The Wonder Wall

Leading Creative Schools and Organizations in an Age of Complexity

Peter Gamwell, Jane Daly

• Publisher: Corwin
• Year: 2017
• ISBN:
  9781506382708
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Education
• Subtopic: Leadership in Education

Learn the four conditions most effective for fostering creativity

Sometimes our attempts to foster creativity can stifle it. Gamwell, a former teacher and superintendent who has spent more than three decades studying creativity, shares a fresh perspective on how to nurture creativity, innovation, leadership, and engagement in a variety of settings. You’ll learn how to:

• Tap the creative and leadership potential in everyone
• Think bigger by moving from a deficit model of thinking to a strengths-based approach
• Develop the lost arts of listening and storytelling to optimize learning
• Handle the inevitable pushback and fear that transformational change can bring

1 The Start of Something Extraordinary

“If I must start somewhere, right here and right now is the best place imaginable.”

—Richelle E. Goodrich

Many of us experience a pivotal conversation early in our lives when someone important, often an adult who knows us well, encourages us to do something that will make the world a better place. One of my pivotal moments began like this:

“Gamwell, why don’t you just go get a job?”

These words were uttered by a teacher in Liverpool, England, as I was lining up to enroll for my next level of courses. To my impressionable 16-year-old self, the statement not only boiled down into one sentence my entire 11 years of school achievement but also pronounced the grim level of potential the teacher saw in me. In his opinion, continuing on with higher education would be a waste of my time—as well as everybody else’s.

More than four decades have passed since that meeting, and the man who declared my poor prognosis is, by now, certainly retired. (I believe his heart had already retired at the time of our meeting.)

Lest you feel sorry for that poor young lad that was I in Liverpool, let me be quick to point out this is a good-news story. In hindsight, that short interaction with the teacher and his one-sentence synopsis of my future was something of a catalyzing moment. I have often recalled his words during my teaching career, and they have influenced the way I look at the potential of students, particularly those who have struggled academically, like me.

The truth is, I graduated from high school having very little idea of what I would be good at.

Why Was That?

I started thinking about it. It wasn’t as if many of my teachers hadn’t done a remarkable job of documenting the things I was bad at. I have to admit my behavior was not always the best. And so they had dutifully taken the time to point this out to me, both spontaneously in the classroom and at regularly mandated meetings throughout my school career! The list included not only academic shortcomings but also my penchant for disrupting the class.

I want to make it clear that I don’t blame the teachers. They were simply following what were considered standard practices. Rather than look at my young self and wonder what untapped potential I might hold, my teachers believed the secret to my success was to correct all the things that were wrong with me. If I was bad at math exercises, then I must be given more math exercises. If I hated reading, then more reading I must do. If I couldn’t sit still in class, then I must get detention and spend even more time sitting still after class (or, at least, trying to).

And so, as my school career drew to a close, whatever things I was capable of, whatever things sparked a light in me, if there was anything at all I truly excelled at—that knowledge had, for the most part, eluded my teachers and me. I didn’t realize that perhaps I was someone who, despite his distractibility, might have a keen insight in how to teach, strategically plan, create music. Not because I didn’t have capabilities but because the capabilities I possessed didn’t fall within the narrowly defined parameters of what learning, success, and potential looked like. Having failed to measure up to what was then defined as a promising student, I was deemed to have little promise at all.

Except, Perhaps, for Getting a Job Somewhere

I said this was a good-news story, and rest assured that it is. My brief encounter with my teacher that day provided me with a profound insight, one that comprises a most important imperative I believe is essential for creating environments that foster creativity and innovation. That first imperative is the belief that every person, regardless of rank, background, social status, or school grades, possesses a seed of brilliance. It’s taken me some four decades, a career in education spanning from England to Canada, and help from a team of thousands to figure out two more imperatives and four primary conditions that foster creative environments, but that moment with my teacher is where it all began. It was the first step on my journey to something extraordinary.

