Approaches to Teaching Through Short Stories

Theoretical and Instructional Approaches to the Short Story

Blair Pruden

Context

Of the four genres often taught at the secondary level—short stories, novels, poetry, and drama (Shakespeare)—short stories are perhaps the most accessible to students, in that they do not require the same degree of decoding as poetry, for example, or Shakespeare, and are not overly long, but this is not to say that they lack for learning opportunities.  It can be argued that the genre’s structural and stylistic features offer learning opportunities in a wide range of skills, both in the cognitive and affective domains.  As most English teachers can expect, at some point, to teach the short story in the language arts classroom, it is valuable for English teachers to consider the approach they will take in teaching the genre, with respect to both the desired learning outcome and the needs of the students.  The method adopted for this inquiry involves researching academic publications on the topic of pedagogical approaches to the short story, identifying critical theories that inform teaching practice and exploring accounts of the genre’s successful use in teaching a range of skills.

Definitions the short story

Before the short story can be discussed as a genre, however, it is useful first to define it.  Historically, short stories have been defined by quantitative descriptors, such as word length, and such practices continue to inform theory today, even as theorists are actively exploring the true origins of the genre.  Kallan describes the short story in structural terms as “a category of brief fiction, ranging in length from 55 words to 1,750 words …”(82), and also, quoting Jerome Stern, in epistemological terms,  as “’an ancient and honorable form, deeply rooted in the human psyche and in the history of human communities’” (82).  From an alternative perspective, Kallan supports Steve Moss’s contention that regardless of length, all stories must have formal properties, namely “character /s, setting, conflict, and resolution” (82).  While all of these definitions touch on important considerations of the short story, they are open to criticism as far as constituting defining characteristics.  The property of resolution, for example, can arguably be viewed as a construct of the reader rather than existing as an intrinsic feature of the text.  Furthermore, these definitions do not capture the artistic possibilities that exist as a result of these properties.  In contrast, Ailsa Cox prefers descriptions of the short story that emphasize its potential; she cites A.L Kennedy’s notion that “The short story is…‘small in a way that a bullet is small ’” (1), and Ra Page’s idea that “it is ‘a laboratory where just about all the structures, forms and tricks available to writers […] can meet.’” (1)

Perhaps most tellingly, many definitions or descriptions of the short story genre include most emphatically that it is not a reduced or contracted version of a longer narrative, such as a novel.  In fact, Greg Hollingshed goes so far as to claim that “A short story is far less like a novel than it is like a poem.” (878)  In his view, the feature that most distinguishes the short story from other narrative forms is that, unlike longer forms such as the novel, which “spins off a good deal of its energy looking not only backward and forward in the text but also sideways, outside the text, toward the material world, to that set of common assumptions considered ordinary life” (878), the short story “exists in present time, it is a point of perfect, drunken poise between past and future, and every word of the text, every nuance of rhythm, every piece of shading and point of light, has been brought to bear upon it” (878).  Clearly, the short story has great pedagogical potential, as “Questions of style, imagery, structure and narrative strategy can be addressed through a single text” (Cox  1), and, due to the length of the texts, these literary features can be taught and examined rather efficiently.  Teachers are able to cover entire texts in class (as opposed to assigning readings), which makes apparent for teachers the students’ level of engagement with the text and its themes, as well as the cognitive strategies that students utilize to make meaning from textual features.  Perhaps for this reason, Cox points to the common use of the short story in introductory modules to units of longer narrative forms, but one could argue that this tendency has the potential to obscure the range of benefits to be derived from attending to the short story as a unique narrative form with unique pedagogical potential.

Critical and Instructional Theories

For the language arts teacher, it is also important to consider the critical theory or theories that inform their individual teaching practice. That is not to imply that critical theories are( necessarily) taught explicitly in the classroom, but Richard Beach points to studies that show how “teachers own theories of reading influence their teaching” (4), and goes on to suggest that “teachers may find it useful to make explicit the response theories underlying how they themselves respond to texts.” ( 4) In turn, it has been shown that the way a short story is presented has a great impact on what students take away from the lesson.  Lauren Liang’s “study suggests that teaching literature with a particular approach does affect students’ comprehension and response to text, and thus, teachers should match their teaching approach with the outcome desired”(1).

