My Teaching Reflection: Applying the Teaching Philosophy of Constructivism

In the classroom, my goal will be to encourage young adults as they explore and experiment with new forms of expression in a friendly, safe setting. Constructivist teaching methods are a perfect fit for achieving that goal. I say this because, particularly when it comes to my own writing, I like to think "outside the box," and Constructivism allows me to do just that. Constructivism is best summarized by the following definition: "The progressivist teaching philosophy is a student-oriented approach that takes individuality into account and links it to active learning. According to Constructivism, the best learning circumstances occur when the subject matter is applicable to the learner's life and talents.” Additionally, this method stresses interaction, teamwork, and respect for other people's opinions as crucial components of learning (www.indeed.com, 2023).

Adults learn best by doing, not by hearing, according to a statement I heard. Constructivism encourages students to put to use what they are learning in ways that are personally meaningful in the actual world. "Learning by doing is a teaching strategy that employs interesting learning exercises that are customized to the requirements and interests of the students. Like this, Learning by Doing teachers encourage pupils to learn through piquing their curiosity” (ResearchGate, 2020). I am a Linguistic leaner, which means that reading and writing are the ways that I learn best. Even though I naturally learn in such a manner, I have found that when material is pertinent to my own life, not only am I more interested in it but also, I am more invested in the result, and more engaged as well. I believe that direct participation in the learning process is when students will gain the most.

As an illustration, we were requested to make Concept Maps in several of my classes at Tiffin University. We were given a topic but oversaw the project's layout and aesthetics. I was anxious and excited at the same time because this was my first time creating one. The process of making my first Concept Map was so much fun! I gave the project a lot of focused consideration and hours of experimentation with various visuals. Why was this lesson so interesting to me? Mostly due to the novelty. I was learning in an unusual way since it allowed me to move beyond the "box" of the Linguistic learner. I was studying differently. Even though universities encourage Linguistic learning, we must remember that not all students learn well in this manner. Instead of reading, writing, or listening to a teacher, many students prefer to learn by doing—by applying what they have learned.

Creating a Concept Map allowed me to express myself more freely and creatively. Instead of forcing me to adopt a predetermined form, it gave me options. For instance, if I wanted to, I could use amusing visuals. Most essential is that I held the knowledge longer because I had applied it. Then, I had to use the Map to teach my classmates about the topic, which required that I fully understand the main ideas.

Constructivism's ability to be utilized to motivate students to collaborate in groups is another crucial aspect of this teaching philosophy. When students in a class are having trouble getting along with one another, a project that divides them into groups might help them work together to achieve a shared objective. This may rekindle student enthusiasm in their courses and foster more positive interaction between them.

Instead of using a passive method where material is grasped only through listening, Constructivism takes a "hands-on" strategy that involves direct learning experiences. Everyone has a voice in Constructivism, and everyone is encouraged to voice their opinions to the group. If there are students who are conventional learners, this strategy will push them to "get out of their comfort zones" and to discover new abilities and modes of expression, like the Concept Map did for me. Students are expected to use both their critical thinking and social abilities in this instructional method. Because it requires student groups to cooperate, it is democratic in character. It helps students to appreciate and consider other's views.

In the classroom, the instructor performs the dual duties of activity facilitator and mentor. The teacher asks questions rather than provides answers. When a student asks for a solution, for instance, if I am applying Constructivism, I could throw it back to the group and say, "Instead of telling you the answer, I'd like the group to brainstorm and come up with a few different ways you could solve this." As the teacher, I do not want to foster a dependence on me for answers. Students should be encouraged that they can solve the problem if they rely on one another, themselves, and the resources on hand. In-class problem-solving is important because it builds confidence in their own abilities, and it teaches them to bring problems forward and not to conceal problems.

Students will receive the same grade if the group follows the instructions and completes the work, except if a student does not participate in which case their mark would be lower. To ascertain the level at which people are functioning, I do think testing is crucial. Tests should be given frequently enough to gain a general idea of students' knowledge and abilities, but not too frequently to discourage or cause concern. In high school, I had a teacher who made us take exams at the end of every week. While this was good for the instructor, a large portion of the students who were in his class dropped out because of the excessive number of examinations.

The frequent assignment of research papers and explanatory essays is also an effective way to gauge student understanding and English language competence. In the Constructivist method, it is recommended to give students as much freedom as possible in their subject selection rather than assigning the topic. As they say, "Different strokes for different folks." The learner will spend more time investigating and will have a deeper grasp if they get to pick the topic or choose from a list of ideas. Additionally, a class with a variety of subjects will be more engaging for everybody.

As a lifelong learner, I have found that every class has a small group of top performers—what I like to refer to as the top 20%—who get the best grades, submit their assignments and comments first, and lead much of the thoughtful conversation. A Constructivism strategy pushes the remaining 80% to participate more regularly and directly and could be what they need to get fired up about the assignments.

I authored a book and study guide that is used by my podcast study group. Naturally, since I wrote the content, I am aware of the answers. But I think learning should not be passive. As a result, after fully describing the topic we are studying, I pause and solicit my cohost's perspective. By giving the audience another viewpoint, the audience is more likely to phone in and contribute their own perspectives. When callers ask for my opinion, I offer it, but I also ping-pong it back and solicit their feedback. Instead of a lecture and a single point of view, I want my podcast to be a lively debate and discussion. My vision for the classroom is the same: a safe space where learners feel free to express themselves and take chances, as well as a social setting where they may practice tolerance and respect for different points of view and cultures. 

