Language taught and used in the classroom is primarily the language of communication and exchange, language as currency, language learnt in preparation for functioning in a society which runs along particular linguistic tracks. But what is our own language to us? The language in which we think, in which we dream?
Personally speaking I am not at all sure if I think in language or not, and words in my dreams are even rarer. When I write, however, purely for pleasure or from internal need to write, I find that words begin to occupy that thinking/dreaming space, although maybe not in direct relation, as a dream may use symbols to simultaneously reveal and hide the grounds of its birth, its possible meanings. And when words come out of this place, it feels like the greatest gift which language is. Is this something we can facilitate in our students? Is it possible to let a second language into such an intimate place?
The answer depends, of course, on the individual. I find it difficult to write poetry in Polish for more than grammatical reasons. But it seems to be the case that the more strongly we identify ourselves as writers the harder it is to free up our boundaries. We identify with the product rather than the process. Many students, however, despite my exhortations to write in Polish if they find it easier, (when the focus in the class is on poetry, not on language, obviously!) have cheerfully written poem after poem in English. This is a most encouraging sign. It is after all the process of writing that fosters true intimacy with, and eventually freedom in a language.
A good way to begin is by providing a framework, a springboard from which the lines can jump, a repetitive form which sets the brain into an automatic pattern within which creative leaps can be made. An example with which I have had great success, taken from Sherman Alexie's poem "Elegies", is to write a poem in which every line begins "this is a poem for..."(in Alexie's original, "for people who died in stupid ways". In the classroom I remember "This is a poem for those who butcher languages, terribly", and "this is not a poem for squirrels" ). Another easy starter is "I am the woman/man/girl/boy who..." or "I remember". When dealing with personal material, the distancing factor of using a second language can be liberating: "I'm the woman who loves animals/but who doesn't have any animals, not even a goldfish/ I'm the woman who listens to Elvis Presley/when nobody is home/and it's raining outside"
One of the most helpful aspects of creative writing for students is the sudden release from many of the rules which govern "written language"(eg the strict conventions of letter writing). I always stress that when writing the first draft all conventions of punctation, spelling and grammar may be cheerfully ignored. Words can be chosen on any basis at all. Traditionally writing is approached externally, from the form to the content (eg, "using the following expressions/linking words......"). Whereas poetry is, of course, governed by its own logic, and maybe by strict external rules, the original impulse must be internal, and if it is not preserved the poem will be a lifeless artefact of what could have been better written in prose. It can be a revolutionary experience for a student to stop using the rational part of their brain in order to produce written English, and start using the intuitive part. It is hard enough for native speakers to silence their inner critic for long enough to produce fresh vital writing which remains close to its source.
One of the most effective techniques for "bypassing the critic" in the initial stages of composition is timed writing. Give yourself and your students a five or ten minute period in which to write on a given subject, or, better still, with a given line to return to, or a constraint such as: every line must be a question. ("Do you like the feel of a cold, used teabag?/What is your first thought when you wake up in the morning?" ; "Why do I remember the shoes of men who affected me, and not their faces?"; "Is a wolf really hungry? /Is a mule always stupid?/ Is a fox sly?/ Is a peacock proud?" "What do the angels do after work?/Do they take off their/ haloes and wings?/ Do they drink in some heavenly pubs?") You must not pause for a second, nor look back at what you have written. This exercise, even if nothing the students consider "worthwhile" has been produced, is always energising, and stops them trying to be William Blake!
To start a creative writing lesson I present a few examples of poems written under similar conditions, or any poems I think are inspiring and appropriate. (I can provide a limited number of example poems for the exercises listed here if anyone wants to contact me via e mail.) The poems should be accessible, and full of concrete details if possible. Poems written by the teacher are always extra-interesting to students! I try not to get too much into literary analysis of the poems or discussion, to use them as initial stimulus rather than "models". Then I introduce the concept of timed writing as being a way to let your imagination come out to play, and the concept of poetry being as natural as breathing. We all write for a set period and then after a while looking back at our own work we share it with the rest of the class. I am always ready to allow people not to share if it's too personal, but this has only happened once. Other students usually react with excitement to each other's work, and there is a good opportunity then to discuss how the poems work and how effective they are, leading on to characteristics of a good poem. I make sure comments are always constructive, and point out all the positive things in each poem. Students write up their poems at home, and I correct errors and give extensive written feedback.
We are used to writing being disassociated from the messy creative process of verbal communication, which is driven by desire. We are used to regarding the written piece as a product, a perfect monologue preserved. Creative writing in the classroom is a way of revitalising written language with the energy we generate in conversation both with others and with ourselves.