systematized. Having access to classroom materials
and the autonomy to choose how to use these supplies opened up new possibilities to
alternate and innovative uses and applications. Flexible scheduling provided time for
students to explore unanticipated learning opportunities and deviate from preplanned
curricular activities and lessons when opportune learning moments presented themselves.
Moments of cross-pollination led to new research, intrinsic motivation,
cooperative group work, innovative use of classroom materials, heightened imagination,
inspiration, inventiveness and a passion for learning.
Attribute Four: The Characteristics and Pedagogical Implications of Autonomous
Group Learning
Time to engage in self-directed learning is perhaps the most important of the six
essential principles when it comes to successful autonomous group learning. The data
that showed evidence of the autonomous group learning fundamental attribute happened
during times when the students had the greatest amount of agency and self-governance
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such as when they arrived in the morning, during recess and while waiting to be
dismissed at the end of the day.
During recess, students spent time working together inventing new creative
methods and producing artifacts such as water-based colors from marker cores or dyes
from plants (Appendix A, Data numbers 051, 053 & 055). The fort building activities
provided many opportunities for the students to engage in autonomous group learning
because the fort activities included a large social component. The students collectively
figured out how to use natural and found items to construct flagpoles, gates, brooms, rope
tows, ropes courses or design roof structures and insulation (Appendix A, Data numbers
065-074, 078, 081, 082, 089, 108, 109 & 112). Students formed self-governing
communities, collected significant artifacts and created games and amusements
(Appendix A, Data numbers 080, 084, 085, 087, 088, 094, 098, 116, 153, 170 & 171).
Working and playing together, the students were able to solve problems (Appendix A,
Data numbers 096, 102, 103, 110, 111 & 115).
Inside, the students worked on ways to enhance store bought toys and classroom
supplies (Appendix A, Data number 151, 184 &185). They played games and formed
drum circles when they arrived to school in the morning or while waiting to be dismissed
at the end of the day. (Appendix A, Data numbers 199, 203 & 229).
According to the data set, the one time the students engaged in autonomous group
learning besides recess and transition times was during a math lesson when Cooper and a
friend worked creatively with string (Appendix A, Data number 207).
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Attribute Five: The Characteristics and Pedagogical Implications of Innovative
Appropriation and Adaptation
The students innovatively appropriated and adapted objects to fit their creative
needs because they had access to classroom materials and supplies and autonomy to
make decisions on how they went about using the materials and supplies.
Outside students used items such as pebbles to make tombstones and sticks to
make snack time more interesting. They gathered branches, grass, rocks, stones, trees and
vines to create flag poles, gates, brooms, handrails, chairs, toys, tools and pieces of art
(Appendix A, Data numbers 001, 002, 017, 018, 065, 066, 068 - 072, 082, 083, 087, 091,
098, 100, 110, 119).
Items found in the classroom were appropriated and adapted for creative purposes
as well. Science containers were used for insect and amphibian habitats, Cheerios cereal
as a decorative element, classroom furnishings to create workspaces, vials and test tubes
as vitrines to hold creative artifacts. Elmer’s glue was used as a laminate, a casting
material and an expressive medium (Appendix A, Data numbers 005, 006, 019 - 023,
025, 047- 052 & 123 - 129).
Some creative artifacts were formed using a combination of man-made and
natural materials from inside and outside the classroom such as caution tape and sticks
for a dance routine. Students formed other objects by integrating man-made objects into
their forts. Branches were used to store and hold rolls of duct tape. Deflated kick balls,
ropes and sleds became flags, towlines, architectural elements, transports, and boundary
markers (Appendix A, Data numbers 027, 065, 069, 070, 071, 076, 099, 103, 107, 109,
111 & 112).
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During these episodes of innovative appropriation and adaptation the students
learned to think outside the box. They exercised their creative thinking skills because
they were required to find solutions to their creative visions only using objects available
to them.
Attribute Six: The Characteristics and Pedagogical Implications of Creative
Transcendence and Aesthetic Enhancements
Perhaps the most unconventional creative artifacts in the data set were produced
when the students made works that transcended the school’s visual vocabulary or when
they choose to aesthetically enhance an object. When they combined materials or altered
objects in unexpected ways, the students created strikingly new artifacts from mundane
objects (Appendix A, Data numbers 020, 120, 121 & 135). They transgressed cultural
norms (Appendix A, Data numbers 021, 119, 120, 121 & 135), made unexpected artistic
choices (Appendix A, Data number 040), blended science with art (Appendix A, Data
numbers 048 & 135), offered conceptual transformations (Appendix A, Data numbers
058 & 135), created new environments (Appendix A, Data numbers 090, 094, 117, 118)
and suggested alternative ways of seeing (Appendix A, Data number 119).
These works were the most unconventional but also the most visually and
conceptually stimulating. The students were free to choose materials, decide on
techniques, take time to experiment with alternate artistic processes, and self-navigate
spaces that resulted in creative artifacts that did not reflect the artistic practices of the
other elementary classrooms or the school’s art department. The students deviated from
the school’s artistic customs and transcended its aesthetic practices.
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Attribute Seven: The Characteristics and Pedagogical Implications of
Communication, Empowerment, and Self-Advocacy
Communication skills are practiced as early as Pre-K in the school where this
study took place. However, public speaking engagements are highly ritualized
performances where students read pre-scripted and rehearsed texts. Besides recess, the
students rarely had opportunities to communicate with each other about things that were
of interest to them. There were also few occasions for students to exhibit agency or
become empowered through acts of self-advocacy.
In the data set the self-initiated creative artifacts show examples of students
communicating, self-advocating, and becoming empowered in their learning. While
creating the insect and amphibian habitats, the students had time to engage in selfdirected learning (Appendix A, Data numbers 010 & 013). They had the agency to selfnavigate though indoor and outdoor spaces which allowed them to find various insects
and amphibians. They had access to classroom supplies and were able to choose the
containers they felt provided the best housing for their habitats. They shared ideas and
communicated research they found online.
Students empowered themselves by transgressing traditional power structures and
hierarchies when they placed the Cheerios cereal on the teacher’s laptop computer
keyboard (Appendix A, Data number 021). Students demonstrated agency, became
empowered, and communicated with each other as they took ownership of the classroom
space by setting up private and shared workspaces (Appendix A, Data numbers 023 &
025), painting a bookcase (Appendix A, Data number 024), having control over a portion
of the classroom space (Appendix A, Data numbers 213-216), marking and decorating
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the classroom furniture (Appendix A, Data numbers 217-219), and having full access to
the white board (Appendix A, Data number 026).
Time and ownership of the classroom space provided one student with the means
to discover and explore the graphic possibilities of a modeling compound as she set up
her own short term studio space (Appendix A, Data numbers 042, 044 & 045) and
another to curate the classroom by hanging her drawings on the ceiling (Appendix A,
Data number 038). Both of these students advocated for themselves as they requested
changing the function and appearance of our classroom.
The fort activities were replete with examples of students having time for selfdirected learning, navigating outdoor spaces, making decisions, and exploring
unanticipated learning opportunities. Students engaged in learning that was meaningful,
relevant and fun from the very first day that they began constructing forts (Appendix A,
Data numbers 066 & 067), integrating ropes into their architectures (Appendix A, Data
numbers 069 - 072), independently moving about the woods (Appendix A, Data number
080), helping one another with construction (Appendix A, Data number 081), creating
games (Appendix A, Data numbers 084 & 088), producing amusements (Appendix A,
Data numbers 090, 094 & 116), collectively finding solutions (Appendix A, Data
numbers 092, 096, 102, 103, 110, 111 & 115) and communicating affiliations (Appendix
A, Data number 095).
Being allowed to experiment with and tinker with the classroom refrigerator was
an empowering experience for many of the children (Appendix A, Data numbers 120122). They were given time to investigate how solutions and objects changed when
exposed to cold temperatures. The students exhibited ownership of the refrigerator by
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adjusting the temperature dial to their liking and using it to store their frozen creations
and self-initiated science and art investigations.
The students took ownership of their appearance when they decorated their hair
with Cheerios cereal (Appendix A, Data number 131) and attached tin foil appendages to
their faces (Appendix A, Data number 135).
At the beginning of the school year the students regarded the whiteboard as the
sole domain of the teachers. Soon, however, they came to find that each member of our
classroom community had equal access to the whiteboard. The students were allowed to
write or draw anything the wanted on the whiteboard as long as it was not hurtful to
others. They had the freedom to use the whiteboard as a communicative tool and message
center (Appendix A, Data number 241, 242, 252) a place to tryout various graphic
techniques (Appendix A, Data numbers 240, 244, 249 & 250), and a place to
collaboratively interact via textual and graphic data (Appendix A, Data numbers 243, 245
- 248, 251 & 253).
Attribute Eight: The Characteristics and Pedagogical Implications of Conflict
Within the Status Quo
The methods the students used to produce the 253 pieces of data in the data set
conflicted with the status quo established by the protocols, procedures, conventions,
practices, expectations and traditions of the school at which the research site was based.
Consequently, the school did not support the six essential principles required for the selfinitiated creativity demonstrated in the data set. This discord was primarily due to a
hierarchy that placed the administration at the top, followed by the faculty and staff, with
the students at the bottom. Within the student body there also existed micro-hierarchies
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based on a student’s race, cultural background, economic class, ability to perform well in
traditional schooling activities, and the role of a student’s parents in the school
community.
For our students to have time to engage in self-directed learning, agency to selfnavigate through learning spaces, access to classroom supplies, autonomy to make
decisions, freedom to explore unanticipated learning opportunities, and the ability to
deviate from preplanned curricular activities, our classroom pushed against the
hierarchies that existed in the school at large.
Essential Principle One: Time to Engage in Self-Directed Learning
As teachers, Eddie and I were required to follow a predetermined schedule and so
we did our best to allow the students latitude in how they wanted to go about their
learning when inside our classroom. When our students became deeply entrenched in a
project or activity they were eventually pulled away and escorted to a special class such
as music, art, French, Spanish, Physical Education or Performing Arts. Although our
students had time to engage in self-initiated learning and creativity in our classroom, they
were interrupted by a schedule that dictated where students were required to report
throughout the day. When students decided to stay longer to finish up projects or
activities they would be scolded for being late to their next class. If this behavior
continued, they would be given a behavior modification plan.
Over the course of the school year we observed positive outcomes when students
engaged in self-directed activities. During self-directed activities students became excited
about their learning. They were willing to work cooperatively with others share thoughts
and ideas, and were more apt to accept constructive criticism from their peers. Ample
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time allowed students to try different approaches, learn from mistakes, and make
modifications. A flexible schedule encouraged risk taking, open-ended explorations,
discovery, and the potential for serendipitous learning outcomes.
