Writing comes from that hush before the conductor drops her baton into the downbeat of the busy march of the day. A small split in time stretches into a soft elastic space where the hours run together. I am a wordbender, carving meaning from a world grown thick with the particular matter of discourse and pulling images through the gossamer walls of consciousness. It is my best magic trick, and thus not quite real.
Education research needs wordbenders. People who can extract meaning from the air grown thick with performativity, numbers, reduction.
There is a fiction in believing one thinker can provide the solution…to education – the discipline of our disappointments. A romance between a single mind and the hopes of masses. A fairy tale. Silk solutions to a monsterous tale. Education is supposed to be the great white knight but fails more often than we would like to save anyone but a few.
The known universe is only 4% of the mass – the rest we react to – the dark matter, the intangible, the undetectable, the slipperiness – like catching smoke. What we think exists is only our reactions. What haven’t we noted? What else is plugged in to what we believe?
Writing education research should not be about putting together a response to a problem…it should aim to inspire 1000 responses. A grand collaboration of small parts tinkering away to apply a reconstruction to a crumbling discipline.
Education needs wordbenders. People who are not limited to calls of logic. People who can write the soul back in. Education is human. It feels. People need to be allowed to feel again.