Stories will keep us Human

Philippe Ernewein, Director of Education, Denver Academy

Sun come up it was blue and gold Ever since I put your picture in a frame.” –Tom Waits, “Picture in a Frame” from Mule Variations Philippe is a native of Turnhout, Belgium. In 1980, he immigrated to the United States, where he earned a Bachelor of Arts in Modern Languages from Longwood College (1994) and a Master of Arts in Curriculum & Instruction from the University of Colorado (2003). He is an alumnus of Teach For America. Philippe is Board Chair of Celebrate EDU, committed to creating a bright future for young adults with developmental disabilities and diverse learning profiles. He is also a consultant for Words Beyond Bars, a project dedicated to introducing powerful and transformative literature to incarcerated individuals.

He has been in the field of education since 1994. He presents annually at various national and international educational conferences and workshops. Philippe was recently recognized as the Colorado Council for Learning Disabilities Professional of the Year (2017) and the recipient of the prestigious Floyd G. Hudson Service Award by the Council for Learning Disabilities (2017). He is currently the Director of Education at Denver Academy.

Teaching the Text of Our Lives

A good friend and fellow educator, Matt, recently shared a story that pulled my thinking back into the language arts classroom. This often happens, a blessing, maybe a curse. I leave school at the end of the day, but the classroom doesn’t leave me.

Matt had found a letter, typed over twenty years ago, for his 21st birthday. His father, now deceased, wrote about life transitions, his pride in his son and regrets about missed moments due to work travel. Tucked away in a shoebox of college relics, the letter had been forgotten until now. Matt’s wife read it and placed it in a frame.

After reading the letter, it was clear that this message was part of Matt’s fabric. It wasn’t digital. It couldn’t be downloaded or replicated. It was one-of-a-kind. Authentic. Original. Real.

“Ganz’s idea is called the ‘public narrative,’ it begins with the Story of Self. This is the part where you identify what drives you”

These are the very qualities I hope my students associate with their writing.

This moment reminded me of a framework I encountered through Marshall Ganz, a Harvard’s Kennedy School lecturer. Ganz has written extensively on the power of personal story, especially for those doing public work. He argues that people in positions like teaching have a responsibility to share why they do what they do and where they hope to lead.

“Some people say, ‘I don’t want to talk about myself,’” Ganz writes, “but if you don’t interpret to others your calling... other people will interpret it for you” (Ganz, 2009).

Ganz’s idea is called the “public narrative,” it begins with the Story of Self. This is the part where you identify what drives you. Ganz writes:

“You have to claim authorship of your story... so others can understand the values that move you to act. What’s unique about us is not our categories, but our journeys. We all walk around with a text from which to teach: the text of our own lives.”

To begin drafting your Story of Self, Ganz offers these three guiding questions:

What challenge have you faced?

What choices did you make in response?

What were the outcomes?

From there, the public narrative continues with the Story of Us, which looks at what shared experiences and values unite a group and the Story of Now, which looks at the present call to action. In schools, I’ve seen classrooms where these ideas are alive. Classrooms where shared values are acknowledged and celebrated, where the "us" is clear. And in others, where students grasp the urgency of learning, inquiry and purpose fuel the “now.”

But to arrive at the Story of Us and Now, you must begin with Self. This requires reflection. It requires stepping off the educational treadmill to pause, look inward and ask the right questions.

At Denver Academy this summer, our faculty were invited to write their Stories of Self. During our first week back, teachers shared them in small groups. Some brought in photos or objects. The result was something like a sacrament. Bonds deepened. Trust expanded.

The impact didn’t stop there. Many teachers adapted the assignment for their students. During writing conferences, students began crafting their Stories as Learners. They reflected on challenges, choices and outcomes in their educational journeys.

This morning, Jackson, an 11th grader, asked me if being called “lazy, crazy and stupid” in elementary school was a real challenge. I said yes and he elaborated. He wasn’t diagnosed with dyslexia until ninth grade and wanted to write about that.

“If my 4th-grade teacher knew I had dyslexia,” he said, “maybe they would’ve taught me differently.”

He wasn’t bitter. “I wasn’t the easiest kid to have in class,” he added. We discussed advocacy, strategies and even forgiveness. His story wasn’t about summer vacation or a five-paragraph essay on a theme; it was honest and real.

Jackson’s reflection floored me. The Story of Self gave him a framework to articulate something profound. I could never have assigned this topic directly, but Ganz’s questions were a roadmap. Through them, Jackson found clarity and power.

When students craft their own stories, shape, write and reflect, they understand better who they are, not just as learners, but as people.

How do these personal stories connect to our increasingly digital, data-driven world? Put: stories keep us human. They remind us that not everything can be found through the right combination of search terms or the eloquence of a prompt for a bot.

“I love you, baby and I always will Ever since I put your picture in a frame.” –Tom Waits

Works Cited:

Wiggins, Grant and Jay McTighe. Understanding by Design, expanded 2nd ed., ASCD, 2005. Ganz, Marshall. “Why Stories Matter.” Sojourners: Faith in Action for Justice, vol. 38, no. 3, March 2009.