However, at times the flexible schedule in our classroom disrupted the more rigid
scheduling system practiced throughout the rest of the school. I recall back in 2011,
having a discussion with the Head of Middle School who compared our classroom to an
island. Our classroom was an island philosophically and in practice, but physically it was
part of a larger construct. Offering our students agency and flexibility in how they
scheduled their time with us generated exciting learning opportunities within our
classroom but at the same time created conflicts in other portions of the school. Eddie and
I believed it would be good for our school to offer a diversity of classroom experiences
for the children. But in reality, this pedagogical diversity produced unrest by magnifying
differences, provoking discord, and providing justification for negative perceptions of our
classroom practices.
Essential Principle Two: Agency to Self-Navigate through Indoor and Outdoor
Spaces
In most classrooms at our school, students were required to sit in prearranged
seating and move about learning spaces in particular ways. Codes of conduct also
regulated their movements in classrooms, hallways, and common areas such as the dining
hall. Even in spaces that encouraged movement such as the gym, students were obliged to
follow teacher-directed physical activities.
However, we found much of the self-initiated learning happened when our
students were able to move about indoor and outdoor spaces according to their needs and
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wishes. This freedom gave them opportunities to have ownership of their education by
expanding their learning contexts. They became empowered agents demonstrating an
increased confidence that bolstered their interpersonal and leadership skills with both
peers and adults. Their freedom to move about their learning spaces made it possible for
them to set up temporary studios and work areas where they could spread out organize
the space based on their creative needs.
This approach worked very well within our classroom but empowerment of this
sort was easily misinterpreted in other areas of the campus. Since the 19th century,
cultural codes and modes of etiquette have been developed and adopted that dictate the
ways children are expected to act and behave in school environments. Within each
school, the environment is set up as a closed system that operates according agreed upon
protocol and actions. There were groups of parents as well as some faculty and staff who
admired our classroom practices and methodologies. There were also some who became
concerned when they saw how our students acted and interacted outside of our classroom.
Eddie and I did not require our students to adhere to traditional schooling practices such
as walking in a straight line on the right side of the hall, remaining within the boundaries
of the playground, and asking for permission before getting up from their table in the
dining hall. We also did not punish our students by making them sit out during recess or
stay after school to complete a project or missed homework assignment. Again, these
practices worked very well within the confines of our classroom but when they were
made apparent to those outside our classroom community, they were easily
misinterpreted as threatening to the social order of the school. Eddie and I taught our
students how to code-switch when they were in other areas of the school’s campus. We
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held frequent class discussions on why it was important for them to be aware of the
expectations of their other teachers. However, it takes time and practice for children to
internalize these concepts and ideas.
Essential Principle Three: Access to Classroom Materials and Supplies
It was understood and accepted that teachers were in charge of managing and
administering classroom materials and supplies at the school in which this study took
place. At the beginning of the year, teachers organized and set up their classrooms. For
the most part, desks were arranged in groups or rows with name labels affixed to the top
edges. Sometimes plastic holders for common supplies such as pencils, scissors, crayons
and rulers were included. Each room had a shelf containing lined paper, construction
paper, glue, paper clips, and other items where children could access supplies after asking
permission. The rest of the materials were stored in a closet or behind the teacher’s desk.
In our classroom the materials and supplies were kept on shelves or stored in
cabinets. Our students were allowed free access to all of the supplies. At the beginning of
the year students were given the opportunity to unpack the supplies and decide where in
the room to store them. We believed that students took ownership of their learning when
they had ownership of the classroom space, furniture and supplies. At the beginning of
the school year our classroom community collectively decided how the classroom should
be set up, where the supplies should be stored and how they should be used and managed.
Free access to the classroom materials and supplies ensured our students uninterrupted
potential in their creative learning as they experimented with various techniques,
mixtures and combinations.
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Conversely, free access to classroom materials and supplies also greatly impacted
the classroom aesthetic. A rather specific image comes to mind when most of us envision
a typical classroom space. At the front is a large whiteboard bookended by charmingly
decorated bulletin boards showing off student work. Above the whiteboard is most likely
the alphabet in upper and lowercase letters. Somewhere is a list of the student names
neatly written on paper or cardstock apples, stars, or banners. Bright informative posters
offer information on the writing process. Book sets are arranged in bookcases or on long
shelving units. Desks or tables are arranged in rows of groups. The teacher’s desk is
situated in a front or rear corner of the room with accompanying file cabinets and topped
with personal mementos. This image lends an air of familiarity to parents as they
reminisce about their own schooling experiences. For children, it is an order with which
they soon become comfortable and in which they learn how to operate. For teachers, it
becomes a standard practice. It is a safe backdrop on which teachers may imprint their
own pedagogical aesthetic within the limitations of a basic template.
As seen in the data from this study, allowing children free access to classroom
materials and supplies guarantees a radical visual departure from the familiar classroom
archetype. The ways our students organized and utilized our classroom materials was far
removed from the ways they are taught to in the vast majority of classrooms. Aside from
a handful of colleagues, and liberal-minded parents who took the time to listen Eddie and
I explain what they were looking at within the context of our pedagogical philosophies
and practices, those who observed our classroom space considered it chaotic, messy, and
unruly. None of this disarray appeared to hinder any learning in the classroom.
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Essential Principle Four: Autonomy to Make Choices and Decisions
Student autonomy was discouraged in a number of ways at our school. Most of
the students’ experiences were based on prescheduled, pre-scripted, and preplanned
lessons and activities. Students were not allowed to deviate from preplanned curricula.
Each grade level was expected to go through a curricular scope and sequence within a
predetermined time frame. Our status as an independent school allowed a certain amount
of flexibility such as being exempt from state and federal standardized testing
requirements. Our class sizes were smaller than those found in public schools, which
gave students greater personalized attention from teachers. A majority of the student
body came from privileged backgrounds where education was a priority and so they were
familiar with how to navigate, interact with and ultimately succeed in schooling
situations and contexts. Other than these examples, our school was in many ways similar
to public schooling. The students’ experience was highly regulated. Any decisions they
were allowed to make were from a predetermined set of choices. For example, while
preparing for the school’s annual Science Fair, all students were required to display
certain pieces of information on a trifold board in a specific order, but were allowed to
determine the color scheme. In the Middle School students could not choose their own
science experiment but had to pick from a group of preselected topics. In art class,
students were required to follow exemplars set forth by the teacher and could personalize
their work only in superficial ways.
In our classroom, Eddie and I valued student autonomy because we felt it led to
relevant and meaningful learning. When our students were faced with significant and
substantial choices, they critically analyzed their decisions and contemplated various
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outcomes. The students took a large role in their learning as they had the option to revisit,
reassess, retry or abandon a lesson, project or activity. But this autonomy also meant that
the activity in our classroom took on different characteristics than other classrooms in
Lower School. These differences, complicated with the tensions and conflicts happening
throughout the school, made it difficult for the administration to present a semblance of
overall educational cohesiveness to the parent community.
During the years leading up to this study, our school hired an outside agency to
help the school develop a solid brand identity to use in our advertising campaigns in
order to raise enrollment. Cohesiveness amongst each of the three divisions, as well as a
vertically aligned curriculum throughout all grades, became a guiding principle the
administration conveyed as paramount to the faculty during meetings. Student autonomy
undermined this endeavor. Nevertheless, to Eddie and I, our pedagogy of allowing our
students autonomy to make choices and decisions also pushed us as faculty members not
to get mired in our school’s branding, allowing ourselves the room to make the daily
choices and decisions that would help our classroom community to grow in its learning
capacity. As the administration attempted to marshal the faculty amongst existing
conflicts and infighting throughout the divisions, Eddie and I exacerbated the lack of
cohesiveness, creating additional rifts by our deepening departure from a traditional
educational philosophy.
Essential Principle Five: Freedom to Explore Unanticipated Learning Opportunities
If students wanted to veer from a lesson or activity, we did our best to find ways
to support their ideas and interests. In our experience, children made greater strides in
their learning and took more responsibility as learners if they contributed to the
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curriculum. When our students were free to explore unanticipated learning opportunities,
they invariably worked harder, retained relevant information, made connections, and
worked cooperatively with others. Eddie and I considered it fun and exciting to follow a
student’s lead. Part of the excitement was that we never knew where the exploration
would take the child, and at times, the whole class.
Throughout the course of the day we taught upwards of 54 students so that even
when the children chose to work in groups based on a common interest, we had multiple
activities and projects happening at once. As a teacher, Eddie encouraged and thrived in
this type of environment. My organizational style is quite different, and at first I found it
intimidating. But I was swept up in the energy and used Eddie as a mentor to help me
navigate that type of teaching process and learning environment. I soon became a convert
and marveled at how happy the children were, how fast the hours went by, and how
satisfied I felt at the end of the day even when my body was exhausted. Learning
adventures that followed the students’ lead were time-consuming endeavors. It was
impossible to us to adhere entirely to the curricular programs the school was adopting and
also allow adequate time for our students to explore unanticipated learning opportunities.
We chose to make room for the latter.
Essential Principle Six: Ability to Deviate from Preplanned Curricular Activities
and Lessons
Essential principle six is similar to essential principle five in that it is a timeconsuming, open-ended process. As previously mentioned, schools are closed systems
that operate according agreed upon protocol and actions. Traditional school systems are
identified as successful if they effectively maneuver their students through the grade
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levels according to a series of quantifiable metrics after which students go on to pursue
acceptance into colleges and universities. Our school boasted of its high student
matriculation into top prestigious colleges and universities after graduation. But when
Eddie and I allowed our students to veer from preplanned curricular activities and lessons
we interrupted the continuum of the vertically aligned curriculum. Without a longitudinal
study, it is impossible to know how this practice might have affected our students as they
continued on through the grade levels. Anecdotally, I have observed students becoming
leaders in our school and this might be due in some part to our efforts to empower our
students. Parents have thanked me for bringing about a positive change in their child’s
life. Conversely, as mentioned earlier in this dissertation, there were those who felt our
classroom experience was a waste of a school year for their child.
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CHAPTER 7 – Conclusion
This Narrative
In this narrative I describe what happened when my fourth and fifth grade
students were allowed creative agency. During the 2012-2013 school year I used an
iPhone to gather photographic and video evidence of their self-initiated creative artifacts
and processes. As one of their teachers, I had unrestricted access to their creative
endeavors and many hours each day to engage in action research.
A study of my students’ self-initiated creativity provided insight into their
learning styles and metacognitive processes. I found that student agency, selfgovernance, autonomy, empowerment, and ownership of the classroom space were
necessary to promote intrinsic motivation and encourage creatively based, studentinitiated learning.
For this type of learning to occur, my teaching partner and I embraced flexible
schedules, adopted fluid curricular expectations, and resisted conventional hierarchical
frameworks. Our classroom reflected the sensibilities and interests of the students.
However, the move toward increasing standardization on the federal and state levels
drastically affected the flexibility permitted in both public and private education. Even as
an independent institution, our school began to increasingly adopt forms of
standardization.
Our school came to a philosophical crossroads when the headmaster unexpectedly
passed away in 2011, which resulted in a power struggle. The interim leadership
eventually hired a traditionally situated administrative team. It was made it clear to my
teaching partner and I that we would have to change our unorthodox methods and
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practices if we were to retain our employment the following year, which made the
completion of this study an urgent matter.