Constructivism is in harmony with my vision of what a classroom ought to be: intellectually fascinating, a secure environment for expressing curiosity and taking risks, and a working environment where many ideas and viewpoints may be voiced without concern. I want learners to become their own teachers in my classroom. In essence, to do as much as I can to work myself out of a job. 

                                                    

                                       References

 

Sameer Abuzanda. Learning By Doing. ResearchGate, 2020.

(PDF) LEARNING BY DOING (researchgate.net)

 

Indeed Editorial Team. 12 Common Teaching Philosophies (With Definitions). 2023.

12 Common Teaching Philosophies (With Definitions) | Indeed.com

Should Colleges Only Teach Standard Written English? by Devi Nina Bingham

 

I believe that requiring college students to write only in Standard Written English (SWE) is a complex issue, and I can see both sides of the debate. My opinion tends to fall somewhere in the middle. Let me explain. The traditional argument in favor of requiring SWE, also known as Standard American English (SAE), makes some sense. To succeed in the “real world,” which means to be a success in business, academics, and socially, students must be familiar if not fluent in SAE, and the classroom is the most appropriate place to learn to communicate effectively. It is said that the purpose of academics is to prepare the student to succeed, both professionally and personally; it is not to make them feel comfortable. That is not academia's purpose. In fact, learning new things can make us distinctly uncomfortable because we must stretch ourselves. Thus, when this question is analyzed through an academic lens alone, then yes-requiring students to write and communicate in SWE is correct.

Having said that, if you look at this question through a different lens, the lens of a mental health professional (which I am), and especially through the lens of Psychology (which was my undergrad), it looks different. Allowing multilingual students to use their dialects in the classroom respects their cultural heritage. Using vernacular English such as Black Vernacular English (BVE) that has its own grammar rules, validates the English as a Second Language (ESL) student. Allowing these differences to coexist with traditional pedagogy will inspire a higher quality of engagement in the class, and a higher caliber of writing from multilingual students. It will also encourage other instructors and American students not to take part in cultural bias which comes easily to us all, whether we like to admit it or not.

This debate reminds me of something important I learned in a Psychology class as an undergrad. The class was asked whether we believed we had unconscious bias, what is known as implicit bias, against people of other cultures. My daughter's father was African American and very dark skinned, and my daughter was biracial and looked like her dad, so I responded no, confidently-I had no implicit bias. How could I if my daughter and her father were Black? Then our class participated in a university research study to test for implicit racial bias.

During the online test we were shown a series of pictures that flashed quickly on the screen, and for each face we had to make a split-second decision. We had to choose whose face we felt more comfortable with and press the arrow either way. Sometimes the face was Caucasian, sometimes, Asian, Hispanic, African American, or Native American. It went so fast that you did not have time to think, you just had to react. At the end of the 30 minutes, I felt that I had not shown any bias. The results came back several weeks later. There was not one person in the class who did not have some bias. I was 55% biased in favor of Caucasians. In other words, I would unconsciously give a 5% advantage to a white person over any other. When I got my score, I was shocked and dismayed because I have always prided myself on being culturally sensitive.

That study showed our class the truth. No matter how hard we try not to be biased towards our own group (meaning race, sex, sexual orientation, religion, etc.) we are unconsciously and evolutionarily predisposed to preferring our own groups. This is because, according to Evolutionary Psychology, in our ancient past if you did not choose your own group, you would not have lived long. Genetically it is bred into us to have in-group bias.

I share this eye-opening experience because you may think you are not biased; everybody thinks that. But it is important to acknowledge that even educators are biased. It does not mean being aware of it will stop the bias; it will happen unconsciously. But to be aware of our inclinations is half the battle. “Findings suggest that reading these studies impacted teachers' understandings of race and racism in terms of their teaching, as well as in terms of their personal relationships to race and racism, increasing their inclination and ability to address race and anti-racism” (Kempf, 2022).

In an effort to mitigate these inequities, Catherine Savini (2021) proposes allowing students to use their dialects; allowing them to write in their vernacular English or their first language, and to implement grading contracts with them “that value labor, effort, and process over standardization.” Then she suggests asking these students to write as if they were going to present their papers to a public audience. She suggests allowing them to use their familiar, culturally inherited language, but to make it understandable enough for a general audience. It seems to me if a student used their own vernacular, but a general audience could clearly still understand them, then mission accomplished. However, whether an audience will appreciate listening to or reading a paper in another vernacular is unknown. It depends upon the audience. If it is a majority white audience, they may not appreciate alternative vernacular because as we have seen, it is not their way of speaking.

I have witnessed linguistic prejudice, usually from white people towards people of color with comments such as, “If you don’t know how to speak our language then go back to your country.” My father and his side of the family were hardcore racists, so I grew up enduring and detesting comments like this. I believe that it is not until you yourself are different in some way, or someone you are with is different, that you can see it. 

 Works Cited

 

Savini, C. 10 Ways to Tackle Linguistic Bias in our Classrooms. Inside Higher Education, 2021.

 Kempf, A. Toward Deeper Unconscious Racial Bias Work in Education. Teachers College Record, 2022. Toward Deeper Unconscious Racial Bias Work in Education: DragonQuest (opal-libraries.org)

Working as an Adjunct Professor-by Devi Nina Bingham

 

This essay (Berke, 2023) confirmed what I’d read in a textbook in a prior college course about obtaining a career in academics. The author discussed the benefits and drawbacks of working as an adjunct professor at a university. She stated, "But many people don't realize "adjunct" is a fancy word for part-time contract work."

