Sometimes magic happens

...when I give feedback

We can all identify moments of learning that have changed

our lives. The changes themselves may have been big or small

but the sources of the changes often lie in the apparently

trivial, inconsequential events that surround us. Even when we

witness the big magic performances, it is often a little detail

that can spark our learning.

These moments of learning help shape who we are and build

our sense of identity. They are individualised: what works as

magic for one person may have no impact at all on the next

person. We can probably all recall large segments of our

schooling that had no impact on us at all or that even turned

us off education. We enrol in a course to find that it is

uninspiring and irrelevant. We visit a counsellor but go away

feeling unheard and unhelped. We hear of a great presenter

who is conducting a workshop and we are excited and

hopeful, but the chemistry doesn't work. We are unmoved.

Moments of learning can be elusive.

At times we may desperately want to learn or change or grow, but the experience just doesn't happen. Because of such

disappointment, it is easy to regard moments of learning as

fleeting, random and capricious. They can't be predicted and

can't be controlled. Libraries are full of books by philosophers,

psychologists and educators who try to describe and predict

how learning occurs. Yet so much of our learning has a feeling

of serendipity - if it happens, it happens.

Many SOON readers will already be familiar with Sometimes Magic, a set of colourful laminated cards published by Innovative Resources, featuring Australian native wildlife. These cards depict the many ways in which learning occurs - all through the eyes of the learner.

Sometimes Magic is proof that none of Innovative Resources' card sets are finished acts of creation. We like to think of all our resources as evolving tools, just as our awareness of social justice needs to keep evolving. Because of this, we greatly appreciate your comments, criticisms and suggestions. 

The latest edition of Sometimes Magic has an extra card due to feedback we have recieved. This card is 'I play' and features playful and inquisitive dingo pups. We hope it will open up all kinds of important conversations about learning through play.

So, yes, we would like to hear from you, even if it is simply to

tell us that you think Sometimes Magic is brilliant! Equally, we would like to hear any ideas for improvements.  

Contact the SOON mailbox with your comments.

View this resource on our website

A ladle full of stories

Discovering our creative potential

By Jenni Sharman

Author and storyteller Tanya Batt has a theory that we are all born with 'mouth cutlery' the tools by which we feed ourselves and others. 'Some people have forked tongues, others knives that cut, others have great ladles that generously fill and refill. There are stirrers and those with silver spoons, but mine is a story spoon,' she says.

In Australia recently as part of the 2006 National Book Week celebrations, Tanya's belief in the power of storytelling to foster imaginative and creative potential has seen her invited to perform and teach all over the world.

But why storytelling?

'To me a story is how we make sense of the world. As humans we have what I call a "narrative drive". We are born into a world where people have been telling stories for thousands of years, and our brain is wired for language acquisition. However our understanding of story is something that both develops and is learnt.

'Children who hear and tell stories have the opportunity to become more skilful listeners, language users, problem solvers and communicators. The mental flexibility exercised through imaginative thinking is an important stage in the development of higher order thought processes.

'Stories are also an opportunity to use the imaginary to make sense of reality. Within the framework of the story we can experience a wide range of emotions and situations that may not be immediately available to us. Stories from other cultures, for example, can provide insight into values and assumptions different from our own.

'Traditional stories in particular, with common themes such as love, grief, fear, joy and death also allow children to access a playful, subtle kind of wisdom distilled over centuries.'

Born in New Zealand , the eldest of seven children, Tanya became a storyteller to her younger siblings. When they outgrew her tales she exercised her passion for stories through theatre, writing and public speaking.

Tanya has listened to many talented storytellers from around the world and says that each person's telling style is inseparable from how they experience themselves and the world around them. 'That is what makes storytelling such a rare and precious gift,' she says.

'The stories I choose to tell reflect an evolving sense of self. Some, like old favourite clothes, have stayed with me, while others, no longer comfortably fitting, have been surrendered along the way.

'What is truly important, is that which motivates and inspires us to share a particular story. To understand that, we first have to understand our own story.'

Tanya Batt is the author of The Fabrics of Fairytale (2000), The Terrible Queue (2001), Imagined Worlds (2001), A Child's Book of Faeries (2002), The Faery's Gift (2003) and Dance Upon a Time (2004). Her latest book, The Story Sack (2006), will be available soon from Innovative Resources.

For more details, visit Tanya's website.

New on Our Shelf List...

The Gentle Art of Gifting

By Russell Deal , Director, Innovative Resources

There is a story written by Robert Fulgham, the author of All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten and a handful of other delightful books. It is about a minister (Fulgham himself) who was asked to officiate at the funeral of a teacher. After the service he noticed a group of young men standing together. He introduced himself to the group and confirmed that these men were all former students of the teacher.

One young man pulled out his wallet and unfolded a deeply creased letter that he read to the group. It was a letter the teacher had written to him some 10 years previously in which the teacher had described the potential of this student. This young man was so moved by his teacher's thoughtful encouragement that he kept the letter and had treasured it ever since. Many of the others had received similar letters from this teacher.

This story epitomises what must be a universal experience-that of being gifted with something that becomes a powerful, personal, life-affirming symbol.

At Innovative Resources we are priviledged to hear many wonderful stories about unique ways of gifting. For example, a parenting education group in the Blue Mountains of New South Wales created laminated bookmarks using our stickers. Sometimes they wander through the train giving these out as gifts to parent-commuters!

Thoughtful, inexpensive and appropriate gifts have the power to inspire and build treasured memories. They are a rich source of transformative possibilities. Of course, giving an artifact such as a letter, a poem, or a symbolic affirmation should be done carefully, respectfully and without any implied obligation or expected reciprocity.

Gifting seen in this context is precious and powerful. This is the spirit of gifting that we try to explore in our bookstore and workshops. Whoever we are, we can all consider the hope-enhancing possibilities of a letter, a poem, a sticker or a postcard.

* Fulgham, R 1988, All I really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten , Ivy Books, New York .

Keep an eye on the Innovative Resources website for our Summer Gift Catalogue. Online from mid-October, it's full of fun and soulful gifts with the power to inspire and transform.

Goodbye

Two weeks before Christmas, and Jill was thumbing through her address book, trying to separate the necessaries from the get-away-withs; the hard-copy friends and family from the email acquaintances.

Rosemary's name gave her such a jolt that the pen slipped from her grasp. It had been ten months since the accident, but there was her name, as real, as indelible, as anyone living. And below it, the muddle of crossed-out addresses that filled a page on their own - some of them in Rosemary's familiar scrawl.

Jill picked up the pen and held it above the page. How do you erase a best friend? A tear smudged the letter 'R'. She hadn't reckoned on having to say goodbye all over again.

© JH 2005