A Summary of the Literature
The research literature has shown that much of the creativity found in schools is
product based and teacher directed, leaving little opportunity for student-initiated creative
engagements. Furthermore, the artwork children produce under the auspices of school
environments is very different from what they create when left to their own devices. The
self-initiated creativity of children reflects a variety of visual repertories and interests
while the artworks produced in schools adhere to narrowly defined visual genres. The
literature indicated that children find more enjoyment in generating their own artworks
than the projects and products they are compelled to complete in schooling situations.
Some researchers suggest educators may gain insight by examining the self-initiated
creativity of children and recommend more research needs to be done.
Most of the literature on children’s creativity examined the drawings of very
young children and looked at children’s art through developmental or socio-cultural
lenses. This study addresses the gap in the literature by analyzing a diverse assortment of
self-initiated creative endeavors by a group of fourth and fifth grade students in a private
day school.
A Summary of Action Research
My twenty years as a general classroom teacher and twenty-five years as a
practicing artist provided sufficient background, experience, and context for engaging in
a study of my students’ self-initiated creative activities using action research in the
elementary classroom. During this study I employed my knowledge base and skill set as a
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teacher to manage and balance my daily professional responsibilities with the rigors of
data collection. My artistic training and practice afforded me the necessary conceptual
insight and aesthetic discernment to organize, analyze, and interpret the data.
Action research permitted me to make first-hand observations in experiential
contexts. Being with the children every day, for the duration of a school year, ensured
extensive and abundant opportunities for data collection on their self-initiated creative
processes and artifacts. In addition to providing a research framework for this
dissertation, action research offered the means to collect, analyze, and respond to the data
on a daily basis. Additionally, the journal entries taken from the email communiqués
collected throughout this study supplied a method of self-reflection and frame of
reference while examining the data and composing the chapters for this dissertation.
A Summary of the Procedure
The procedure for this study fit seamlessly into the professional habits I acquired
during my teaching practice. Photographing student work and using journaling as a
reflective tool were a daily routine. I started collecting photographic and video samples of
my students’ self-initiated creativity to inform my teaching with the advent of digital
technology in the late 1990s. Since that time I also kept journals and records of my email
communiqués to assist in my undertaking as a reflective practitioner.
The iPhone provided a convenient way to record the creativity of my students. My
iPhone was a ubiquitous presence in the classroom and therefore a minimal distraction.
By the end of the first few weeks of school, the students were accustomed to my dual role
of teacher/researcher. Each day I took dozens of photographs and video clips of the
students’ creative engagements. Each night I chose the best representations to offload
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onto an external hard drive where they were indexed according to date and creative
category. I then reflected on the day’s events by conversing via email with my teaching
partner Eddie. In the fall and spring we would continue our pedagogical discussions and
reflections during early morning, late afternoon and weekend mountain bike rides.
A Summary of the Findings, Analysis, and Discussion
During the 2012-2013 school year, our fourth and fifth grade students produced a
wide range of creative artifacts. Each day I observed them drawing, painting,
constructing, producing, experimenting, and playing. Thousands of artifacts were created
and over a thousand documented. Of these, 253 were classified as self-initiated according
to the definition used in this study, thus comprising the final data set.
At the school in which the research took place, each grade level was governed by
core curricular content and schedules set forth by the administration, but while in our
classroom, students were afforded a level of agency that allowed their self-initiated
creativity to flourish. The students engaged in self-initiated creativity indoors and
outdoors during free times, class times, transition times, recess times, and lunch times.
They used traditional and non-traditional materials. Their self-initiated creativity was not
organized or directed by a teacher or part of a curriculum plan. Each piece of data in the
data set was done according to the imaginations, interests, desires, and creative whims of
the students.
Eight fundamental attributes emerged from the data set concerning the selfinitiated creativity of children: Serendipitous Learning, Process as Important as Product,
Cross-Pollination, Autonomous Group Learning, Innovative Appropriation and
Adaptation, Creative Transcendence & Aesthetic Enhancements, Communication,
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Empowerment & Self-Advocacy, and Conflict Within the Status Quo. Each theme
highlighted a specific aspect of the self-initiated creativity of children observed at the
research site. As demonstrated in the eighth theme, each of the first seven themes came
into conflict with the status quo found at the research site.
For serendipity to play a role in learning, students need opportunities to engage in
self-directed, explorative learning and engage in free play. We surreptitiously allowed
student agency to take place in our classroom by creating flexible schedules and allowing
our students the freedom to deviate from always being required to produce finished
products.
Student agency was a fundamental aspect of our classroom that enabled crosspollination to occur. Our students had the option to work in groups, pairs, or alone.
Effective cross-pollination meant our students freely borrowed and shared ideas, which
led to unexpected discoveries and a diverse assortment of emergent ideas.
When autonomous group learning took place in our classroom, the students selforganized into groups based on interest. They formed groups when it was convenient and
beneficial to do so. Group members decided when it was the best time to gather together
or disband. The groups remained intact as long as it took to complete a task or was
advantageous to all involved.
Our students creatively innovated because they had unrestricted access to
materials and supplies and could use them in ways they found most meaningful. They
were given time to learn about the properties of the materials through experimentation.
The same holds true for the creative transcendence and aesthetic enhancements our
students produced. Imagination and visualization were important for our students to
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conceptually and aesthetically bring their ideas to fruition. It was crucial that they felt
confident following their creative passions, were supported by their teachers, and that
their self-initiated work was valued in our classroom environment.
Transgressing the Status Quo
This study has shown that when our students were empowered, they advocated for
themselves more readily and communicated with peers and adults more confidently and
at times, critically. Allowing our students to engage in self-initiated creative practices
disrupted ritualized learning and “schooling as scripted performance” (Chappell,
Chappell, & Margolis, 2011, p. 59). As student empowerment increased, so did instances
of conflict with the status quo. When our students engaged in self-initiated creative acts
they modeled a learning paradigm that contradicted and clashed with the school’s
customary practices and structures.
Who Made the Artifacts?
A majority of the students in the fourth and fifth grades had a role in making the
creative artifacts represented in the data set. 49 out of the 54 students in the fourth and
fifth grades produced the works discussed in this study (Appendix F). The students who
were mentioned by name in this study were given pseudonyms. Of the 29 fifth grade
students, 13 were given pseudonyms. Of the 25 fourth grade students, 7 were given
pseudonyms. There were a variety of reasons for this decision. Some students were
assigned pseudonyms because they produced numerous creative artifacts. Other students
were the sole creator or author of their artifacts or creative processes. Many students
worked in groups and for some of the grouping descriptions, I gave a pseudonym to the
student or students who were more vocal or appeared to be the leaders of their group.
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Finally, some students were given pseudonyms because it made sense within the context
of the narrative.
The five students who did not have works represented in the data were four fifth
grade boys and one fourth grade boy. No definitive data was collected to explain this
phenomenon but my observations over the course of the school year suggest two
possibilities. First, the five students who did not have artifacts represented in the data set
usually chose to play sports during free time when other students were engaged in selfinitiated creative activities. Second, they were not as forthcoming and expressive to me
about their creative activities as other students making it difficult to document potential
episodes of self-initiated creativity. As will be discussed later in this chapter, the five
boys took part in creative activities, but the creativity that I observed them engage in did
not fall within the criteria for self-initiated creativity set forth in this dissertation.
Artifact creation by grade level. The fourth graders made up 46.3 % of the
students in the fourth and fifth grade class and created 44.9 % of the artifacts represented
in the data set. The fifth graders made up 53.7% of the students in the fourth and fifth
grade class and had a role in creating 55.1 % of the artifacts represented in the data set.
The amount of creative artifacts each student made that were represented in the data set
ranged from 0 to 32. The average number of creative artifacts (rounded to the nearest
whole number) each student had a role in making was 7 (6.8 for fourth graders and 7.2
for fifth graders). In the fourth grade group, a little less than half the students (44%)
created seven or more artifacts that were represented in the data set. In the fifth grade
group, slightly less than half the students (48.2%) created seven or more artifacts that
were represented in the data set. Therefore, each grade level produced a relatively similar
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proportion and range of artifacts in the data set. It is not surprising that the fifth grade
students made a slightly greater number of the creative artifacts since most experienced
our classroom the previous year when they were in the fourth grade. Whereas the level of
creative agency allowed in our classroom was a new experience for the fourth graders. I
found that it typically took students who were new to our classroom a few weeks to
become acclimated to our teaching styles and this might explain why the fifth graders
made a slightly higher percentage of the creative artifacts.
Artifact creation by gender. In both grade levels the girls produced a majority of
the artifacts. In the fourth and fifth grades, the girls made 76.3% and the boys 23.7% of
the creative artifacts. The girls made approximately three times more of the creative
artifacts represented in the data set than the boys. This disparity might be due to gender
role expectations of children in the intermediate elementary grades at the research site.
However, a comprehensive study would have to be undertaken before drawing any
conclusions concerning gender and creativity in the elementary grades at the research
site.
Artifact creation by race. According to the data, the percentage of artifacts
created by the students in the fourth and fifth grades who identified as Asian was
proportionate to the number of students they represented in the fourth and fifth grade
classes. The students who identified as Asian made up 3.7% of the fourth and fifth grade
classes and created 3.6% of the artifacts represented in the data set.
There was a slight discrepancy for the children who identified as Middle Eastern.
The students who identified as Middle Eastern made up 3.7% of the fourth and fifth grade
classes and created 5.1% of the artifacts represented in the data set. A slightly higher
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discrepancy occurred with the students who identified as African American. The students
who identified as African American made up 3.7% of the fourth and fifth grade classes
and created 8.3% of the artifacts represented in the data set.
The discrepancy within the Middle Eastern racial group, and the slightly higher
discrepancy within the African American racial group, can be explained by anecdotal
evidence. Both Hannah (one of the two Middle Eastern identifying students) and Stella
(one of the two African American identifying students) engaged in creative activities
throughout the day. Hannah had 10 creative artifacts represented in the final data set and
Stella 14. Therefore, I would hypothesize that this increase had little to do with race and
was more likely due to the fact that both students often engaged in creative activities
throughout the day.
The students who identified as Native American made up 14.8% of the fourth and
fifth grade classes and created 19.8% of the artifacts represented in the data set. This
higher proportion of creative activity seems to be a reflection of students who were more
apt to take advantage of the agency afforded to them in our classroom. After having a
discussion with Eddie, we both agreed that out of the group of 54 total students in the
fourth and fifth grade classes, 20 could be classified as students who exhibited selfconfidence and were therefore inclined to avail themselves of opportunities to engage in
self-initiated creativity. Out of those 20 students, almost half were Native American.
The students in this group acted more autonomously than their peers and were
less likely to be influenced by the school’s customs and traditions. From classroom
observations, it was apparent that these children were less concerned with pleasing their
teachers or complying with schooling expectations than engaging in their own interests. I
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did not interpret these behaviors as defiant or insubordinate; rather, they seemed to come
from children comfortable with degrees of independence. However, no extensive research
was made to stake this claim, as no research was done outside the site.