Contract workers are comparable to self-employed individuals. There is little or no benefits, no paid time off, no summer employment if you are a teacher, and no contract renewal is assured. Being an adjunct instructor may be excellent if you have a second source of income, and health insurance. If not, you may not be able to count on it as your sole source of income. Fortunately, I have a consistent part-time income as an author that covers my expenses, so an adjunct post would work for me.

When discussing remuneration, the author admits to all the unpaid time you will need to spend outside of class hours: "...office hours, emails, lesson planning, grading, letters of recommendation, and miscellaneous tasks all add up." I'm not sure how much time this will take because I've never taught in an academic setting before, so I'm not sure how to compute this. However, before accepting a position you should estimate how much time other teachers spend so you can obtain a fair image of how much you would be paid per hour.

Working as an adjunct professor would be a terrific opportunity to obtain teaching experience and improve your career, but the compensation would be lower than that of tenured academics. According to this article, securing a full-time teaching position can be tough, which means you may be an adjunct instructor for the majority of your career before finding an institution that hires you full-time, if you ever do get fulltime. An adjunct position appears to be excellent for someone like me who has previously had a full-time career and is now searching for part-time work, and a second career.

Works Cited

Christina Berke. The Realities of Working as a College Adjunct Professor. EdSurge. 2023. www.edsurge.com/news/2023-02-09-the-realities-of-working-as-a-college-adjunct-       professor.com

Autoethnography: Using Poetry to Grieve-by Devi Nina Bingham

 

      Poetry has long been used to ease sadness, to mourn the passing of loved ones, and to vent the pain of a broken heart. Historically, laments were uttered over the departed during funerals and memorial services in the form of elegies, poetry that expressed sadness. The term "elegy" means "lament" in Greek. They memorialize tragedy, conflict, and death in a somber manner. According to a review by Lourdes Lopes-Ropero (2021) titled "Perimeters of Grief: Elegy in and Out of Bounds in Fred D'Aguiar's Memorial Poetry," the elegy was written by renowned poet Fred D'Aguiar in response to the April 2007 shootings at Virginia Tech, which left 27 students dead on the campus where he worked as a professor. The attacker had taken many of the teacher's English classes, and he questioned whether there was anything more he could have done to help this student who had been having trouble in his lectures.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772–1834), a poet, referred to a lament as a "serious meditative poem." Said he, "The thoughtful mind naturally turns to poetry in the shape of elegy. The elegy's main topics become grief and love since the poet will only express regret for the past or longing for the future in relation to himself.” The definition of an "elegy" on Wikipedia is that it "presents everything as lost and gone, or absent and future." Divorce, in my opinion, is characterized by the feeling that "everything is lost and gone." For many years I have wanted to write an elegy on the feelings and experiences I had after losing my daughter and then my marriage. The 10th anniversary of my daughter's passing allowed me to suddenly access emotions and words that had been latent for all those years. They erupted like oil flowing from a dry well, boiling to the surface and pouring forth. That book is currently being published. Even though my book is about mourning, it is not a eulogy memorializing the dead. What then can it be called?

The eulogy morphed from a funerary tradition into what is known today as autoethnography, which is a written expression of important change points or events in one’s life, such as divorce. Ethnographer Susanne Gannon’s article, “Picking at the Scabs” (2002) chronicled her divorce and states, “The sorts of tales I tell in this text risk being modernist tales about personal loss, recovery, and the self, writing its way out of a painful past." Another unwitting ethnographer is physician and medical educator, Deborah Kasman. In her article, “Writing to Heal Thyself” (2006) the doctor used poetry as a means of healing both the personal pain of her divorce, and the feelings of dealing with the death of an 11-year-old patient. A more recent book of Haiku poetry has the unwieldy title of, “F*ck You Haiku” (2021). It is penned by relationship columnist Kristina Grish, offering slightly angry and very real “little breakup poems to help you vent, heal, and move on.” Last but not least, the paper "Grief, Poetry, and the Sweet Unexpected" by Richard Gold and Elizabeth Jordan (2018) provides solid proof that adolescents who processed trauma by composing poetry experienced psychological gains.

Award-winning poet Fred D' Aguiar honors the victims of the Virginia Tech Massacres in 137 poems taken from his collection "Continental Shelf" (2011) in "Children of Paradise" (2014), which is included in the anthology "Perimeters of Grief: Elegy in and out of Bounds" (Lopes-Ropero, 2021). Says D’ Aguiar of using poetry to elegize: “…to elegize by poetry, when faced with grief, makes marvelous things happen. The event of the poem stages immersion in pain and catharsis from it, the drawer of a hurt relined, thought and felt through. As a result, I found myself writing sonnet after sonnet about April 16, about grief for the dead.” D'Aguiar honors the deceased and expresses regret on behalf of the survivors for failing to recognize the shooter's lethality because some of the victims were his pupils.

When D’Aguiar strays from sonnet form to a more open, lyrical form, professor poet Jahan Ramazani (1994) comments, “Formlessness is a poetry of mourning…with an extraordinary diversity of range, incorporating more anger and skepticism, more conflict and anxiety than ever before.” As a result of recent mass murders and a lack of mourning customs, Ramazani labels the formless elegy as "psycho-poetic," combining elements of psychology's concept of sorrow with the conventional elegy. According to Ramazani, society needs to provide more "credible responses to loss." The article “Perimeters of Grief” makes an argument in favor of the elegy, “that ancient and revered form of poetry, in the face of atrociousness with which modern death continues to confront us” (Lopes-Ropero, 2021).