Over the years, as I began to formulate my thoughts, I found the topic of creativity resonated with many other people, and we were all eager to connect and exchange ideas. I was extremely fortunate to learn from some very great minds on the topic, such as Ellen Langer, Sir Ken Robinson, Daniel Pink, Margaret Wheatley, Teresa Amabile, Sir John Jones, and many others who have devoted their careers to creativity and innovation. I also had the pleasure of working with the Lead the Way to Creativity campaign with the Ottawa-Carleton District School Board (OCDSB) in Canada’s national capital, which included thousands of participants who shared their ideas.

Interestingly, those who contacted me or engaged me to speak publicly to their groups came not just from the field of education but from other industry sectors such as government, medicine, creative think tanks, businesses, not-for-profits, engineering groups, and even utility companies. Moreover, some of the most invigorating conversations I’ve had on the subject took place in coffee shops, airport lounges, and the checkout at the grocery store.

I believe part of this interest has been sparked because so many organizations today are wondering how to become more innovative in general, especially in an increasingly global society. And, as it turns out, the hierarchies, processes, and philosophies involved in running school boards and making our classrooms and student learning environments flourish are not that much different from those of the organizations we build for us grown-ups—thus the same imperatives and conditions that foster creative environments in schools can easily be applied to any organization or undertaking.

This is especially true when you consider that all organizations are involved in learning: learning how to succeed, learning about what their clients want, learning what products or services will work for them, learning about the risks and opportunities out there, learning how they can make the world a better place. We’re not so removed from our school days after all, especially when our changing world requires us to constantly update our knowledge and skills to stay competitive. Schools and various organizations also share a vested interest in creativity, because the more creative our students are in the classroom, the more creative they will be in the boardroom.

For several years, schools have focused on a back-to-basics movement (as have many businesses and organizations). Along with standardized curriculum and standardized testing (cousins of lean processing, setting objectives, and annual reviews in the business world), educators are strongly encouraged to recognize and reward competence in two main areas—math and language. We need standards and levels of achievement in math and language because they support learning of so many other subjects. Common sense tells us that once a student masters reading, for example, it provides the key to read and learn more about virtually any subject in the world.

But taken too far, the problem with narrow and rigid standardization is that children—and adults—are not standardized, as Sir Ken Robinson (2011) has often pointed out. And moreover, standardization is the very antithesis of innovation. If we are really serious about setting up environments in schools and organizations that foster creativity and innovation, then we must do the hard work of figuring out how we make the extraordinary happen.

In my own quest to figure this out, during my dewy-eyed early days of teaching, I wanted to help my students to find their passion, to learn “what they were good at”—so that they didn’t end up like me, not knowing this basic information about themselves on the last day of high school.

At first glance, the answer seems obvious: A student is good at whatever subject he or she scores high marks in. But I soon learned that wasn’t the whole story. Not nearly so. I realized that a student who scored perfectly on a spelling test didn’t necessarily have a deeper understanding of literacy or even an interest in the subject, let alone a passion; it often meant he had good memorization skills. It was the same for learning multiplication tables or a musical score. Learning something, being competent at it or even mastering it, could still result in glazed-eyed boredom. It did not magically lead to engagement or passion or mean the student would want to take up a career doing it.

Clearly I Was Missing Something, but What?

Then one day I was feeling a bit rebellious and decided to change things up a bit. Joining forces with a few other teachers, we asked permission for the school to put on a rock opera, Jesus Christ Superstar. Mind you, the title choice was somewhat unconventional and risky, especially because this was a Catholic high school in a rather polite community. Happily, they allowed us to do it anyway.

The production of Jesus Christ Superstar completely transformed the way I look at learning and education. There was no curriculum set out; we were all just flying by the seat of our pants. We had only one rule: Anyone who wanted to be a part of the musical was a part of the musical. We had auditions only for the lead roles, and everyone else just gravitated toward whatever sparked their interest, from set design to costumes to special effects—whether they had any prior experience or learning in the subject mattered not.