The students who identified as White made up 74.1% of the fourth and fifth grade
classes and created 63.2% of the artifacts represented in the data set. This was the only
racial group who had a significantly less number of the artifacts represented in the data
set proportionate to the number of children in the class. As with the other racial groups, it
does not appear that this was due to the fact that the white identifying children were less
likely to engage in self-initiated creativity than their Asian, African American, Middle
Eastern, or Native American identifying counterparts. This proportionally smaller amount
of creative engagement is most likely due to the fact that the white students made up a
much larger sampling than all the other racial groups combined (40 white children out of
54 total students) which led to a greater range of creative activity within the group. For
example, the five students who did not create any of the artifacts represented in the data
set were white boys. At the same time, the two students who created a large portion of the
artifacts represented in the data set (24.5%) were white girls.
Summary. It may be concluded that when allowed agency in the elementary
classroom, most children in the intermediate elementary grades will engage in selfinitiated creativity. Furthermore, an examination of the data only reveals slight
differences between the genders with regards to the type of artifacts created. For
example, the artifacts created by girls were represented in a wider range of mediums and
creative categories than the artifacts created by boys. The girls created artifacts that were
represented in all 27 of the 27 creative categories and the boys created artifacts that were
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represented in 23 of the 27 creative categories. Other than that, the data reveals no
differences between the grade levels, genders, or races with regards to the time of day the
artifacts were created or the processes used to create them.
However, the data shows a significant level of discrepancy in the amount of selfinitiated creative productivity according to gender. Although all the students engaged in
some form of creativity throughout the school year, and a majority of the children took
part in self-initiated creative actions, the girls produced 76.3% of the creative artifacts
represented in the data set compared to the boys who made 23.7% of the creative artifacts
represented in the data set. Neither the data nor my classroom observations shed any light
on this discrepancy. As previously mentioned, further research will have to be conducted
to determine why the level of creative production was significantly higher for the girls
than the boys.
Artist – Teacher – Researcher
As a practicing artist with a degree in fine arts I have a heightened critical
perspective on creativity, especially the visual arts. As a teacher, I am interested in how
children learn. During this study the combination of avocation and vocation was useful,
but created challenges as well.
Although I was at the research site all day, everyday for the whole school year,
my dual role as teacher and researcher prohibited me engaging fully in either capacity. It
is likely I missed documenting episodes of self-initiated creativity while engaging in my
teaching role. Additionally, since I was the only researcher, I could only document one
episode at a time even if there were multiple events of student self-initiated creativity
happening simultaneously. This was especially true while students worked on their forts
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during recess. However, during recess I continually moved throughout the entire fort area
recording all instances of self-initiated creativity to the best of my ability.
I also did my best to be vigilant and attentive during those moments of increased
self-initiated creative activities such as snack time, transition times, when students
arrived in the morning or while waiting to be dismissed at the end of the day.
During instructional times there were visual cues that alerted me to impending
moments of self-initiated creativity such as when students gathered art supplies to bring
back to their seats before the start of a lesson, quietly huddled in small groups or pairs
during a lesson, or when they separated themselves from the main group and set up
alternative seating in the corner of the classroom.
Finally, as the sole researcher, I had to make dozens of split second decisions each
day to determine if a creative artifact or process was of value to this study and worth
taking the time to document. There were occasions when I documented a creative activity
only to later realize that it did not fit the definition of self-initiated creativity used for this
study. Conversely, there were times I assumed a student was involved in a creative
activity that did not reflect the definition of self-initiated in this study and failed to
document the work.
My artistic practice gave me the tools to organize, categorize, and analyze large
amounts of visual information. My familiarity with artistic methods, techniques, and
mediums helped me determine a working definition of self-initiated creativity for this
study and the placement of each piece of data within the 27 creative categories. At the
same time, I have personal aesthetic preferences based on the influences of the
contemporary art world and the development of my own body of work. These preferences
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might have influenced the amount of attention I gave to the work of one student over
another as they engaged in self-initiated creative activities.
My teaching experience helped me identify the eight fundamental attributes that
characterized creative learning and the six essential pedagogical principles that were in
place allowing these attributes of self-initiated learning to occur in our elementary
classroom. At the same time my familiarity with the students led to preconceived notions
of their creative potentials influencing how I regarded, interpreted, documented, and
ultimately analyzed their creative artifacts.
My Own Positionality in the Study
I experienced this research process from a position of privilege as I identify as a
white, able-bodied, cis-gendered, heterosexual, middle class, man working in a private
school with a largely affluent student body. The majority of the school’s racial
demographic, including administration, faculty, staff, and students was white and
therefore I had little difficulty navigating spaces and engaging in social-specific codes of
behavior. The Lower School did not have students with physical disabilities and so I did
not have to take this into account as our students used our classroom stage, climbing wall,
or outside fort areas. There were not any students in my classroom during the time of this
study who I was aware of that identified as anything other than cis-gendered and
heterosexual. Furthermore, the dynamic of two men teaching in a predominantly femaleidentifying elementary environment most likely led Eddie and I to feel we had more
leeway to try new things because of our male privilege.
My positioning in this study meant that I had a limited lens through which I
regarded all aspects of my teaching practice as well as my relationships with students and
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colleagues. Although I had an insider perspective as a teacher whose research site was his
own classroom, my perceptions of what transpired were shaped by my own viewpoints,
biases, and constructed reality. Additionally, there were times when the defensive stance
I took on my own pedagogical beliefs and methodologies obscured my ability to discern
the ways in which others might have interpreted the causality of my actions. Elizabeth
Chiseri-Strater (1996) contends that a researcher’s positioning always affects their study.
In retrospect, it is now evident that many of the conflicts Eddie and I faced were a direct
result of the decisions we made about our pedagogical practices. With this in mind, I
would like to examine my own positionality in the school, the assumptions with which I
worked, and how others might have viewed the classroom culture I developed along with
my teaching partner and our students.
Attitude and demeanor. My attitude and personal demeanor certainly played a
role in how I was perceived by others. For example, our Lower School faculty meetings
were held after school each Wednesday and occasionally our discussions would become
heated as we debated curricular issues or formulated student rules of conduct. After such
meetings small groups of like-minded faculty would gather in the parking lot to revisit
and reassess what transpired during the meeting. At some of these sessions I was
surprised to learn that a few individuals interpreted my demeanor as intimidating due to
my loud voice. From my perspective, I was an impassioned educator who, owing to his
Italian American heritage, openly displayed his feelings. I became frustrated when I
thought others misunderstood my actions and as a defense mechanism, simply dismissed
any such criticisms.
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However, my reaction to criticism negated any possibility of mediation between
me and the other faculty. Not only did my attitude prevent me from benefiting from the
perspectives and understandings of others, it also widened the chasm that was growing
between various factions within the Lower School resulting in polarity rather than
reconciliation. There were residual consequences as well. By the time of this study, the
administration had difficulty forming a semblance of cohesiveness among the Lower
School faculty. Parents, and even some of the students, started to become aware of the
growing rifts between teachers.
This growing divisiveness among the faculty was unfortunate, especially since in
our school the faculty enjoyed many privileges that many pubic schoolteachers do not. I
recall from my experience working in pubic schools that the faculty meetings were
mainly standardized and routine affairs. Whereas, at the school where this study took
place, teachers were often asked to voice their concerns, offer suggestions, or share ideas
during meetings. The administration always had the final say and made many unilateral
decisions, but as a faculty member, I had many liberties that I did not enjoy while
working in public school settings.
Materials and supplies. Each year the Lower School teachers were allotted a
generous budget with which to purchase classroom supplies. Additionally, shared
resources such as copiers, printers, and projectors were conveniently located throughout
the campus. This contrasted sharply with my experience working in an inner city school
where I made Sunday afternoon treks to a local Target when I needed to replenish items
such as paper, pencils, markers, and crayons. Conversely, at the research site, some of the
students came from considerable wealth. Because of this, the Lower School faculty felt it
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was important to teach the students an appreciation for what they had and not to
squander, misuse, or waste food, materials, and supplies. Eddie and I felt the same way,
however, rather than have pre-established rules concerning the usage of supplies, we
invited the students to co-construct such protocol during the course of the school year.
The benefits of this type of teaching approach emerged slowly over time and included
many stops and starts as part of the learning process. Therefore, it appeared to some that
Eddie and I were not teaching our students how to properly respect and appreciate their
classroom environment.
One example of the students being perceived as disrespectful was precipitated by
our practice of allowing the students to mark the tabletops. The act of marking the
tabletops had its origin back in 2009 when a student asked if he could draw a design on
our classroom wall. Over the next few years a visual culture emerged in our classroom
that privileged student generated visual markings over those generated by a teacher or
purchased through a school supply business. The table markings themselves began when
a student informed me that a classmate drew a picture on one of our tables. After
speaking with the student a conversation ensued about students at all grade levels
doodling on desks and tables throughout the school, which led to a debate on the pros and
cons of the practice. Eventually, it was decided by vote that students would be permitted
to mark the tabletops in our classroom as long as it did not cause a distraction to their
learning or the learning of others. Subsequent debates and votes took place as the practice
gradually evolved. The first markings were relatively tentative with cartoon figures and
student names sporadically emerging in different areas of the tabletops. But as the year
wore on and the practice grew, the markings began to spread over the tabletops and
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children began to complain that others were drawing over their designs. The markings
also started to appear on the table edges, legs, and undersides. Eventually, every square
inch of the tabletops had some sort of marking covering it. Each time an issue arose,
Eddie and I viewed it as a learning opportunity where students could experience
democracy in action, learn to critically analyze, hone their debating skills, and feel a
sense of pride in that they had a role in determining classroom protocol. But to outside
observers, they saw classroom tables that were covered with scribbles, smears, blotches,
and graffiti. To some, the table markings most likely symbolized a pedagogical
approached that allowed (and perhaps even encouraged) its students to disrespect school
property and waste school supplies.
Although Eddie and I welcomed any opportunity to explain how the tabletop
markings became part of our classroom’s curricular experience, in reality, these types of
conversations only happened with a few of the faculty. Teachers at the research site were
extremely busy and seldom had time to engage in protracted discussions comparing and
contrasting classroom practices during the school day. Therefore, it is reasonable to think
that most teachers formed an opinion of our classroom based on their initial impressions
of an environment where they felt the students had an extreme amount of agency and
were allowed to use supplies in unorthodox and wasteful ways.
Curricular Scope and Sequence. Our unconventional teaching practices made it
difficult for many faculty members and administrators to feel confident that Eddie and I
were ensuring our students received the skills and content necessary for the following
grade level. During the year of this study, the administration was looking into math and
science programs to use throughout the Lower School classrooms but had not yet made a
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final choice on which ones they would purchase. In the meantime, I met with the sixth
grade math and science teachers and asked for a comprehensive listing of the skills and
content they wanted our students to know once they left the fourth and fifth grade Bridge
program and entered sixth grade. Eddie and I then used these lists to determine the math
and science proficiencies we wanted our students to have in place by the end of their fifth
grade year.