            Deborah Kasman, a doctor, and teacher, said in "Writing to Heal Thyself" (2006) that she found it soothing to write in a diary about the death of an 11-year-old patient, a practice she terms "reflective writing," even though expressing emotion was discouraged in medical school. When her divorce unexpectedly occurred, she wrote in her notebook, "Divorce is the greatest trauma I had ever experienced." She recalls progressing through the stages of loss: “Grief, anger, reflection, and acceptance, sometimes even forgiveness. Expressing my feelings through poetry enhanced my ability for reclaiming self and embracing life…Reflecting through what I wrote, I can see the stages now.” Kasman says that while the German doctor who brought hospice care to the U.S., Dr. Kubler-Ross’ groundbreaking book, “On Death and Dying” (1993) discusses the stages of bereavement, there are “many kinds of loss having similar psychological effects.” She encourages physicians to “heal themselves” because, “Physicians who are taught it is professional to distance from their emotions rather than embrace empathy for patients, may learn the art of detachment instead, unless they are encouraged to pursue self-expression and healing.”

            Described as "irreverent breakup Haikus," Kristina Grish's "F*uck You Haiku" (2021) is well-liked even if it is quirky poetry. The relationship columnist's own marriage ended, which she describes as "infuriating," and this is how the book came to be. In it, she expresses the hope that it would "help anyone going through a split deal with their heartbreak via poetry." Let this collection of creative poetry from the publisher, Simon and Shuster, "help you say "f*ck you" to that special someone and eventually "I love you" to yourself," the publisher advises.

Over the years, poetry has taken on a variety of forms, including the elegy, autoethnography, and even haiku to help people cope with the pain caused by death, divorce, and breakups. But how can we be sure that using poetry as therapy may help with trauma? An article by Richard Gold and Elizabeth Jordan titled "Grief, Poetry, and the Sweet Unexpected" (2018) is about their Pongo Team Writing Project, a small research study that shows poetry can heal trauma. Teenagers in juvenile detention facilities, homeless shelters, and psychiatric institutions have had access to this poetry writing program in Seattle, Washington, for 22 years. Many of the young people have had devastating losses and struggle with addictions, post-traumatic stress disorder, and criminal behavior. Trauma patients may act out during the writing sessions with bursts of intense emotion or display tension. The Pongo Program was established as a means of interacting with traumatized youngsters since these kids frequently leave therapy. These children's therapists claim that they are writing about traumas that they refused to talk about in treatment. According to program assessments, the residents like the writing program, are proud of their work, have progressed as writers, have discovered more about themselves, and feel better. Residents claim they'll keep writing and use poetry to cope with stress. They also have shared their writing with caregivers.

            Testing also revealed a decrease in the impact of unpleasant events, traumatic sorrow, and depression. Low dropout rates were seen, and symptoms either improved or stabilized. These findings provide hard proof that poetry reading and writing, at least among teens, may be therapeutic. The "sweet, unexpected result" is that caregivers have benefited from the program as well, as "learning a little about poetry, reading poetry, and listening to poetry can be a healing process" (Gold, Jordan, 2018).

Poetry is therapeutic, according to adults from a variety of professions, including a writing student, a university professor, a doctor, the administrators of a psychiatric adolescent program, and a journalist. Do these pieces and a small research study support the hypothesis that poetry might help people recover from the pain of divorce? Without a doubt, no. But when considered collectively, these testimonials show that, from English lamentations to a sardonic 3-line haiku, expressing sadness is a crucial step in recovering from it.

Another term that is frequently used in grief treatment is "closure." To reach the final stage of grieving, acceptance, is what it implies. When I scattered my daughter's ashes, I had attained the stage of acceptance over her passing. However, there are no public funerals or ashes to scatter after a divorce. Even though it is a silent and largely personal loss, it is a significant one. As a result, getting over a divorce might be more difficult. And the ex wasn't killed. One partner may have moved on by having an affair, leaving the lonely partner with a bag of unpleasant emotions and unresolved losses. Divorce is not the same as death. However, to "move on," a divorced individual must also find closure. In my perspective, autoethnography is a wonderfully cathartic tool, and a prime example of the therapeutic usefulness of expressing grief over divorce, trauma, and even mass mortality.

Works Cited

Deborah L. Kasman. Writing to Heal Thyself: Physician as Person & Person as Physician. Journal for Learning through the Arts, (2)1. 2006.

 

Elisabeth Kubler-Ross. On Death and Dying. Scribner Book Company. 1993.

 

Fred D’Aguiar. Bill of Rights. Random House UK. 1998.

 

Fred D’Aguiar. Children of Paradise. Random House UK. 2014.

 

Fred D’Aguiar. Continental Shelf. Carcanet Press Ltd. 2011.

 

George Norlin. Database of Classical Scholars. All Scholars: Norlin, George. Rutgers School of Arts and Sciences. 2022.

             NORLIN, George (rutgers.edu)

 

Jahan Ramazani. Can  Poetry  Console  a  Grieving Public? Poetry Foundation. 2006.

