Science and Fiction: Your Brain and the Power of Story

Much of the material from this post came from Your Brain on Fiction,
By Annie Murphy Paul  published in the NY Times on 3/17/12



When history was shared with me through story I never had a problem recalling the sequence of events or geography of the place.  I knew that stories somehow helped me remember and I knew it helped others remember as well.

Researchers have long known that the “classical” language regions, like Broca’s area and Wernicke’s area, are involved in how the brain interprets written words. What scientists have come to realize in the last few years is that narratives activate many other parts of our brains as well, suggesting why the experience of reading can feel so alive. Words like “lavender,” “cinnamon” and “soap,” for example, elicit a response not only from the language-processing areas of our brains, but also those devoted to dealing with smells.  The brain, it seems, does not make much of a distinction between reading about an experience and encountering it in real life; in each case, the same neurological regions are stimulated. Keith Oatley, an emeritus professor of cognitive psychology at the University of Toronto (and a published novelist), has proposed that reading produces a vivid simulation of reality, one that “runs on minds of readers just as computer simulations run on computers.” Fiction — with its redolent details, imaginative metaphors and attentive descriptions of people and their actions — offers an especially rich replica. Indeed, in one respect novels go beyond simulating reality to give readers an experience unavailable off the page: the opportunity to enter fully into other people’s thoughts and feelings.

In 2011, Raymond Mar, a psychologist at York University in Canada, performed an analysis of 86 fMRI studies, published  in the Annual Review of Psychology, and concluded that there was substantial overlap in the brain networks used to understand stories and the networks used to navigate interactions with other individuals — in particular, interactions in which we’re trying to figure out the thoughts and feelings of others. Scientists call this capacity of the brain to construct a map of other people’s intentions “theory of mind.” Narratives offer a unique opportunity to engage this capacity, as we identify with characters’ longings and frustrations, guess at their hidden motives and track their encounters with friends and enemies, neighbors and lovers.

As I continue to examine the curricula we offer to our students, I keep the importance of reading stories in mind.  In the past few years we have placed a great deal of emphasis on non-fiction reading, and I think this was important because it had been neglected.  However, too often in education we let the pendulum swing with   a treacherous arc . When we discover something worthwhile, we abandon all else. Students need to read from a broad range of genres.

Dr. Oatley and Dr. Mar, in collaboration with several other scientists, reported in two studies, published in 2006 and 2009, that individuals who frequently read fiction seem to be better able to understand other people, empathize with them and see the world from their perspective. This relationship persisted even after the researchers accounted for the possibility that more empathetic individuals might prefer reading novels.  These findings will affirm the experience of readers who have felt illuminated and instructed by a novel, who have wept with Charlotte and Wilbur, and admired Atticus Finch.

Mother Moon

This is an old Indian story and one of my favorites.

Once upon a time, a long, long while ago, the Sun, the Wind, and the Moon were three sisters, and their mother was a pale, lovely Star that shone, far away, in the dark evening sky.

One day their uncle and aunt, who were no more or less than the Thunder and Lightning, asked the three sisters to have supper with them, and their mother said that they might go. She would wait for them, she said, and would not set until all three returned and told her about their visit.

So the Sun in her dress of gold, the Wind in a trailing dress that rustled as she passed, and the Moon in a wonderful gown of silver started out for the party with the Thunder and Lightning. Oh, it was a supper to remember! The table was spread with a cloth of rainbow. There were ices like the snow on the mountain tops, and cakes as soft and white as clouds, and fruits from every quarter of the earth. The three sisters ate their fill, especially the Sun and the Wind, who were very greedy, and left not so much as a crumb on their plates. But the Moon was kind and remembered her mother.  She hid a part of her supper in her long, white fingers to take home and share with her mother, the Star.

Then the three sisters said good-bye to the Thunder and Lightning and went home. When they reached there, they found their mother, the Star, waiting and shining for them as she had said she would.

"What did you bring me from the supper?" she asked.

The Sun tossed her head with all its yellow hair in disdain as she answered her mother.

"Why should I bring you anything?" she asked. "I went out for my own pleasure and not to think of you."

It was the same with the Wind. She wrapped her flowing robes about her and turned away from her mother.

"I, too, went out for my own entertainment," she said, "and why should I think of you, mother, when you were not with me?"

But it was very different with the Moon who was not greedy and selfish as her two sisters, the Sun and the Wind, were. She turned her pale sweet face toward her mother, the Star, and held out her slender hands.

"See, mother," cried the Moon, "I have brought you part of everything that was on my plate. I ate only half of the feast for I wanted to share it with you."

So the mother brought a gold plate and the food that her unselfish daughter, the Moon, had brought her heaped the plate high. She ate it, and then she turned to her three children, for she had something important to say to them. She spoke first to the Sun.