I mistakenly believed that incorporating the lists of math and science proficiencies
in our curriculum would quell any concerns about our students being properly prepared
for the next grade level. Although we kept meticulous listings of the content we covered
and the skills we taught, the ways in which we enacted our pedagogy made it very
difficult for outside observers to discern when and how skills and content were
incorporated throughout the school year. Therefore, instead of this technique leading to
an increased confidence in our methodologies, for many, it added to the perception of
Eddie and I as radical teachers in an unruly classroom.
Being shaped by the process. During this brief analysis, I considered how Eddie
and I made it hard for those outside our classroom to understand or have confidence in
our teaching methods and classroom practices. In Positionality: Reflecting on the
Research Process educator Brian Bourke writes, “The research in which I engage is
shaped by who I am, and as long as I remain reflective throughout the process, I will be
shaped by it, and by those with whom I interact” (2014, p. 7). Action research is a
process that requires self-reflection. The process of examining my own positionality in
this study has helped me scrutinize my frames of reference to see how the things that
transpired in my classroom during the 2012-2013 school year, might have been viewed
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by others in a much different light. Fortunately, the steps contained within the action
research methodology require the researcher to reflect on the outcomes in order to make
adjustments and refine the process for future investigations. In this respect, action
research provided a way for me to improve my own future practice by having the
opportunity to be shaped by the experience.
Implications
This study found that a majority of the fourth and fifth grade children at the
research site voluntarily engaged in self-initiated creativity when given agency to do so.
This study also found that the ways the children went about their creative learning
processes and interacted with the classroom space was in contrast to the practices and
expectations embedded within our school’s structure. Furthermore, the skill and
knowledge acquisition that resulted from the students’ self-initiated creative learning was
different from the competencies and proficiencies the students obtained from standard
teaching practices. The learning that emerged from their self-initiated activities was in the
form of big ideas, broad concepts, and play-based inventive problem solving as opposed
to the hierarchical sequence of skills and content acquisition that children were expected
to acquire from the portions of the curriculum that followed linear scope and sequences.
This study shows that creative, self-directed learning led our students to become
empowered, confident, and critical agents. However, aside from the creativity they
integrated into their math and STEAM lessons, most of what they learned focused on the
arts and design with periodic connections to the standardized content we were required to
teach in language arts, mathematics, science, and social studies. For example, the
children practiced the scientific skills of observation, testing, and research as they created
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their salamander and inchworm habitats. They incorporated elements of the scientific
process by experimenting with various solutions and mixtures. Our students explored
aspects of the natural and physical world when they created fort structures, formulated
plans, and invented tools. The forts also helped them understand and navigate various
social interactions as they established and developed imaginary settlements and
communities. The children practiced language arts skills by writing dialogue and
developing characters and storylines for their movies. But the majority of the students’
self-initiated creativity centered on art making concepts, creative processes, materials,
and techniques.
The learning that took place during the students’ self-initiated creative
explorations was different from of the type of learning that happened in the core subject
areas. Even so, this research provided insight into how children go about self-directed
learning in ways that are relevant and meaningful to them. This study illustrated how a
group of fourth and fifth graders in a private day school in upstate New York designed,
curated, and interacted with their learning space. These insights along with future studies
can inform the ways schools are designed and instruction is delivered in deference to the
ways children go about their learning and the choices they make when allowed creative
agency in their learning.
I enjoyed watching the self-initiated creativity of my students unfold and listening
to them describe their work and explain their creative processes. I learned a good deal
during my tenure at the private day school, which prompted me to alter and refine my
own teaching practices. It began in earnest when Eddie helped me recognize how the
prominence of my teacher desk impacted the way children navigated through the
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classroom space and subsequently, how they learned within that space. I gradually
developed and awareness of, and sensitivity to, the perspectives of the children by taking
time to listen, observe and invite them to co-construct the curriculum. I learned how to
simultaneously deliver the specified math and science content Eddie and I were required
to teach, while providing space and time for student-initiated, creative investigations.
Additional Considerations
Given that the self-initiated creative activities of young learners are seldom
acknowledged in elementary school classrooms, there is a need for more research on the
self-initiated creativity of children to determine the pedagogical significance of artistic
agency in the elementary classroom. Most studies examining the self-initiated creativity
of children focus on the primary years of education and often take place in an art room
setting. Additional longitudinal studies need to be conducted on the self-initiated
creativity of children in intermediate, elementary, general classroom settings.
This study focused on the self-initiated creative products and processes of
students afforded agency in a general elementary classroom setting. Through the design
of this investigation, I gathered photographic data of the creative activities my students
engaged in when allowed agency in their classroom environment. A qualitative analysis
of the data revealed eight fundamental attributes that characterized the self-initiated
creative learning of children in an elementary classroom. A closer inspection of the data
revealed six essential principles in place that allowed for the eight fundamental attributes
of self-initiated creativity to become evident in our classroom. From this study, I
discovered what my students would produce when given creative agency, the attributes
that characterized their self-initiated creative learning, and the pedagogical principles that
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supported a democratic, creative learning environment. Yet there remain aspects of this
study beyond the self-initiated creativity of children that still need to be examined. These
aspects include the effectiveness of our democratic, creatively based, student-centered
pedagogy on student learning, and recommendations to educators who might be
interested in implementing this type of pedagogical approach in their classrooms.
The effectiveness of our democratic, creatively based, student-centered
learning environment on student learning. It is important to determine how effective
our pedagogical approach was for our students. However, this study cannot be analyzed
using direct measures because quantitative metrics such as graded report cards or
regularly scheduled, school wide, standardized tests were not in place at the research site.
Previous to the 2012-2013 school year, our Lower School students received a
narrative-based progress report each trimester. The classroom teachers were allowed to
determine how they would access their students’ learning. A few teachers used test and
quizzes, others used portfolios, and some assigned projects that followed detailed rubrics.
Each year Eddie and I invited the students to take part in deciding how they would be
assessed and to have a role in reporting what they learned by writing a portion of the
narrative in their progress report. Every two weeks we set aside time for our students to
go through their papers, notes, and projects and to select the times they felt best
represented and showed evidence of their learning. The items usually consisted of math
packets, homework assignments, science lab reports, and photo or video documentation
of presentations, experiments, and independent study projects. These documents, along
with teacher-student dialogues, informed the teacher and student narratives that appeared
in the progress reports.
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During the 2012-2013 school year we continued to give our students a role in the
assessment process, but the administration decided to institute quarterly reports cards that
replaced the detailed narratives with condensed bulleted comments. These new report
cards also contained various headings such as Reading and Math, with a series of
descriptors under each heading that the teachers would rate using a 1, 2, 3, or 4. A rating
of one signified Excellent, a rating of two signified Making satisfactory progress, a rating
of three signified Needs additional practice, and a rating of four signified Area of
concern. However, the rating system was not designed to correlate to a grading system in
the conventional sense. A rating of 1 was not considered an A, a rating of 2 was not
considered a B and so on. Instead, the ratings were intended to be used as general
guideposts for parents to get a sense of how much effort their child was putting into their
schoolwork or if they were struggling in a particular subject area. For example, when a
child received a 3 rating (Needs additional practice) on the descriptor Demonstrates
automaticity of multiplication facts under the Math heading, it meant that student needed
to spend more time committing multiplication facts to memory rather than implying the
student was doing C level work compared to the rest of the class.
The report card ratings generally stayed the same or gradually increased from one
quarter to the next. Lower School teachers only decreased a student’s rating if there was a
considerable concern. Teachers would also notify parents beforehand if they could expect
a drop in the rating. However, it was rare for a child to receive a 1 rating the first quarter,
and then a 2 rating on the same descriptor the second quarter. In fact, the practice among
the Lower School faculty was to award the least possible number of 1 ratings during the
first quarter so that they could increase the ratings during subsequent quarters.
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As previously stated, we did not give our students a battery of baseline
assessments at the beginning of the school year and then compare the results to similar
tests given at the end of the year. This was partially due to the fact that during the 20122013 school year the Lower School did not have science and math programs in place
across all grade levels with regularly scheduled unit tests or assessments. As the research
site was a private school, our students were exempt from standardized state testing.
Therefore, this study did not produce data from which one could quantifiably measure the
academic outcomes of our students over the course of the 2012-2013 school year.
However, there was anecdotal evidence that shed light on the effectiveness of our
pedagogical approach. I recently asked a colleague who worked as a teacher in the Lower
School to provide me with a listing of the positive and negative aspects of our classroom
practices she recalled hearing from parents, teachers, and the administration. The positive
feedback she heard about our classroom was the importance placed on student agency,
the way creativity was encouraged, the emphasis on the learning processes over learning
products, and the careful consideration of each student’s academic, social and emotional
needs within a learning environment that celebrated inquiry, exploration, risk taking,
questioning, and problem solving.
The negative feedback she recalled hearing about our classroom was that it
appeared disorganized, chaotic, and loud. There was a perception that our classroom
lacked structure, proper supervision, and academic rigor. Our students seemed to play too
much and exhibited an exorbitant amount of creative license. She went on to say that our
classroom practices elicited strong reactions from many people, and the opinions were
fairly evenly split: “Those who loved you and Eddie were really huge fans. Those who
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didn’t felt frustrated, confused and angry about what they observed” (personal
communication, July 3, 2016).
Besides these general perceptions, additional positive and negative effects of our
learning environment can be gleaned from the information found in this study.
The positive effects of our democratic, creatively based, student-centered
learning environment. As mentioned earlier, the majority of the children took part in the
self-initiated creative activities that led to artifacts included in the final data set with the
exception of five students. All five were white, male-identifying boys, one in fourth grade
and four in fifth grade. There is no definitive data that reveals why these five students did
not create artifacts in that ended up in the final data set. If they did make self-initiated
artifacts, their creative activities were not relayed or readily apparent to the researcher
and therefore were not part of the documentation of data in this study.
Nevertheless, as with the majority of the students, these five students took
advantage of the creative agency offered in our classroom during the 2012-2013 school
year. Although they did not produce any creative artifacts or actions noticed by the
researcher that fell under the definition of self-initiated creativity for this study, they
often engaged in creative activities that were extensions of math or science lessons.
Examples of their creative learning included the use of the VidRhythm digital application
in an experiment to explore the effects of video and sound on human memory, the
production of a movie theater style preview to advertise an experiment that compared the
velocity of metal versus plastic sleds, the creation of PowerPoint presentations to
illustrate mathematical concepts, and the use of video cameras to record various
demonstrations given by fellow students. The five boys also enjoyed using our classroom
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stage to hold debates or present skits on a variety of topics studied in the fourth and fifth
grade curriculum. Additionally, all five boys used the agency afforded to them to do
independent projects at various times throughout the school year. For example, to
practice for our upcoming field and track day, one of the boys designed and constructed
an adjustable hurdle out of items he found around the classroom. The others enjoyed
taking periodic breaks from their schoolwork to practice their band instruments at a
picnic table set up outside the backdoor of our classroom.