 

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/articles/68676/can-poetry-console-a-grieving-public-56d248486a430

 

Kristina Grish. F*ck You Haiku. S&S/Simon Element. 2021.

 

Lourdes Lopes-Ropero. Perimeters of Grief: Elegy in and Out of Bounds in Fred D’Aguiar’s   Memorial Poetry. Miscelanea. Vol 64. University of Zaragoza. 2021.

 

N. K. Denzin. Interpretative Ethnography: Ethnographic Practices for the 21^st Century. Sage Publications.1997.

 

Richard Gold, Elizabeth Jordan. Grief, Poetry, and the Sweet Unexpected. Death Studies, 07481187, Vol. 42, Issue 1. 2018.

 

Susanne Gannon. “Picking at the Scabs”: A Post structural Feminist Writing Project.

Qualitative Inquiry, Vol. 8, Iss. 5, pp. 670-682. 2002.

           

"Picking at the Scabs": A Post structural Feminist Writing Project (opal-libraries.org)

 

 Wikipedia. Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834). 2021.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge - Wikipedia

           

Yeats's Life and Poetry: A Humanistic Psychological Analysis-by Devi Nina Bingham

Humanistic psychology "...sees creativity as a means of compensating for areas of the personality that are otherwise lacking" (Adler, 1956, referenced by May, 1975, & Frager, Fadimen, 1984). With this bold assertion in mind, I shall evaluate William Butler Yeat's poetry through the Humanist perspective. One may argue that Yeats is one of the greatest poets of the 20th century because of the ways in which his themes, symbols, and metaphors, as well as his fanciful, introspective manner, reveal the breadth of his personal experience and highlight the events that were taking place in Ireland at the time. However, Yeats' main goal in writing poetry was to use it to express himself—his thoughts, opinions, and longings.

Certainly, Yates sought to convert his existence into art, but not in a common day-to-day way. Instead, he used stories from Irish and Greek mythology, and the popular concepts of Spiritualism to speak for him. Yates mixed these subjects with more common stories from English literature, and politics of the time to illustrate his perspective through prose. But was his creativity “compensating for what was lacking in his personality?”

Yeats developed a deep attachment to Ireland at an early age and turned nationalist primarily in opposition to British colonial authority. He became a senator for two terms to serve the Ireland he loved and wanted to protect. His early writings included tales of mythology and mythical figures and praised the grandeur of Ireland. He thought that poetry might be utilized to inform the public, as well as to assess and comment on political events. An artist may escape reality via their work, according to Maslow's Humanist theory of creativity. Furthermore, when effort and higher mental processes are combined, great works of art are the result (Maslow, 1968). Yeats used poetry as a means of escaping the harsh reality of a world that was at war both locally, and nationally.

Despite Yeats' early rejection of Christianity, his lifelong study of mythology, spiritualism, and the occult shows a deep fascination with the paranormal. He built a sophisticated spiritual system in the 1920s and 1930s. By deciphering a mystical collection of symbols, he developed his Spiritualist philosophy, which he then documented in A Vision. His desire to discover mystical truths is comparable to that of psychologist Carl Jung, who created sophisticated theories of creativity that claim that a universal Collective Consciousness provides the inspiration for what he called "visionary art" (quoted by May, 1975). In accordance with Jung's theory, the artist is accountable for disseminating their creations to the general populace since, once connected to the Collective Unconscious, they can access heavenly regions and begin to channel divine thoughts.

Yeats' protracted artistic career began as a romantic poet. His early poems were self-reflective in tone and subject, centered on the desire for love and Irish folklore. His early poetry follows conventional rhyme schemes, meters, and romantic verse forms. The love undertones of Yeats' early poems were inspired by his failed engagement with Maud Gonne. The Adler theory of compensation makes the most sense in this situation. Yeats lacked the means to convince his muse to wed him; his several proposals of marriage were turned down, yet he persisted in expressing his passion for her in poetry. Adler's argument holds that he was so upset by her rejection that he wrote about his sentiments in public, making up for the fact that he would experience unrequited love for most of his life.

People's understanding of themselves and the outside world grows as they age. This may be seen in Yeat's poetry, which evolved from idealistic to pragmatic and straightforward over time. Yeat's poetry evolved with him. The English translation of the German word gestalt is "An integrated whole." As his self-awareness increased, Yeats discovered the personal gestalt he had been seeking in a happy marriage and becoming a parent.

We can all agree that art can be therapeutic. In fact, some art therapists don't even do any psychoanalysis on their patients, instead helping them express their emotions via their creations. Can creating anything through writing, music, or art provide the same results as psychotherapy? Does the unconscious mind have the ability to guide us, much like a therapist, so that the artist might be cured via their art?

Yeats is an example of a person who used creativity to make up for personal shortcomings. But he was politically engaged and wrote about politics, which shouldn't be viewed as a consolation but rather as a direct confrontation with the concerns surrounding Irish independence. His poem "Easter 1916" is a reflection on the British killing of 700 Irish nationalists in Dublin. Yeats was described as "an indisputably great national poet who during a period of anti-imperialist resistance articulates the experiences, the restorative vision of a people suffering under the domination of an offshore power" by Said (1993). Yeat's creative concentration had expanded to include contemporary issues rather than just his own limited perspective. It is usual for artists of all stripes to use their work to make social remarks, and some even believe it is the responsibility of the artist to do so. Did Yeats have a sense of fullness or completion known as a gestalt towards the conclusion of his life?