"You were thoughtless and selfish, my daughter," she said. "You went out and enjoyed yourself with no thought of one who was left alone at home. Hereafter you shall be no longer beloved among men. Your rays shall be so hot and burning that they shall scorch everything they touch. Men shall cover their heads when you appear, and they shall run away from you."

And that is why, to this day, the Sun is hot and blazing.

Next the mother spoke to the Wind.

"You, too, my daughter, have been unkind and greedy," she said. "You, also, enjoyed yourself with no thought of any one else. You shall blow in the parching heat of your sister, the Sun, and wither and blast all that you touch. No one shall love you any longer, but all men will dislike and avoid you."

And that is why, to this day, the Wind, blowing in hot weather, is so unpleasant.

But, last, the mother spoke to her kind daughter, the Moon.

"You remembered your mother, and were unselfish," she said. "To those who are thoughtful of their mother, great blessings come. For all time your light shall be cool, and calm, and beautiful. You shall wane, but you shall wax again. You shall make the dark night bright, and all men shall call you blessed."

And that is why, to this day, the Moon is so cool, and bright, and beautiful.

Being a mother is the hardest job in the world.  Our children don't come with instructions.  There are no degrees in parenting.  Yet---we all need help with this important job.  Many of us have received expert help from our own mothers, grandmothers, stepmothers, aunties, and sisters.  Never be afraid to reach out when you need help.  Someone, somewhere will have a way to guide you.  Thank you to all the mothers before me who helped pave my own path-----my own mother who taught me a sense of humor, my Aunt Lil who taught me about family gatherings, my friends Marsha, Darlene, Debbie, Doris,  and Anita---who told the truth about their struggles. I am especially grateful to my grandmother Mary, who spoke so lovingly to each one of her grandchildren.  She taught me the power of the spoken word.  Thanks to my babies who have now become mothers.  May your path of motherhood always be lit by the moon.

There is an enlarged cartoon hanging up in our main office at the high school.  It is a picture of St. Peter at the Pearly Gates.  A potential resident in Heaven is approaching him. “Just one moment,” says St. Peter.  ” I need to check your Facebook account before I let you in.”
We have become very good at teaching our students about Internet safety and how not to post embarrassing pictures of ourselves on social media. What we need to do now is model for our students how to leave a digital footprint that is positive and impressive.

“One of the reasons social media has grown so fast is that it taps into what we, as human beings, naturally love and need and want to do—create, share, connect, relate” ( Jamie Notter & Maddie Grant).

We need to show our students how to create messages that persuade, entertain, and influence our audience.  Our messages must be written with intention, including an awareness of an audience we can only imagine. Facebook, WordPress, BlogSpot, Twitter, Tumblr, Instagram, Snapchat have all had a profound effect on our schools, our families, and our cultures.  Let’s model how to drive these vehicles so that our travels are accomplished with an appropriate seat belt instead of proceeding with reckless abandon.

“Social media is changing the way we communicate and the way we are perceived, both positively and negatively. Every time you post a photo, or update your status, you are contributing to your own digital footprint and personal brand”( Amy Jo Martin).  Social media is not going away.
When I started my blog I had zero followers and I wasn’t following anyone.  That is how everyone starts out.  The important thing was my message.

Perhaps it is because I know we are our stories that I want people to share—to tell their stories and know that these stories are important for everyone. I think this quote sums it up…

“Someone needs to tell those tales. When the battles are fought and won and lost, when the pirates find their treasures and the dragons eat their foes for breakfast with a nice cup of Lapsang souchong, someone needs to tell their bits of overlapping narrative. There’s magic in that. It’s in the listener, and for each and every ear it will be different, and it will affect them in ways they can never predict. From the mundane to the profound. You may tell a tale that takes up residence in someone’s soul, becomes their blood and self and purpose. That tale will move them and drive them and who knows what they might do because of it, because of your words. That is your role, your gift. Your sister may be able to see the future, but you yourself can shape it, boy. Do not forget that… there are many kinds of magic, after all.”
― Erin Morgenstern, The Night Circus   

Pivotal Events

According to Merriam Webster a pivot is  “a person, thing, or factor having a major or central role, function, or effect.”  Recently I listened  once again to the Stanford commencement address given by Steve Jobs.  He tells three stories, each one a pivotal event.  I thought about what was a pivotal event  that changed me.  One of those moments was when I became a reader.

 

  When did I begin to read?  My earliest memory of reading was at the Brooklyn Public Library.  It was a modest brick building that was arranged like a split  level.  The downstairs housed

all of the adult material, the upstairs was the children’s book section, and the central level held the librarian’s desk, periodicals  and newspapers.

