We
 saw the new Harry Potter movie the other night. I didn’t like it as 
well as the last one. A velocity issue, I think. The previous one I 
recall as being quietly menacing; this one was things coming at you fast
 with loud scary music. One line, however, endeared this one to me. The 
villain, a bureaucrat acting as teacher, tells the students at one point
 that something, a new textbook I think, will help them pass the 
examination, and that is, after all, the point of education—to pass the 
examination. She is convincingly portrayed as a truly awful person and 
yet one we are all familiar with, and her statement seems the logical 
extension of the No-child-left-behind philosophy of education. 
                 
                I
 told my friend Judy Fjell some educational observations of mine—she 
teaches music in public schools—and she asked me to write them up for 
her. I pass them on to you, because they are about the parts of every 
child that get left behind when test scores mean everything and only 
reading, writing and math are tested—not science, not the social 
sciences, and most certainly none of the arts. 
                 
                WORD WEAVING
                Around
 1982 I was in a project in a number of Bay Area schools where a few 
classes in each school were given extra storytelling, both from pros 
like me and from the classroom teachers who had attended workshops we 
gave. At the end of a year, the children were tested, along with 
same-grade children who had not had storytelling. The storytelling 
children were very slightly better in reading scores, vocabulary tests, 
recall of story elements, etc., but not in statistically significant 
ways. The statistically significant difference came in the following 
test. The children were told a story they hadn’t heard and then asked 
what happened next. The control group typically answered “Probably the 
same thing,” or “I don’t know...she didn't say.” The Word Weaving group 
typically added new, imaginative story elements.
                 
                The
 teachers also reported that in their observation, their classes’ 
listening skills improved more in the year they did storytelling than in
 previous years. Some teachers reported that the storytelling seemed 
particularly useful in drawing out shy and ESL students. I had an 
example of that in one fifth-grade class with several ESL students. I 
had just done a string-trick story, then, on impulse, I made the 
cat’s-cradle opening and asked if anyone would come up and do it with 
me. An Asian girl came up, and we went through the whole sequence. I 
thanked her and she sat down. As I was leaving, the teacher told me she 
had just come to this country, had been in school about a week, and this
 was the first time she had volunteered to do anything.*
                 
                VIDEO STORYTELLING
                Also
 in the eighties, I flew to Indianapolis to have four stories recorded 
by a videotape company that was putting out a series of eight or so 
storytelling videotapes. I asked for a fifth and sixth grade audience 
and that’s what I got.
                 
                A
 few months later, I got a phone call from the company. They wanted to 
add some drawings here and there in the stories on my tape The marketing
 people felt they were needed because in test showings the children 
didn’t keep their eyes on the screen. I explained that in storytelling 
they didn’t need to. Sometimes they were looking at me, sometimes they 
were looking at scenes from the story in their mind’s eye. The guy 
didn’t buy that. I told him about a five-year-old newcomer at a library 
story hour who seemed too busy looking all around him to take in the 
stories. Then at the next story hour, his mother reported that he 
recounted all the stories to his father. You can’t tell by looking if 
they’re listening or not. He still felt they needed pictures. I got very
 loud. We had several loud phone calls. Luckily I was at a week-long 
storytelling workshop and got lots of support from the other tellers. 
                 
                I
 explained to the guy that his test was not valid for video, that it was
 for a different medium, TV, where the station is selling the kids’ eyes
 to the advertisers, but he is selling videos to the kids’ parents, and 
the test should be whether they want to view the tapes again another 
day. No dice. I threatened to bad-mouth the videos in my workshops and 
classes.
                 
                Finally,
 he said he would not have pictures inserted in my tape because the 
stories were for older kids, but he would put them in the other tapes.
                 
                “SINK” STORY
                I
 was in a training weekend for artists in residence in Idaho schools. 
The trainer said, “I’m going to say a word and I want you to note the 
first thought that comes to your mind when I say it. The word is 
‘sink’.” Then she asked us what our responses were. Somebody saw the 
noun, a kitchen sink. Somebody saw the verb, a ship sinking. I (mostly a
 kinesthetic thinker) thought a downward motion. The professional 
musician among us saw a recording studio. Huh? Well, he explained, he 
heard ‘synch’.
                 
                The
 leader asked if anyone had seen the written word, SINK. Nobody had. But
 that’s the main way we expect kids to learn, she said, and we think the
 arts are dispensable.
                 
                In
 fairness, I have since met one person who says she sees words running 
under her mental image screen like news flashes on TV, and she said 
she’d met two others in her life who think that way, but they seem to be
 a small minority. Anybody out there have this experience?
                 
                MULTIPLE INTELLIGENCES
                Some
 years ago, I went to a “Kids in Creeks” conference at Mills College. In
 one of the big auditoriums there, a series of teachers was presenting 
work they had done with kids in creeks, all very impressive. Then a 
group of fifth graders presented the work they had done the previous 
year in fourth grade. The state provides a list of creatures endangered 
in each county. Of several in Marin, they chose a tiny shrimp that lives
 in the streams. Because cattle had been trampling the foliage that 
shaded the streams, the poor little shrimp were huddled under highway 
overpasses for shade. The kids campaigned to get ranchers to fence the 
streams. Kids also raised money for native plants they would plant to 
replace the trampled ones. 
                 
                I
 was so impressed with the aplomb with which these kids faced an 
auditorium full of teachers that I went to their breakout session. They 
described forming committees, some to design t-shirts, some to sell 
them, some to keep track of their earnings, some to talk to the 
ranchers, some to write press releases, and so on. At question time, I 
said I had two questions. I asked the kids if they had had any 
experience with committees before, in Scouts or anything, and they said 
they had not, it just seemed like the way to get things done. I then 
said to the teacher, “I have just been reading a book about the seven intelligences,
 and it seems like these kids were dividing up and working to their 
strengths--artistic, mathematical, people skills--and I wondered if you 
were thinking about multiple intelligences as you taught.” She replied, 
“When you’re dealing with the real world, you use all the 
intelligences.” 
                 
                Back to the movies: we saw Ratatouille
 a few weeks ago and it got my mother’s “Pied Piper” singing in my mind.
 Some reviewers couldn’t get past the eeww factor of seeing rats in the 
kitchen, cooking. We loved the movie. Charming, knowing, and only one 
car chase. Maybe I’d been softened up by the lines in my mother’s song “The Pied Piper” 
                 
                Rats, rats, everywhere,
In the kitchen and down the stair,
Rocking babies in their cradles,
Tasting soup in the cooks' soup ladles...
                Anyway,
 I got to thinking about the Pied Piper. Yes, it’s a story about the 
danger of not keeping promises. If you were raised like I was, you might
 also see it as being specifically about not paying a worker, especially
 a charismatic guy like this piper. But I’m now seeing it as a story 
about not paying the music teacher and losing the kids. 
                It
 isn’t just that the arts are worth-while in themselves, or that they 
can help teach other subjects. It isn’t just that they cultivate what 
I’ve heard called “studio habits of mind”—a combination of openness to 
new ideas and persistence in the work. It’s that for some kids it’s the 
only thing school offers that they care about, just as for some kids 
it’s sports. If we cut or short-change these “frills,” kids are more 
likely to drop out, or if they’re too young to drop out, to check out.
                ©2007 by Nancy Schimmel
                 
                *A
 report on the Word Weaving storytelling study was published by the two 
foundations that funded it: Effects of Storytelling: An Ancient Art for 
Modern Classrooms. Catharine Horne Farrell and Denise D. Nessel. ©1982, 
The Zellerbach Family Fund and the San Francisco Education Fund.