We need to consider the comments Yeats made in the latter period of his life in order to respond to this. At the height of his renown, the poet passed away in the month of January 1939 on the French Riviera at the age of 73, but not before leaving behind three poems that captured his lingering melancholy. A work on his involvement in the 1916 Easter slaughter called "Man and the Echo" is rife with remorse. In "The Circus Animal's Desertion," he mocks his attempt to use poetry to make a statement. Additionally, he derides his fondness for younger ladies in "Politics." In the Atlantic (2014), Jennie Rothenburg Gritz writes, "All these years later, the three poems are still profoundly unnerving. Yeats was after all an Irish senator, Nobel Prize laureate, and co-founder of his nation's national theater. What hope is there for everyone else if a man like him could look back on a career of achievements and write them off as worthless vanity?”

We may observe a prolific artist who was still secretly at battle with himself based on Yeats' own testimony. He was still consumed by the same forbidden and longed-for love that he had when he first met married lady Maude. He feels gloomy about the overall impact of his poetry and worries that his poems may have sparked the rebellion in 1916. His artistic ability was not a sufficient remedy to rid him of his feelings of inferiority. Like most great artists, he is obviously highly critical of his work and regrets his own inadequacies. Therefore, in Yeat's instance at least, his art did not exonerate the creator of the emptiness he felt on the inside.

Modern readers may find Yeats' poetry to be a perplexing fusion of mysticism, Irish history, and personal contemplation. However, Yeat's goal was always to make his secret romantic desires and longings for a better country known. According to Humanistic psychology, Yeats and other high-caliber performers like them do so for a number of reasons. They could be making up for a lack of something. They can be using their work as an escape from reality. They could be trying to get in touch with the divine. They could be communicating messages from higher worlds. They could be aiming for an "integrated whole," or gestalt. Yeats is still recognized as one of the most relatable poets of all time, despite his critical assessment of himself at the conclusion of his life.

 Works Cited

 Maslow, A. H. (1968). Toward A Psychology of Being. New York: Van Nostrand Reinhold.

 

Said, E. (1993). Yeats and Decolonization. Culture and Imperialism., (New York: Vintage), pp.220-239. Yeats, W.B. and Postcolonialism – Postcolonial Studies (emory.edu)

Perls, F. S. (1969). Gestalt Therapy Verbatim. Real People Press, Lafayette, California.

Gritz, J. R. (2014). The Deathbed Confessions of William Butler Yeats. The Atlantic. The Deathbed Confessions of William Butler Yeats - The Atlantic

 

Fragar, R., & Fadiman, J. (1984). Personality and Psychotherapy. Cambridge : Harper & Row.

 

May, R. (1975). The Courage To Create. Cambridge : Harper & Row.

The Courage to Create by Rollo May-Commentary by Devi Nina Bingham

 

Major themes in the classic. The Courage to Create seem to be the following questions which I will attempt to answer based upon Rollo May's book:

1.    “Why do original ideas in science and art “pop up” from the unconscious at a given time?”

Although posing this issue, May relates that it can never be entirely answered: "I realize the unfinished quality would remain, and it is part of the creative process" (p. 9, May). I believe that the process of artistic production has an element of mystery, of the unknown.

2.     “What is the relation between talent and the creative act, and between creativity and death?”

May says that when it comes to the relationship between creativity and mortality, artists want to be remembered forever. This feeling was also expressed by Mays' contemporary, anthropologist Ernest Becker, who referred to art as "immortality projects" in The Denial of Death (1973, Becker). 

Whatever the artist's motivation, the issue remains: what role does skill play in creativity? May notes varying neurology as a factor in the differences amongst artists. Just as IQ and aptitudes are neurological and genetic/inherited traits, according to May, talent is neurological, just as intelligence is. He also claims that environment influences an artist's inspiration. He adds a third factor that is neurological in nature: the ability to concentrate and maintain attention. May mentions intensity, immersion, complete involvement, degree of awareness, and heightened consciousness as other ingredients of creativity. He claims that joy is born when these components are sustained at a high degree and claims that creativity is mostly an unconscious act. The amount of production is determined by a mix of elements such as neurology (I.Q and E.Q.), aptitudes and talents, heredity, the environment one is in, and the level of attention one can sustain. Human beings invest time in raising children and creating things, including art, so that each may leave a modest imprint on the world. Also, many people suffer from a lack of self-esteem unconsciously, and this unconscious inferiority drives them to produce. I believe it is a dread of insignificance rather than a fear of death that drives many artists.  This is why spending time in meditation when one is not actively thinking, creating, or producing is both challenging and beneficial for people. It allows one to see, I am not only what I can create.

3.     “Why do the arts give us pleasure?”

Expressing ourselves offers us joy and is also mentally restorative, which is why psychotherapy works. In counseling we are free to express our real thoughts and feelings. May also mentions "creative courage," which he defines as the finding of new forms. Courage is a good, empowering sensation, which is why art is enjoyable. It's also a satisfying sensation to see humanity's consciousness grow because of your art. Expression, flexing our courage, and expanding our collective awareness are big enough reasons for artists to keep creating.

4.     “Do artists create the uncreated consciousness of the race?”

When May asks this question, he may be referring to Carl Jung’s theory of the Collective Unconscious. If one believes in Jung’s description of the universal Archetype, then the answer is a resounding yes, because art around the world reflects these common Archetypes. According to Jung, if cultures share Archetypes, then humanity must share a collective psychic and unconscious “database” which he termed the Collective Unconscious. However, if one doesn’t believe that there is a universality of Archetypes and sees it as purely coincidental, or a reflection of a common human sociology, then the question of whether artisans are producing a conscious rendering by the inspiration of the Collective Unconscious would not be possible.