 

 

 

On Saturday mornings, my mother washed and waxed the floors in our apartment.   She systematically removed the table and chairs from the kitchen, and she would shoo me out  the door with my older  sister,  “Go and play and don’t come back until the floors are dry.”   We left the house and my sister was terribly annoyed that she was stuck with me for the morning. I had no idea how long it takes for floors to be washed or waxed and was happy to go with my sister.  My sister knew how to navigate the neighborhood.  She liked adventures.  She announced we were going to the library.  I was in second grade and she was in fifth.

 

The library was ten blocks away from our house, which was a long walk for me. I remember that it was hot and that my sister promised me that the library was air conditioned. The cracks in the sidewalk were filled with black tar and if I shuffled my feet a bit I could get the tar to stick to the bottom of my Keds and drag it along.  “Oh mom is going to love that on her clean floor,” my sister blew in disgust.

 

When we arrived at the library my sister stationed me upstairs at a table .  “Don’t’ move,” she ordered, “I’ll be back in a little while.”  She dashed downstairs to the adult section.  By  fifth grade she had read mot of the books in the children’s section and was granted special permission to take out books from the adult section.  The air conditioning was unbelievable.  It was even better than she promised.  I made myself comfortable and began to read my favorite story, The Cat in the Hat by Dr. Seuss.  I never tired of that book.  After some time, my sister found me and gasped.  “Oh my goodness,”  she exclaimed.  “You are still reading Dr. Seuss books.  You are going to grow up to be an idiot.”

 

She sprinted to the shelves and returned with three books:  Charlotte’s Web, a picture book of Indonesia, and An American Anthology of Poetry.  “You will finish these by next week and from now on I will pick out the books for you to read,” she commanded.  I never complained.  I was a little scared of her.   I remember sitting in my father’s great upholstered blue club chair and reading Charlotte’s Web.  Until that moment I did not know that a book could make you cry.  The day I finished that book I became a reader.

My sister was as good as her word.  Each week she picked out a selection of three books that I was to finish by Friday.  Sometimes she would ask me questions about the books.  I did not know what genre was or fluency or what level I was supposed to be on.  Sometimes the books were very hard.  Most of the time, I loved them.   Perhaps that is why I became a reading teacher —so that I could help people discover the treasure of books.

My sister still sends me book titles that she thinks I should read.  Now I know how lucky I am.

Are Report Cards Making the Grade?

This week I visited my grandchildren in Massachusetts.  My kindergarten granddaughter proudly showed me her wiggly tooth and then asked if I wanted to see her report card.  I wondered what this could say.
It was a simple report card that showed how she was faring in reading and number concepts.  There were a few areas that indicated if she was doing well or needed support and then there was a beautiful narrative that really told me what I wanted to know.
The summary was addressed to her, and although, this was logical, so few report cards are addressed to their students.   From reading the comments, I knew her teacher truly knew her.  She spoke about her artwork and how it calmed her and allowed her to relax.  She described her social skills and love of stories.
I thought of the elementary report cards that I worked on with some dedicated teachers.  I am not sure they achieved what we set out to do: tell our students and their parents  how they were doing in school in clear and simple language. Thomas Jefferson wrote that "there is nothing more unequal than the equal treatment of unequal people."  Every student in our classrooms succeeds or fails for a multitude of reasons.  Sometimes, students aren't interested in the topic , sometimes they have a broad background in the topic, sometimes they haven't had breakfast or lunch or dinner the night before. But however they are doing, we as educators need to help them understand their progress with accuracy and gentleness.  Our students are as resilient as young twigs and as fragile as glass.  They remind me of eggs.  An egg  in its shell can withstand tremendous pressure, but if you don't hold it just right it will shatter into a yolky mess.
Our report cards are an academic reckoning.  We must remember they hold us accountable just as much as our students.  We must deliver them with honesty, not jargon, with much attention to the affective side of the child.  Although many teachers hate the arduous task of the narrative, I think it is the best way to deliver a message.

One of my favorite authors is Patricia Polacco.  In one of her books a grandfather gives his granddaughter a book and pours a bit of honey on it.  The honey is to remind her of the sweetness of learning.  Perhaps if we can wrap our words with a bit of honey, our messages will be heard more clearly.  I am so glad my granddaughter's teacher took the time to write so lovingly of her progress.  I will treasure that report card.

Why are teens hurting themselves?

An estimated 13% to 26% of high school students engage in non-suicidal self -injury, according to the latest info from the Albert Einstein College of Medicine in New York. Cutting is the most common method, but teens also burn themselves and pull out their hair. I have seen this on the rise in my middle school.

 

Students harm themselves mainly to regulate emotions, particularly anger, fear, and loneliness.  The physical pain temporarily distracts the student from emotional distress. Teens who injure themselves may be dealing with feelings that they cannot cope with, or hard situations they think cannot change. They may feel desperate for relief from these feelings. These teens sometimes have other mental health problems that add to their emotional pain.