It might sound like a script for disaster, but in the end, the only word that could adequately sum up the project is magical. Members of the audience, the cast, and the crew left the performances exclaiming, “That was amazing!” Not “That was amazing—for a high school performance,” but “That was amazing.” Period. Lest you think I’m exaggerating, I recently found out there is an active Facebook group that was formed by students to reminisce about their experiences in putting on that rock opera, even though it all happened some 40 years ago!

What was most magical, however, even gobsmacking, was the incredible amount of learning that took place across all subjects, from acting and math to engineering and science to design and art. And by learning, I mean learning and engagement, not simply memorization. Especially given our lack of experience, we ran into challenges, lots of them, but each time, everyone worked together, contributing their knowledge and ideas, to figure out a way around it. We invited the broader community in, forming partnerships and tapping into their expertise. We even had the military come in, to teach us about precision in movements. The students benefitted enormously from this community knowledge, and I believe the community benefitted as well.

And there was passion—parents often complain they have a hard time getting their kids to come to school, but we couldn’t get them to go home! Everyone wanted to stay well after the bell rang and keep working on the musical.

Of course I was delighted with the outcome of the rock opera project, but I was curious: What was it that sparked such enthusiasm and engaged learning among the students? (And for that matter, the teachers and the community as well?) How had we managed to bring out that spark of brilliance in each student involved? And most importantly, how could I replicate this phenomenon in the classroom?

I understood at least part of the appeal of the project was that it was different, it was fun, and it was novel. But it seemed to me there was something more. How was using math to design a stage set really all that different from using math to solve a problem in the classroom?

Looking back, after years went by and I learned more on my quest, it eventually came to me. It wasn’t that we were teaching the students through the rock opera project and helping them learn what they were good at. It was the other way around: The rock opera set the conditions for the students’ brilliance and unique abilities, what was already inside them, to emerge. And they discovered themselves what sparked their curiosity and passion, took ownership for their learning, and discovered what they were good at.

Significantly, This Was the Environment Needed for Creativity to Flourish

Let me explain further. A common belief is that learning has taken place when the student can demonstrate what he or she has been taught: the ability to solve a math equation, write an essay in a desired format, or read sheet music to play a song on the piano.

Creativity, however, is the ability to go beyond any skills or knowledge that has been taught: to come up with a new mathematical theory; to persuade others to a course of action through written words; to compose music.

Conventional wisdom holds that before you can be creative in a certain area, you must first have mastered the learning. How can you write a song before you have learned to read notes? But the more I learn about creativity, the more I realize this is seldom the case. More often, it’s creativity—the wonder walls, the innovation, and the “what if’s”—that sparks and drives the learning.

Following this realization, I read dozens, if not hundreds, of books and articles as I sought to learn more about creativity and how to teach and impart its gifts to my students. Most of these books set out a formula to teach people or groups how to become creative. There were exercises to free the mind, individual and group brainstorming tips, self-hypnosis, yoga, and meditation techniques.

I’ve no doubt these methods work for some people, and that was my problem with them. There’s no one-size-fits-all way to teach creativity, and in a classroom of 30 pupils (or a department of 30 employees or more!) how does a teacher or team leader have the time to find and teach different methods to each student? Even if we could find a method that suited each student and convince them to apply it, isn’t creativity using the same standardized process a bit of a logical oxymoron?

Likewise, whereas I’m sure these methods could be very effective for some, the results simply couldn’t compare to the extraordinary ones we had accomplished through Jesus Christ Superstar—a project in which, ironically, we hadn’t even been trying to teach creativity.

The Answers Continued to Elude Me

Then one day, I was jamming with some friends, playing my piano and having a great time of it. We were fairly good musicians, having practiced our skills and playing regularly through the course of our lives. We were all playing together, but each of us was ...