I do believe in a Collective Unconscious as Jung depicted it. I do not believe it is happenstance that all cultures share Archetypes in common. It can be argued that because all of humanity originally ushered from a single genetic source, that the Archetypes are only a genetic echo of our ancient past. But the fact that these Archetypes have remained largely unchanged over millions of years tells me that this is a knowledge that all of humanity has innately that has kept our social understanding very much the same.

Lastly, May discusses the Types of Courage by breaking them down into four types:

1.     Physical Courage-Heroism and myths of survival and violence.

2.     Moral Courage-May defines this as an understanding that people are inherently valuable apart from what they can do for society.

3.     Perceptual Courage-To see the suffering of others.

4.     Social Courage-The courage to relate to other human beings with an increasing openness.

5.     Creative Courage-May believed that real art must not be a hobby, but “the creative process must be explored” (p.67, May) and this exploration should lead to self-actualization.

May is correct to say that creative thoughts cannot be foreseen; they must emerge spontaneously from the subconscious. This is both beneficial and harmful for an artist because artists, like everyone else, have deadlines. Those deadlines frequently fail to account for the time it takes the unconscious to provide new inspirations.

I've seen a link between genetics and creative skill. Musical talent runs in families, and I've seen that creative talent does as well. For example, in my own family, my brother and his kid both play the drums, I play guitar and piano, and my father played the violin. Musicality, like painting, sculpture, and sketching, may be learnt. If you have not inherited a creative talent, it may be learned if you put in the effort and writing works in the same manner. It is also something that can be learnt. However, I believe that the finest artists show potential from an early age.

When it comes to the question of why creation makes us happy, I can only think of one reason: expressiveness. Writing helps me to express profound emotions through poetry or book writing that I cannot express in ordinary interactions with others. Unless you're among intellectuals, you don't sit around talking about existential questions, philosophy, or profound sentiments in day-to-day common conversations. However, it is allowed when it is written, drawn, painted, or sculpted. Art provides a medium through which I can express myself deeply and meaningfully.

        He defines "unconscious" as "the potentialities for awareness or action which the individual cannot or will not actualize" (p. 52), or "free creativity." In May's account, the unconscious mind "broke through in opposition to the conscious belief to which I was clinging" (p. 55). Carl Jung believed in a dialectic relationship between the awareness and the unconscious (p. 55). The unconscious, according to May, "delights in breaking through and breaking up exactly what we cling to most rigidly" (p. 56). May says that when we get unconscious insights, our consciousness is already working on addressing a problem or inventing something new. "The idea, the new form that suddenly becomes present," May writes, "came in order to complete an incomplete Gestalt with which I was struggling in conscious awareness" (p. 59). May observes that these insights happen while we are relaxed and not actively engaged on the problem.

             May also suggests that seclusion is required for creation (p. 64). "In order to receive insights from our unconscious, we must be able to devote ourselves to solitude" (p. 64). He claims that when an artist is actively influenced by inspiration, it might appear to them as a spiritual experience (p. 66). He claims that people "put tools and machines between themselves and the unconscious world" (p.67), and I couldn't help but think of mobile phones and email as examples. He observes that these technologies first serve as defensive mechanisms against thinking. Such barriers, he claims, keep us from experiencing the unconscious creation of poetry, music, and other forms of art (p. 68). He goes on to claim that “Dogmatists of all kinds are threatened by the creative freedom of the artist” (p. 74).

             May suggests that "creativity occurs in an encounter and is to be understood through this encounter with its center" (p.77). He explains this by noting that to "encounter" anything is to experience it in a way that is unique to oneself. Finally, "out of the encounter is born the work of art" (p. 85). The experience gives birth to a new art form that he refers to as "symbols and myths" (p. 87).

             The degree of passion or intensity to creative contribution is vital, and May believes that younger university students lack passion and dedication (p. 88). Another factor that all artists must deal with if they want to become productive is artist anxiety (p. 93). I agree that if there is little or no disturbance in the artist's head, his art will have nothing to communicate. When he wrestles with questions, though, art is born. May refers to this "wrestling" as "passion." More specifically, I feel that this struggle is an attempt to disentangle and grasp reality. I'd put it this way: artists are on a quest for the ultimate truth. I say truth because that is what art is: a statement about the truth that lies underneath conscious layers of explanation. And it is for this reason, as May points out, that poets are revolutionaries. They are telling the truth. As a result, the political establishment does not value them. This wrestling, and the emotion it produces, results in the artist's distinct representation. 

            He changes gears and explores ancient Greece's prophetic oracles, demonstrating how their "madness" was part of their genius and how artists have been labeled as "mad." He asks, "Does the artist need a touch of madness, what Plato called "prophetic madness" (p. 113), to produce original, worthwhile art?" My response to this question is that artists think differently than accountants or mathematicians. Artists can conceive and perceive "outside of the box." They may artistically communicate via works of art what non-artists can only enjoy but cannot generate because of their non-linear, unique way of perceiving the world.