What, then, are these critical theories that seem to hold so much power over us?  There is no definitive answer to that question, of course, as theorists have divided themselves into multiple schools of thought and there is no consensus, it seems, on how to frame their relationship to each other.  Nevertheless, some useful distinctions have been made that may help teachers to better understand their own response theories.  Beach juxtaposes two approaches that may be relevant to this inquiry; “a New Critical ‘exclusive concern with the text’” (1), and the reader-response approaches that “assume that the text cannot be understood or analyzed as an isolated entity” (1), and assert that meaning is constructed through the transaction between the reader and text, which occurs in and is influenced by a specific context.   Far from being a unified position, “‘reader-response critics’ embrace an extremely wide range of attitudes toward, and assumptions about, the roles of the reader, the text, and the social/cultural context shaping the transaction between reader and text” (Beach 1-2).  Furthermore, “the difference between a ‘text-centred’ and a ‘reader-based’ theory of reading is more of a continuum than an either/or distinction” (5).

It is not the duty of classroom teachers, of course, to establish how and where meaning originates in a text, but rather to discover how our own answer to that question affects our teaching.   Beach suggests a link between a teacher’s reported, text-centred approach and that teacher’s treating a text as “a puzzle or problem to be solved by unpacking the ‘levels’ or ‘layers’”(Beach 4), demonstrating a preoccupation with cognitive and literary strategies.  In contrast, the transactional, or reader-based model, may give more value to students’ responses to texts, prizing a students’ ability to make connections between the text and their own lives (5), adopting alternative perspectives and developing social awareness, thereby promoting affective growth.

Liang divides instruction strategies into two categories—reader-response and cognitive-oriented—that are extremely similar to Beach’s critical approaches.  According to Liang, characteristics of reader-response approach include “Open-ended questioning, writing in response or dialogue journals, dramatizing, illustrating, and imaging” (3), prizing student responses to the text, while cognitive-oriented approaches tend to favor “teaching students how to employ their cognitive processes to be more active and successful readers” (3).  While the cognitive-oriented approach is similar to the New Critical, in that both prize the information to be gained from the text itself, Liang’s framework positions reading as “an active, constructive process and the reader as an active participant who plays an important interpretive function in the reading process” (3), highlighting the role of the reader’s cognitive strategies in the construction of meaning.  For the purposes of this inquiry, Liang’s framework provides a useful platform for classroom teachers to explore the range of learning outcomes that can be reached through the teaching of the short story.  Educators have proposed, experimented with, and published accounts on the different skills and subject areas that can be taught effectively through the short story, which can be viewed as pertaining to either a cognitive-oriented or reader-response approach, or—perhaps more likely—a combination of both.  In this case, categorizing strategies should not entail biasing one approach over another, but rather serve as a means to align the teaching approach adopted with the desired learning outcome.  Indeed, the prescribed learning outcomes of the BC Ministry of Education demonstrate a concern for skills pertaining to both cognitive and affective domains.  Some of the subject areas that are privileged by a cognitive-oriented approach to the short story include writing skills and language acquisition, while subjects associated with a reader-response approach include social and emotional learning and historical awareness.