During the 2012-2013 school year, all of the fourth and fifth grade students at one
time or another mentioned to the class during one of our weekly meetings or to Eddie and
I, that they liked being part of our classroom environment because of the level of selfgovernance and the freedoms it allotted to them. It was found that our classroom
practices appealed to what is referred to as the Affective Domain in Bloom’s Taxonomy
of learning domains (Krathwohl, Bloom, & Masia, 1973). The affective domain relates to
students’ attitudes, feelings, motivations, emotions, and values (Nahl, 1997). Appealing
to a student’s affective domain gets students excited about learning. When students are
enthusiastic about their schoolwork they participate more, acquire deeper understandings,
and have higher self-esteem (Thomas & Arnold, 2011). There is also a reciprocal
relationship between attitudes and learning where positive attitudes lead to “greater
learning and increased understanding leads to more positive attitudes” (McLeod &
Adams, 1989, p. 38). Although this study could not quantitatively measure academic
outcomes via test scores or grades, it may be concluded from this anecdotal evidence that
the students at the research site benefited academically, creatively, emotionally, and
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socially by learning within a classroom devoted to a student agency and creative
exploration.
The negative effects of our democratic, creatively based, student-centered
learning environment. It was determined in this study that all of our students’ selfinitiated creative processes and creative artifacts documented in the final data set came
into conflict to some extent with the status-quo at the school. There was a range of
degrees with which this happened. At times the conflicts were fairly innocuous, as when
Walter chose to gather stones in the same area where teachers were talking privately, to
larger challenges as when Libby decided to do a dance routine in the middle of the
classroom during a transition time. Although some of the conflicts caused by the
students’ self-initiated creative activities were relatively benign, the overall effect from
the aggregate of these conflicts caused a significant contrast between our classroom and
the rest of the school. Additionally, the six essential principles that were in place which
allowed self-initiated creativity to occur in our classroom led to a host of repercussions
and ramifications that affected our students, their families, the administration, and other
faculty.
As with any classroom, we experienced our share of difficulties and challenges
due to personality clashes. The main issue that emerged amongst our students happened
when they wanted a private working space. Occasionally a few children would express
their desire for a quiet area to work away from the bustle of the classroom. Conversely,
there were times when the majority of our students were working quietly and a group
needed a space where they could engage in more active, noisy learning. There were also
instances when a few children simply wanted a space where they could work undisturbed
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from the rest of the class for a period of time. These issues were resolved by taking
advantage of a small, unoccupied office at the front of our building. The office was
located two doors down from our classroom and was used as a storage space. Eddie and I
would allow small groups of students to take turns working in the office. Before being
allowed to work in the office, the students were required to explain why they needed a
separate space to work, what they were going to be working on, and how long they
estimated they would need the space. Eddie and I would then check on the students
periodically to see if they had any questions or needed our assistance.
This practice worked well amongst the members of our classroom community, but
conflicts arose when such practices did not coincide with the ways other Lower School
classrooms functioned and our students would be scolded for things Eddie and I gave
them license to do. For example, Eddie and I told our students they were allowed to move
and adjust the furnishings in the office space as long as they put it back the way they
found it once finished. The office had a front facing window that looked out onto a
courtyard as well as a window in the door. On one occasion, a teacher observed our
students moving the furniture around and pulling down the shade over the front facing
window. After being scolded and sent back to the classroom, our students had difficulty
understanding why they had gotten in trouble for using the office as a scene for one of
their movies.
When these types of situations occurred, Eddie and I would have a conversation
with the students and do our best to explain how they might respectfully navigate the
different expectations of various teachers. Even so, our teaching practices sometimes
placed the students in the center of a contentious pedagogical disagreement among adult
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educators, which led to unintended consequences. Some of our students understood how
to code switch in various areas throughout the school, while others simply thought of
Eddie and I as the fun teachers and other faculty as the mean teachers. As time went on,
these perceptions began to erode relationships that Eddie and I had with some members
of the faculty. Moreover, anything that impacted our students had an effect on their
families as well.
Our school was a small private institution with a tight-knit community. Most
families attended the numerous functions, activities, and events scheduled throughout the
school year. Parents were encouraged to participate in their children’s schooling
experiences and many volunteered their time fundraising, working on campus, helping
out in classrooms, and promoting special events. This level of involvement created a
culture where there was a great deal of conversations amongst parents about teachers and
their classroom practices. As previously stated by one of my colleagues, the parent
community had strong feelings concerning our pedagogical approach and created
challenges for those who did not agree with our methodologies. Even when the children
expressed that they enjoyed being part of our classroom, if their parents expected a
different type of education, difficulties arose.
For example, some of students took the bus home, while others drove home with
their parents. During one of these rides a student of ours told her father how much fun she
was having in our classroom. He became upset when she shared the creative aspects of
her experience in our classroom but did not share what she learned academically. During
a parent-teacher conference he vehemently stated that he wanted his daughter to attend a
school, not a summer camp. These types of situations had the potential of causing rifts
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between family members. This girl loved being a part of our classroom, but was also
concerned about her father’s feelings. Further stress was added, when in the same family,
one parent was critical of our teaching methods while the other championed our
approach.
Our classroom practices and pedagogical approaches also presented difficulties
for other faculty members and the administration. Perhaps the most challenging was our
classroom culture of critiquing established hierarchies and questioning established
customs and routines. Again, within the confines of our own classroom, any problem that
presented itself because of this type of agency was easily managed, and used as a learning
opportunity through classroom meetings, discussions, and debates. But once brought
outside our classroom into shared school spaces, difficulties often arose.
During one of our class meetings, it was decided by vote that our students were
allowed to express themselves through the application of bodily accoutrements such as
masking and duct tape armbands as long as they complied with the school’s dress code.
For our students, this exercise provided a dynamic learning opportunity as they were
required to wrestle with portions of the dress code that were open to interpretation. Part
of the dress code stated that attire deemed a distraction to the learning environment was
not allowed. Some of the children with older siblings argued that this was put into place
to discourage students from wearing suggestive or revealing clothing in the Middle and
Upper School. Other students argued that such accoutrements were not a distraction to
student learning in our classroom and in some cases, helped children concentrate better
because they felt comfortable when they were able to wear their own creations. However,
many of the other faculty and our head of Lower School viewed the foil accoutrements
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(data number 135) as a distraction when our students wore these creations to the dining
hall. Some of the faculty thought our students’ foil accoutrements indicated a
disrespectful attitude and might encourage some of the younger children to engage in
negative behaviors. These types of situations also put added strain onto the head of
Lower School as she was trying to bring cohesiveness to the Lower School faculty.
Within our classroom, our students were provided with many opportunities to
engage in meaningful, self-directed learning. However, the benefits of our approach were
limited because we did not fully consider, or seek a way to successfully enact our
pedagogy within the framework of the larger institution.
Recommendations to educators interested in implementing a democratic,
creatively based, student-centered pedagogical approach. This study has
demonstrated the ways children in a general elementary classroom at an independent
school went about their learning when afforded creative agency. It was found that the
children approached their learning with confidence and enthusiasm when they brought
their self-initiated creativity into their daily schooling experience. It was also found that
the methodologies that were effective within our single classroom environment became
problematic when practiced in other areas around the campus.
However, the six essential principles in place that allowed the attributes of selfinitiated creative learning to occur in our elementary classroom - time to engage in selfdirected learning, agency to self-navigate through indoor and outdoor spaces, access to
classroom materials and supplies, autonomy to make choices and decisions, freedom to
explore unanticipated learning opportunities, ability to deviate from preplanned curricular
activities and lessons - are important to consider because they help children become
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independent, self-assured learners who enjoy working cooperatively, and find their
educational experiences meaningful. Examples of ways in which the six essential
principles may be enacted into other types of learning contexts will be discussed later in
this chapter. But first, I want to offer some advice to educators who might be interested in
adopting this type of pedagogical approach for their own teaching practice.
Create a proposal. Before attempting to enact a pedagogy that incorporates the
six essential principles, it is recommended that teachers first create a proposal comprised
of three main parts: a rationale, vision, and implementation strategy. A proposal serves a
number of purposes and gives teachers the opportunity to think through the details of why
they would implement such a methodology and how they might modify it to fit their
classrooms.
The plan should have a rationale stating why a democratic, creatively based,
student-centered pedagogical approach would be an advantageous to their particular
classroom and in their particular school system. It would also be helpful to include
research relevant to their school’s demographic. Teachers should take into consideration
the individual as well as group dynamic of their student body and clearly delineate why
this type of approach would be beneficial to the children in their classroom.
Next, teachers need to share their vision of how they would enact each of the six
essential principles. The degree to which teachers may do this is contingent on a variety
of factors that must be taken into consideration. Depending on the school in which the
classroom is located, these factors will most likely include considerations such as social
dynamics, classroom schedules, school budgets, established rules and protocols, and
curricular expectations.
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Finally, the teacher needs to outline an implementation strategy that provides an
overview and a general agenda to follow. The outline should describe when, how, and to
what extent; each of the six essential principles will be enacted. The rollout of the plan
should be tailored according to the specific features of each teacher’s classroom
environment with the expectation that periodic modifications will be necessary as the
plan is implemented and assessed on a regular basis.
Have conversations with relevant parties. It is important that extensive
conversations take place between the teacher and all the relevant parties who might be
involved with their students or classroom. Depending on the school, these groups might
include administrators, faculty, staff, parents, and students.
I refer to this first step as a conversation to avoid any action that might be
interpreted by the relevant parties as confrontational in any way, such as a critique of the
schools existing customs and practices. A conversation allows both parties to exchange
ideas and offer opinions without the pressure of having to quickly come to a decision or
the teacher being perceived as delivering an ultimatum.
The teacher should first set up a meeting with the principal to share the proposal.
The purpose of this is twofold: to not give the appearance that the teacher is trying to
usurp the principal’s authority, and so the principal can help determine the feasibility of
the implementation plan from an administrative perspective. If the principal is on board,
then the teacher should ask the principal to suggest who else should be brought into the
conversation, to what extent, and the ways in which these conversations should take
place.
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The tone of the subsequent conversations will shift depending on whether the
teacher is speaking with other faculty, school staff, parents, or students. When speaking
with other faculty or school staff, the teacher will have to proceed diplomatically being
sensitive to the school’s political climate, social interactions, and internal history. When
speaking with parents, the teacher will have to keep in mind that some parents are
inclined to be more vocal and the teacher will want to make sure everyone has a chance
to have their ideas and opinions heard. The teacher will also have to be ready to clearly
explain certain pedagogical concepts and terminology with which the parent community
might not be familiar. There should also be ample time for a question and answer session
because oftentimes, individual parents have specific questions or concerns they need
addressed. Finally, before speaking with the students, the teacher should review the main
talking points with parents and fellow faculty so that everyone involved hears the same
message.