Someone who cuts uses a sharp object to make marks, cuts, or scratches on the body on purpose — enough to break the skin and cause bleeding. People typically cut themselves on their wrists, forearms, thighs, or belly. They might use a razorblade, knife, scissors, a metal tab from a soda can, the end of a paper clip, a nail file, or a pen. Some people burn their skin with the end of a cigarette or lighted match.

According to the New York Department of Health,  self-inflicted injuries are the fifth leading cause of injury-related hospitalizations for children ages 10 to14 years. Self-inflicted injuries, such as cutting, burning, and pinching, are the second leading cause of hospitalizations due to injury for children ages 15 to 19 years. Each year in NYS, over 240 children ages 10 to14 years and over 1,250 children ages 15 to 19 years are hospitalized for self-inflicted injuries. More than 2,300 children ages 15 to 19 years are seen in hospital emergency departments each year for these types of injuries. Self- inflicted injuries most often occur on the arms, legs and front of the body because they are easier to reach and hide under clothing. However, the injuries could affect any part of the body.

 

A sense of shame and secrecy often goes along with cutting. Most teens who cut hide the marks and if they're noticed, make up excuses about them. Some teens don't try to hide cuts and might even call attention to them.

Cutting often begins as an impulse. But many teens discover that once they start to cut, they do it more and more, and can have trouble stopping. Many teens who self-injure report that cutting provides a sense of relief from deep painful emotions. Because of this, cutting is a behavior that tends to reinforce itself.

Some schools have put programs in place to help students learn how to regulate their emotions.  Dialectical Behavior Therapy or DBT is the leading treatment for self-injury.  Lessons include work on Mindfulness, the intentional, non-judgmental focus of one's attention on the emotions, thoughts and sensations occurring at the present moment.,  The therapy also teaches students alternative actions to take when they feel an urge to hurt themselves. 
Mental health issues must be stripped of the elements of shame that cloud attention and treatment.  Our kids need help.  If you know a student who is self-injuring call the Self-injury Resource Line (1-800-DONTCUT).  We can help.

Some of the material for this post was gathered from the District Administration Journal October 2015, (p.21).

 

 

Sometimes Questions are More Important Than Answers

Each year,  I spend some time setting goals.  One of my goals this year is learning how to ask better questions.  Asking great questions leads to much more thinking than almost anything else.  The September 2015 Educational Leadership journal has devoted the entire issue to Questioning for Learning.  Much of the work mentioned in this post comes from articles by Marge Scherer and Grant Wiggins.

Leonard Mlodinow is a famous physicist.  In his book The Upright Thinkers he recounts a conversation he had with his father who was a Holocaust survivor. While in the Buchenwald concentration camp, a fellow innate showed him a math puzzle.  Intrigued, his father, who had only a 7th grade education himself, tried to solve the puzzle, but could not.  When he asked for the explanation, the mathematician offered a deal ---the solution for a crust of bread.  "my father's need to know was so powerful, he parted with his bread in exchange for the answer," Mlodinow writes (p.3).

Humans have the unique propensity to think and question.  How can educators learn how to encourage students to ask their own questions, and explore answers?  Innovators ask questions.  According to Warren Berger in his book A More Beautiful Question, the question, "What if we put wheels on it?" led to the rolling suitcase.  "What if Morse code could be adapted graphically?" led to the creation of the bar code.  "Why did my candy bar melt?" led to the invention of the microwave oven.  Here are some tips to help ask better questions.

1. Ask questions that may be answered many ways. Good questions are divergent.  They are sometimes unanswerable or have multiple possibilities.

2. Ask questions that invite argument and debate. Arguments involve unsettled issues of understanding or application.

3. Will the  pursuit in answer of the question lead to a Big Idea? A good question will take you to the core issues and insights of a topic. A good question has to be more than just intriguing.

4. Ask questions that can be used across disciplines. For example, after reading Arnold Lobel's Frog and Toad series, a question may be asked: How do Frog and Toad act like friends?  A better version of this question would be this---Who is a true friend?  This version connects to varied texts and to personal experience.

5. Does the question get at what's odd, counterintuitive, or easily misunderstood?  A common question teachers ask is What the difference between fiction and nonfiction?  A better version of this would be ----When is fiction revealing, and when is it a lie?

6. Am I trying too hard to craft the perfect question?  Asking a good question takes practice.  Use brainstorming techniques and draft webs of related questions.

7. Am I looking for questions in all the wrong places?  To aim for understanding is to aim for three kinds of learning:  acquisition, meaning making, and transfer.  What problems will prompt learners to inquiry?  So instead of asking students to compare and contrast mean, median, and mode ask,  "What's the fairest ways to calculate grades?"

High level questions yield a high level of student inquiry.  As Claude Levi-Strauss once said, "The wise man doesn't give the right answers, he poses the right questions.