The Joy of Real Writing

Apparently, Wes Streeting, the Health Secretary in the UK is worried about ‘overdiagnosis’.  Those interested in the debate about that might want to read a new book ‘The Age of Diagnosis: sickness, health and why medicine has gone too far’ by esteemed neurologist Dr Diane O’Sullivan. It seems that diseases, disorders and conditions are proliferating. It’s hard to keep up. I thought I was up to date on the health-related issues that can inhibit children’s learning in school, but I have only just become aware of ‘auditory processing disorder’ (APD). Children’s education can be hampered by their inability to aware of where sound is coming from and the significance for example of the teacher’s voice rather than the peripheral noise from classmates’ chatter or the sound of a sports match going on outside the window. A child who has suffered a series of ear infections, for example, might develop APD.  Cases of this unfortunate condition may well be multiplying because so many Gen Z kids are using noise cancellation headphones which means that they are not developing the skills of filtering out background noise and tuning in to what they need to concentrate on. This might be an auditory source, but it might be their own thoughts.

In the light of the above I am feeling quite pleased with myself because I don’t seem to suffer in this regard. I am fortunate because I write in weird and wonderful places and can still concentrate on my writing.  My favourite location for writing is Dimples, a café in my hometown. The ambient sound is mix of non-intrusive, instrumental jazz recorded just for cafes and conversation between friends and relatives doing ‘catch-up’.  I am not distracted by all this in the slightest.  On the contrary, it seems to help me to think and write.

Why write?

Thank you to John Naughton for the reminder, in his daily newsletter, of the distinction between those who believe that writing is about putting on paper what you think and those who believe that writing is a means to think. John cites E M Forster for this but, as is often the case with such pearls of wisdom, attribution is complicated.  I am firmly in the camp of those who believe that writing is the pre-eminent learning process. I am happiest when sitting tapping away on my mac air at Dimples, exploring my thinking and discovering where it will take me. The challenge of constructing a sentence has been made so much easier by our electronic devices. I speak as one who still remembers the time before we were blessed with word-processing. What agonies, sitting with biro in hand, anxiously waiting for the arrival of clarity about how to begin the sentence. The pressure of having to get it right first time led to hesitancy and often moving on from one mediocre sentence to another rather than spoil the page with endless crossings out. Now, it is so easy to start a sentence and then re-construct it.

It is sad that generations of young people seem to be having the joy of writing schooled out of them. I don’t talk to young people very often these days but when I do, I am told that when you are not actually sitting in an exam room writing, you are sitting in a classroom practising for the test to come. It is hardly surprising that kids come to see writing, not as an emancipatory activity but simply as work. I am using the word ‘work’ here to signify labour rather than self-directed creativity, what Karl Marx called alienation.  Children might be forgiven for thinking that when assigned a writing task, they might as well get it done quickly by using ChatGPT because getting it done is the point.  Of course, there is joy in completing a task but far more to be had from experiencing writing as a process through which we can come to know the world and know ourselves better. The teachers I meet are frustrated by this systemic trend. They naturally want their students to revel in literacy, deriving joy from reading, writing and being creative but they find themselves fighting a losing battle against the culture of performativity.

Did I mention that I have been working on a book? Yes, I was thrilled to be able to submit the manuscript of Teachers and the Practice of Leadership: enabling change for transformation and social justice on time.  To meet the deadline and turn in a text that is academically rigorous yet readable required an intense level of concentration. There was no time for any other kind of writing. Even a shopping list seemed an indulgence. Now, I have resumed my blogging, and I will complete another book, In pursuit of enhanced teacher professionality: a story of praxis. This is a curated collection of my previously published papers about teacher leadership. But beyond these epistemic endeavours, there are other purposes to writing which some might construe as leisure pursuits and others as therapy. Like many others, I have discovered that I can use writing to make sense of my life through a haphazard series of vignettes. Perhaps they may eventually coagulate into a sort of memoire. The reflection and sense-making this writing entails feels good, so I am not concerned about whether it has a readership or whether I complete the task. The process is the point.