Start slowly and build gradually. If the relevant parties agree that the teacher
should move ahead with the implementation plan, it is recommended that the teacher start
slowly and build the pedagogy gradually. Schools and classrooms have long-established
practices and procedures. Introducing a new type of pedagogy takes time and patience as
members of the classroom community become accustomed and acclimated to a new
paradigm shift, even if the shift happens incrementally. A gradual implementation also
provides time and opportunities for the teacher to make any necessary adjustments along
the way. This implementation plan should not be thought of as a fixed approach; rather,
the plan should be regularly modified to the needs of the students and the classroom
context.
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Provide periodic updates and solicit feedback. Finally, it is important to provide
periodic updates to all parties involved. From my experience, this can easily be done via
email with the principal, and during division meetings with the faculty and school staff.
In the past, I found that parents respond well to regularly scheduled emails that include
images: in this way, parents can see their children go through various portions of their
school day. I have also, with my principal’s permission, hosted educational forums on the
first Saturday of each month where parents were invited into the classroom to learn more
about the educational theories and philosophies behind the classroom practices. For
students, class meetings provide the best opportunities to offer feedback and share their
thoughts and ideas. Class meetings also enhance the curriculum, as children are
encouraged to practice their public speaking, debating, conversational, and interpersonal
skills.
The above recommendations present a basic template for how a teacher interested
in implementing a democratic, creatively based, student-centered pedagogical approach
might begin undertaking this type of endeavor. As with all educational ventures, the
success of instituting a creatively based, student-centered pedagogy to any degree is
highly dependent on the circumstances and members existent within the school setting.
Further Research
Teaching and learning are contextually dependent. However, I think the selfinitiated creativity of children might be able to shed some light on the complex ways
students think and learn. Additional studies need to be conducted to find out how creative
agency might fit within other types of schooling environments, especially those that are
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more restrictive than the private day school where this study took place. As a researcher I
want to know more and consequently, this study has prompted further questions:
1. Is it possible to incorporate aspects of self-initiated creative learning and
student agency in traditional learning structures? Is there a way to make
this type of pedagogy palatable to traditionally minded educators?
2. What does learning look like in a school solely devoted to a pedagogy
based on student agency? What is gained? What is lost?
3. Will children be unprepared for subsequent grade levels if they do not
learn according to a standardized, vertically aligned curriculum?
4. Can a student-directed pedagogy properly prepare children for the current
educational system in the United States?
5. Can a classroom pedagogy devoted to self-initiated creative learning
successfully exist within an educational environment where the other
grade levels follow a standardized system?
I would like to provide a brief response to each of the five questions. Of course,
these are my initial responses in light of my study. Further studies would be necessary to
appropriately address these questions.
To respond to my first question, I believe it is possible to incorporate aspects of
self-initiated creative learning and student agency in traditional learning structures. I also
feel there is a way to make this type of pedagogy palatable to traditionally minded
educators.
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As illustrated in this study, there are many aspects and layers to self-initiated
creative learning bolstered by student agency. The self-initiated creative learning and
student agency that took place in my classroom was made manifest in ways that were
particular to our classroom dynamic and the context of our school’s political climate. In
the years previous to this study and during the school year that followed, the self-initiated
creative learning and student agency in my classroom played out differently. For
example, during the 2010-2011 school year the students enjoyed drawing and painting
directly on the classroom walls. These variations were mainly due to the changing makeup of the teaching team and the personalities of the students.
Every classroom in each school across the country offers ways in which selfinitiated creative learning may play a role. Of course, the degree to which it happens
depends on a variety of factors. But as long as the teacher recognizes the value of selfinitiated creative learning and is willing to allow a degree of student agency, there arise
many opportunities, large and small, to engage in this type of pedagogy.
Csikszentmihalyi (1990) reminds us that people become intrinsically motivated as
they engage in self-initiated activities. Children are especially drawn to creative
activities, becoming so immersed that their learning no longer appears as a response to a
teacher directive but as a wellspring of ideas emanating from within. At this point,
children become learners who want to learn “for the sheer sake of doing it”
(Csikszentmihalyi, 1990, p. 4). This notion has powerful ramifications in all types of
classrooms. Children who are intrinsically motivated to learn encourage their peers to do
likewise. When children are engrossed in their learning, their enthusiasm is contagious
becoming a palpable force drawing others into its orbit. Integrating aspects of self-
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initiated creativity into traditional educational contexts changes the way children view
and respond to all kinds of learning tasks. The same students who were resistant and full
of complaints about doing what they perceived as mundane coursework, suddenly are the
ones who do not want to leave the classroom because they are so engrossed in their
learning.
In response to my second question and based on my observations, I believe
learning in a school solely devoted to a pedagogy based on student agency will depend on
the student body since the interest of the students drives the curriculum. It also depends
on how the teachers define and foster student agency. Certainly, the instructors at the
Summerhill School, with its extreme form of democratic learning, provide a substantial
amount of agency to their students. But it plays out in ways that I consider less than
beneficial. I would not be comfortable with offering my students the same amount of
freedom afforded to the children at Summerhill. I believe in following the students’ lead,
but I would also find it difficult to allow a student to sit out under a tree all day. I would
try to do my best to inspire and generate a more active learning atmosphere.
If I had the opportunity to create a school devoted to student agency, I would have
the students involved in the design of the curriculum. Student agency does not mean that
children are allowed to do whatever they want. Rather, it means that children are
empowered to have a significant stake in their educational development. Children would
not be given a full year’s curricular scope and sequence to follow; instead they would
actively research and stake out a curriculum they feel best works for them under the
guidance of a professional teacher. Once they settled on a program of study from unit to
unit, they would be responsible to share their rationale with their peers so that the
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classroom community could offer feedback and agree on a curriculum trajectory that
benefits all. Children would be invested in their education because they had a role in its
development, ownership of the process, and shared the responsibility to see it through.
That said, this approach lacks the safeguards put in place in traditional schooling
environments where a preset curriculum is mapped out to assure parents and stakeholders
that certain skills and content will be covered. A great deal of trust must already be
cultivated between all stakeholders in order for this model to work. The teachers would
have to take great care to guide the students at every step along the process to make sure
the students acquire the necessary skills that would allow them to seamlessly segue into a
public school classroom.
My third question considers the preparedness of children for subsequent grade
levels who do not learn according to a standardized, vertically aligned curriculum. Once
again, preparedness for subsequent grade levels is highly dependent on each particular
student. I have taught students according to a standardized, vertically aligned curriculum
who ended up being very successful in the following grade level, and within the same
class I have had students for whom the following grade level was challenging. In fact, I
had students who were part of my class at the time of this study who went on to excel in
Middle School while others struggled. Furthermore, students develop at different rates. I
have known students who experienced academic difficulties throughout their time in
elementary school but hit their stride in Upper School, receiving academic awards at the
baccalaureate ceremony. I have also seen students academically excel year after year only
to suddenly burn out their senior year.
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I believe the way to prepare students for subsequent grade levels is to design a
configurable, vertically aligned scope and sequence that teachers can help students
modulate as they move from grade to grade. Instead of a rigidly sequenced curriculum
where all students move through en masse, my observations during the 2012-2013 school
year suggest a basic framework that allows students to adapt and adjust according to their
learning needs and interests. Some students excel at literature but need additional time
working with specific math concepts. Other students are interested in putting most of
their time into exploring scientific investigations but find creative writing a challenge.
Instead of a classroom setting where all students learn the same subject at the same time,
they would be able to independently engage in the subject areas at which they excel, and
then spend focused time with the help of a teacher on those areas they find challenging.
My answer to my fourth question speculating whether or not a student-directed
pedagogy can properly prepare children for the current educational system in the United
States is similar to my response to my third proposed question in that it is largely
dependent on each individual student. I do believe that if a student-directed pedagogy is
to work in preparing children for the current educational system in the United States,
great care would have to be taken to ensure that the teachers guiding the process are fully
aware of the academic and social expectations of the next grade level or local learning
institution a child might attend after leaving the student-directed environment. Teaching a
student-directed pedagogy is often misconstrued as simply leaving children to their own
devices. Nothing could be further from the truth. In reality, orchestrating a successful
student-directed pedagogy involves skillful teachers who are invested in preparing each
child to take the next step in their personal educational journey.
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My final question most closely reflects the narrative of this study. I do believe a
classroom pedagogy devoted to self-initiated creative learning can successfully exist
within an educational environment where the other grade levels follow a standardized
system. However, as I learned from this study, a teacher who attempts to enact a
comprehensive pedagogy devoted to self-initiated creative learning needs to do more than
Eddie and I did during our experience during the 2012-2013 school year. While we were
fully invested in our classroom mission, we were not fully invested in our relationship to
our colleagues and school leadership team. By adopting a classroom pedagogy devoted to
student agency and self-initiated creative learning, we created an expansive gap between
us and many other members of the faculty and administration. Still, I believe there was,
and is, a way to bridge that gap.
Leah is the only member of the Bridge Team who still teaches at the research site.
Eddie and I speak with her periodically via group texts. She often writes that she misses
working with us and feels isolated that most of her Lower School colleagues are no
longer there. We discuss education and current pedagogical trends. We always end with a
reference to starting our own school one day. Leah clearly believes in student agency.
Leah appreciates the creativity of children. Leah was able to bridge the gap. Based on my
experiences and learning from Leah’s example, a better way to enact a school-wide
culture devoted to self-initiated creative learning that can successfully exist within a
traditional educational environment is to give my colleagues the same thing I give my
students – time.
As with young learners, adults also need time to process new information,
concepts, and ideas. Time is especially needed if great change is involved. It took me
368
years to learn how to construct a classroom devoted to student agency and self-initiated
creative learning. Eddie and I needed to afford others the same grace as well. Any
educator committed to these principles must also recognize that shifting a local or
national educational paradigm is not a finite procedural adjustment, but rather a hugely
dynamic and ever-evolving process. This type of challenge is why I became a teacher.
Over time I came to understand education as a profession with a rich, complex history
and unlimited possibilities. Eddie and I wanted to rush our pedagogy through the gullet of
the status quo in hopes that it would be established once the new administration was put
in place. But that was a mistake. As a result, it was simply voided. Our efforts might have
been more enduring at the research site if we exhibited the same patience with our
colleagues as we did with our students. With our students we took time to observe in
order to better understand their thoughts, ideas, and perspectives. We did not do this with
our colleagues or the school leadership team and therefore we missed out on how our
pedagogy could have been enriched by what their experiences and expertise had to offer.
Enacting the Six Essential Principles into Traditional Learning Structures
Through my analysis of the data from this study, I identified six essential
principles that were in place to allow self-initiated creative learning to occur in our
elementary classroom. During the 2012-2013 school year, Eddie and I found ourselves in
a situation where we could fully enact the six essential principles in our classroom. But it
was a rare set of circumstances that does not exist in most forms of schooling. This
research has led me to consider additional questions, some of which pertain to the idea of
how these principles might be enacted in traditional, public school classrooms. The
following commentary provides a few examples based on my experiences working with
369
children in both public and private school environments.