Creativity is the ability to see what isn't there. The creative sensation and urge must emerge from the formally unconscious. The artist who has opened the door to the subconscious may look "mad," or as the Greeks would have put it, "inspired by the Gods." In this sense, as May implies, artists must be touched by lunacy, which is simply the unconscious rising. However, studies have shown that mental illnesses such as depression and bipolar disorder are associated with higher levels of creative talent (Kay Redfield Jamison, 1996). Some artists have a neurological peculiarity that predisposes them to creativity. However, because many artists are not mentally ill, their artistic troubles are caused by an ability to "tap into" or be more open to unconscious creative instructions rather than by neurology.

         Because I was a Gestalt Therapist, I took note of May's usage of the word "Gestalt." It was his idea that the unconscious attempts to complete the unfinished Gestalts in our lives, which of course it does; this is one of the unconscious' fundamental goals. To me, this is a self-evident assertion. I believe that art is little more than a person's unconscious attempt to unite, or make whole, that person's mind. Because it is our most powerful survival strategy, the unconscious is always attempting to make us healthier and happier. The conscious mind becomes disturbed and behaves in ways that are detrimental to our health and well-being, but the unconscious mind will never push us towards the detrimental. Having said that, my experience has shown me that the unconscious is highly protective, and to those ends, it will support detrimental behavior if it felt it would make us happier and protect us. Take the habit of smoking, for example. Although the conscious mind understands that smoking is unhealthy, the unconscious will encourage the continuance of a bad habit since it soothes and relaxes the smoker. The unconscious is infantile in this regard. While May claims that the unconscious encourages Gestalt, what he doesn't say is that it can "love too much" and may fail to understand that what pleases and pacifies us immediately may not be the greatest thing for us in the long run. The unconscious is terribly short-sighted, the way a child is. 

        May starts his discussion of boundaries and art with a bold statement: "Limits are not only unavoidable in human life, but they are also valuable" (p. 116). He argues that there would be no innovation if there was no battle against anything, no resistance. The first constraint that he introduces is universal: death, a physical limitation. Then he cites that another limitation we all face is the intellect being determined by genetic and environmental constraints (p. 117).

             In the world of art, limits are merely a matter of form. Furthermore, "form provides the essential boundaries and structure for the creative act" (p. 120). Structure permits us to make meaning and draw order from form. As a result, according to May, "On the one hand, when an individual insists on his or her own subjectivity and follows exclusively his or her own imagination, we have a person whose flights of fancy may be interesting but who never really relates to the objective world" (p. 122). He distinguishes two types of form: inward and outward, or internal and external. The defined regulations that the art form demands are the exterior form, while the artist's thoughts, views, and talents contribute spontaneously to the interior shape. Formalism is another term for exterior form. May makes the point that imagination transcends form: “Artists typically have powerful imaginations,” (p.126).

In general, I agree with May on the importance of form. We all have limitations; however, these should not be viewed as a sign of weakness or failure, but rather as phenomenological distinctions. Our bodies, brains, emotions, and behaviors are uniquely ours. As a result, we should not feel embarrassed by our limits because they give us a unique voice, and isn't that what artists, authors, and musicians are applauded for--the uniqueness of their expression? Individuality at work is what creativity is all about. Our constraints are distinctively ours, but at the same time, they do not define us. A person can be a terrible writer and still be a good person.

The issue with form is that it is used for comparison. It is natural for us to compare, but since we do, anyone who does not fit into the existing quo might be labeled an outsider or a misfit and become a target for exclusion. When someone's limits are seen as unacceptable, this is the dark side of form. Form is undoubtedly "unavoidable," as May puts it, and provides us with limits through which we may organize and make sense of the universe.

However, creativity knows no bounds; therefore, artists are the keepers of boundlessness. What I mean is, the artist has limitations, and structure in which to work. At the same time, it is his responsibility to rise beyond the banal, to create something that challenges limits. When an artist deviates from the conventions and interprets his surroundings in a novel way, he achieves originality. It is a challenge that the artist faces every time he decides to create. How original am I going to allow myself to be? I believe this is what May meant when he said that all artists experience creative "anxiety."

Art critics prefer formulas because they make assessing and analyzing art much simpler, which is why formulae are taught in schools (p. 93). He expands on his thesis, which may be called Art Development, or the process by which art evolves. According to him, "works of the mind exist only in action" (p.98). In other words, no one can claim intellectual property unless there is a visible, tangible embodiment of it, at the very least a prototype. In my perspective, art can only be assessed by its output. For example, words like Coca-Cola's "It's the real thing" have stuck with me since I first heard it performed by a choir and repeatedly replayed on television until it became associated with the product. Thoughts that become slogans must be linked to a physical object, such as the iconic Coca-Cola logo and curving glass bottle, otherwise the phrase loses its meaning. We need labels to identify Coca-Cola from other brands, else we can't tell them apart.

Applying this concept to art, the term "abstract" implies nothing in and of itself; it must be wedded to a piece of art, such as Dali's Surrealist representations before we can identify art which resembles his abstractions. Dali's pictures and sculptures do not make sense to the logical mind until we realize they are abstractions of reality, at which point we may embrace them. Further, they have no practical relevance in the realm of art until an art critic labels a piece this or that. Our minds require practical monikers to interpret what they perceive and make judgements. While labels may be unpleasant because they categorize and therefore restrict, the logical mind requires classifications, and hence, like a necessary evil, we must use form to classify.

Works Cited

Ernest Becker. The Denial of Death. Free Press. 1973.

 Rollo May. The Courage to Create. Norton & Co., NY. 1975.