Time to engage in self-directed learning. Schools have systems in place where
the teachers have the responsibility to successfully guide their students through curricular
structures intended to promote learning. Usually, teachers follow curricular programs
adopted by the schools at which they work. Many general elementary school teachers are
required to follow a program for each of the four main subject areas (language arts, math,
social studies, and science), often with additional supplementary programs (health,
character education, spelling, geography).
Curricular programs adopted by schools years ago that used to rely on a single
textbook now include multiple workbooks, teacher guides, and supplementary materials.
These comprehensive programs provide a lesson plans, scope and sequence charts,
suggestions for differentiated learning, assessment tools, and extended learning activities.
It takes a lot of time for teachers to execute these programs according to guidelines.
Schools are also required to provide character education as well as prepare their students
to take standardized exams. The workday for most teachers extends well beyond the
school day as they prepare the next day’s lessons. Therefore, time is a precious
commodity for teachers, which makes providing time for students to engage in selfdirected learning a challenge.
One way to include self-directed learning opportunities in a general elementary
classroom is to invite the students to form after-school clubs. Many schools offer a host
of extracurricular activities designed by teachers or volunteers. Students can also be
solicited for ideas. After-school clubs hosted by students that are supervised by teachermentors can provide opportunities for students to design a club based on their interests
370
and such clubs can run for as long or short a time as is needed according to the interests
and wishes of participating students.
Agency to self-navigate through indoor and outdoor spaces. Children have
little experience with self-navigation in schools and therefore allowing this type of
movement requires constant guidance and practice. First and foremost, students need to
be shown how to safely interact in groups and within spaces. It is best to begin in the
classroom environment where children spend most of their time and are most familiar.
Class meetings provide a good setting for beginning a discussion on the concept of selfnavigation. Depending on their past experiences, children will come to the meeting with
different understandings of self-navigation and what it entails. It is important that
children are first invited to express their concepts and ideas so that the teacher has a good
idea of how the class, as well as each individual child, perceives what it means to selfnavigate effectively. The next step is for the teacher to model various safe and unsafe
examples of self-navigation for the class to discuss, critique, and ultimately construct a
classroom consensus on what it means to safely navigate a space. Children also enjoy
having opportunities to model safe self-navigation and which will help them better
internalize what they have learned. Finally, it is important to see if the children are
interested in having the school principal become part of the conversation. If so, see who
would want to act as classroom representative (or which children would want to be part
of a representative group) to contact the principal, relate what was discussed, and invite
the principal in to become part of the conversation. There are always children who will
jump at the chance to take on such a leadership role. Having an administrator as part of
the discussion could lead to further discussions on self-navigation beyond the classroom.
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What started as a simple class meeting could become the impetus for a school-wide
discussion.
Access to classroom materials and supplies. Allowing children access to
classroom materials and supplies is wholly dependent on the classroom context. Each
individual teacher has a different comfort level when it comes to children being given the
agency to take and use classroom supplies. First, the teacher must be willing to allow this
practice and have ample time to invest in the undertaking. As with the first two
principles, it also works best when the students have a leadership role in the decisionmaking and design processes to ensure that they are invested participants. Next, have a
discussion about the classroom space. Invite children to comment on what they see. Lead
them into a talk about consumable classroom materials such as tape and paper and nonconsumable materials such as chairs and tables. Once they understand this concept, enter
into a discussion on the cost of each item and the limitations of school and classroom
budgets. Ask the class if they would like to create an action plan to determine how the
materials and supplies will be used. I have found that children will take a discussion very
seriously if the teacher is candid and willing to allow the children to be part of an action
plan. Once children have ownership of the process, they tend to rise to the occasion and
are more willing to enter into meaningful debates to establish agreed upon goals and
procedures for the equitable and economical usage of classroom resources. It is not
necessary for the children to be allowed access to all the supplies as in the case of my
classroom. That practice was something that evolved over the course of many years.
Giving children who are new to the concepts of self-governance a small amount of
agency can have a big effect.
372
Autonomy to make choices and decisions. Children love feeling empowered
when given choices and being able to make their own decisions. Although schools are
places of complex sets of rules and regulations, classroom spaces are microcosms that
offer a range of opportunities where children can make personal choices and take part in
community decisions. It has been said that each day teachers make thousands of
decisions. Of course the teacher cannot stop the class to invite the class to take part in
each decision or there would not be time for anything else. However, lesson plans
provide a convenient tool where teachers can include opportunities for student choice and
decision-making. As they construct their lesson plans, teachers include activities and
procedures not only based on their curricular goals and standards but on the make-up of
their class. Teachers know their students and can tweak and make adjustments to their
lesson plans based on how they envision the lesson will play out. This process can begin
in small ways by embedding one opportunity for student choice per week and gradually
adding more as the students become accustomed to making their own choices and
decisions.
Freedom to explore unanticipated learning opportunities. At the research site,
Eddie and I were able to allow our students to explore many of the unanticipated learning
opportunities that arose throughout the day. However, many educators teach in
environments where this type of flexibility is not possible. Yet, the typical school day is
full of instances where students come to the classroom brimming with personal stories of
interesting things they saw while on vacation, read in a book, watched on television, or
viewed online. Many times after sharing a topic a student will ask if they can research it
further in class. An easy way to encourage children to take personal advantage of
373
learning opportunities as they arise without having to interrupt the classroom proceedings
is to create some type of space within the classroom where they can record their learning
ideas. A simple bulletin board or white board hung near the door can serve as a place
where children jot down their project idea or topic of interest. Then at the end of the day,
while waiting for dismissal, a few minutes can be set aside where these ideas and topics
are shared by the students who posted them.
Ability to deviate from preplanned curricular activities. This is perhaps the
most challenging of all the principles to enact in a traditional public school setting since
public school teachers are required to cover a certain amount of material over the course
of the school year. That being said, teachers can turn this into an opportunity to
encourage their students to attend more closely to the weekly lessons. At the beginning of
each week, the teacher can take a few minutes to review the week’s upcoming lessons
with the class. Once the students see a schedule of how the material will be covered, the
teacher can inform the class that the rate of how quickly the material is covered is
dependent on how well they attend to each lesson and activity. If the class is able to
successfully get through the material ahead of schedule, then they will have time to
engage in activities of their choice. Technically, this is not the same thing as allowing
children to deviate from preplanned curricular activities, but it is a way to empower
children to create a block of time where they may engage in their own self-initiated
endeavors.
374
EPILOGUE
At the end of the 2012-2013 school year Eddie decided to take the following year
off to care for his three-year old daughter and home school his two older sons. A new
teacher was hired for the fourth and fifth grade Bridge team. It was decided the following
year I would teach math, the new hire would teach science, Leah would concentrate on
language arts, while Rachel was in charge of social studies. However, the school was also
struggling financially, which became exacerbated due to a steep drop in student
enrollment and rumors of layoffs began circulating amongst the faculty. I left after the
end of the 2013-2014 school year and Eddie returned to take my place as the fourth and
fifth grade math teacher.
The following December, as the school’s financial situation became increasingly
tenuous, it was reported in local papers that the school planned to cut staff, reduce student
financial aid, and raise tuition. In January the headmaster announced his resignation and
an Upper School faculty member became the interim head. By the end of the school year,
Leeann announced that she had accepted an administrative position in a private school
located in another part of the state. Out of the 14 elementary classroom teachers who
were at the school during this study, two are still employed at the school, five left of their
own volition, and seven, including Eddie, were laid off.
The Creative Resiliency of Children
After leaving the private day school, I accepted a fourth grade teaching position at
a local inner city school. The school was deemed “failing” according to a governor’s
report and I thought introducing a child-centered, creativity pedagogy would provide a
positive alternative. However, I was woefully unprepared and did not have the skills to
375
deal with the profuse needs and complex set of variables that came with teaching an
underprivileged population of children. There were sudden violent outbursts and other
disruptive behaviors initiated by some of the more troubled students that occurred
throughout the school on a daily basis. The administration reacted by instituting
increasingly stricter policies that impacted all of the children. After five weeks, I felt I
was not having a positive enough effect and resigned my position.
At the beginning of this dissertation I mentioned my fascination with the creative
resiliency of children. I saw this play out in the inner city school as well. Although I was
not allowed to give the children the agency my students at the private day school enjoyed,
the children still found ways to surreptitiously engage in self-initiated creativity.
A few of these activities expressed negative messages. I believe they were an
expression of the frustration brought by an oppressively strict environment that sought to
control every aspect of the children’s schooling experience. Some students would mark
the floors by first crushing a crayon or pencil under the leg of a chair. Then while sitting
on the chair, they would scooch side to side to produce a series of zigzagged scuffmarks
on the floor. The students also communicated their anger and frustration with each other
by creating notes that included hurtful messages and illustrations.
However, the vast majority of the self-initiated creative artifacts were positive
expressions that incorporated creative categories similar to the ones produced by my
students at the private day school. These creative artifacts included illustrated notes,
drawings on paper, vibrantly colored abstract designs, mini-posters, objects made from
the detritus collected from the hallways and along the corridors, paper airplanes, folded
paper constructions, toy weapons, doodles, miniature desktop studios, and tiny
376
installations. But since any type of self-initiated activity was strictly prohibited by the
administration, the children secreted away their creations in pencil boxes, cubbies, and in
the back corners of bookcases.
At the beginning of the year I pretended not to notice so that I did not interrupt or
impede their creative processes. Then, after the students left for the day I gathered
whatever creative artifacts I could find and photographed them. As I got to know the
students, I began to talk with them about their creations and asked permission to
photograph their work. Soon thereafter, the students brought their creativity out into the
open and during class many of the children kept their small creations on top of their desks
while they worked.
I found one mode of creative production particularly interesting. The staff used a
bright blue adhesive putty to hang posters throughout the hallways to promote a variety
of positive messages. At the same time, there was a common behavioral problem called
“running the halls.” Each grade level, from Kindergarten to the fifth grade, had one or
two students who would routinely exit the classroom during a lesson, and begin to run
through the hallways. Some students did this as a lark, laughing and peering into
doorways as they made their way down the corridors. Others would run through the halls
when they got upset ripping down the posters as they ran by. After one of these episodes,
while I was escorting the children to lunch, I noticed a student of mine peel off tiny
pieces of adhesive putty that were still attached to the wall and place them in his pocket. I
wondered what he planned on doing with the putty.
Later that week, when I returned to the classroom after bringing the children to
music class, I noticed a tiny blue figure on his desk balanced between his notebook and
377
folder. Upon closer inspection, I could see that it was a charming six-legged creature with
a serpentine tail standing erect on its hind legs.
Figure 136. Creature made from adhesive putty (2014).
378
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VITAE
David Rufo completed his Bachelor of Fine Arts with a major in painting at Syracuse
University in 1984. After working as an artist, he continued his education completing a
Bachelor of Science at LeMoyne College in 1995 and Master of Science at SUNY
Cortland in 2000 with a major in elementary education. David has worked in both public
and private schools as a general elementary classroom teacher for 18 years until 2014
when he founded The Portal Learning Project.
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