Teaching Through the Short Story

Richard Kallan proposes that the sub-genre of the 55 word short story is a useful means of addressing journalistic writing skills.  While his contention is that writing these narratives is useful for pre-service journalists, it seems reasonable that the cognitive benefits of this exercise are equally available in the secondary classroom.  The idea driving this strategy is that the constraints governing the production of this form inherently develop the writing skills of the participants—particularly, regarding the ways in which information is organized and expressed—which can arguably be categorized within the cognitive domain.  It can also be argued, however, that these constraints have a liberating effect on the creativity of students, and may foster skills from other domains as a result of collaboration and peer-review.  Kallan’s description of the properties of the form, however, indicate that it lends itself specifically to the cognitive domain, in that its core constraints involve how information must be organized and meaning creating within scenes, sentences, phrases, and even words.  On the level of the entire story, this involves “developing the central theme or angle of the story and then ordering one’s narrative and supporting evidence to create a cohesive, sensibly-organized message wherein the reader has little difficulty distinguishing the story’s main points from its secondary and tertiary details” (Kallan 83).  The 55-word short story favors certain other stylistic features, such as “active verbs…simple-worded, short sentences…and rhythmic grace” (83), all of which require students to manipulate grammar structures and experiment with the various uses of language within sentences and phrases, without the encumbrance of dense, inaccessible meta-language.  At the level of word choice, the size constraints favor “concise, minimally-modified language” (84), such as descriptive verbs (e.g. pant) rather than verb phrases that contain a modifier (e.g. breathe heavily).  Another stylistic feature that generates from constraints is heavy reliance on “reader-inferred detailing” (84), or presenting information in such a way that multiple inferences can be made by the reader from minimal amounts textual evidence, often drawing on students prior knowledge and assumptions on how the world works.  A suitable image for this phenomenon might be a two dimensional form that, viewed from the side, appears as a minimalistic line, but which casts a rich and complex shadow of meaning when examined in certain light (or when appropriate cognitive strategies are brought to bear on the text).  Kallan’s proposal illustrates one of several ways in which the short story lends itself to cognitive-oriented outcomes.

Additional language acquisition is another broad learning outcome that can be addressed through the short story, and which also requires that special attention be paid to the development of skills from the cognitive domain.  This process, far from being limited to recall or memorization, involves constant analysis, synthesis and application of information on many levels, and thus, the challenge exists to keep students engaged in the high-demand learning environment.  According to Bhuvaneswari, language acquisition “is done best when the learners are involved actively in the learning process. Involvement comes only if sufficient interest is aroused and sustained in the classroom.” (136)   Bhuvaneswari goes on to claim that the short story is especially suited to hold students’ attention and promote active engagement with the language as students become “bound emotionally to the text and the amount of distraction is minimal.”(137)   Furthermore, the learning of language in specific genre and cultural contexts, as through narrative, is beneficial for the acquisition of new structures; “A student can learn and use words effectively in different contexts through literary texts.” (137)  In this model, new words are not only linked conceptually with appropriate contexts, but rather, those contexts can be presented as tools for students to construct the meanings of words for themselves.  For example, instead of giving students a list of pre-reading vocabulary (which may also be valid in some cases) and then anchoring those new words through a text—as is often the case in many instructional language workbooks—selected words/structures can be presented to EL learners without their definitions, and students required to use contextual and linguistic cues to construct the meaning.  These critical thinking skills contribute to the basis for independent learning, and may serve as a predictor of future success; “Students also become more prolific and exploratory (critical evaluation) when they begin to identify the copiousness of the language…” (137).

The short story genre also has great potential for developing skills from the affective domain, particularly in conjunction with a reader-response approach that prizes the role of student knowledge and experience, and seeks to provide opportunities for students to make connections between textual themes and the beliefs they hold and practice in their own lives.  For this reason, short stories can serve as excellent opportunities to test their beliefs from a variety of circumstances they may (and probably will not) have encountered in real life.  One example of this concept at work is the use of short stories to teach history.  Rodney White asserts that narrative fiction, especially the short story, lends itself to the study of history, as it enables the teacher to explore “the depth” (305) in history, as opposed to “The emphasis of textbooks on breadth” (305)  Furthermore, he claims that people are conditioned to learn from narrative genres from a young age, and that the dramatic tension that sparks interest in students also encourages them to relate to the struggles and circumstances being presented and to relate them their own reality; “As the events of a story unfold, students experience the drama and excitement of the tale and are able to see that many issues, dilemmas, and struggles of an earlier time still confront us today.” (305)  In light of Liang’s framework, these learning outcomes appear to be best served by a reader-response approach that relies on student-led responses to the text and prioritizes the linking of textual themes to student experience.

Other affective student competencies may be addressed through a reader-response approach to the short story, such as social and emotional learning (SEL), which Jennings and Greenberg define as “the process of acquiring the skills to recognize and manage emotions, develop care and concern for others, make responsible decisions, establish positive relationships, and handle challenging situations effectively” (504).  This may be especially relevant for students who are at higher risk for maladaptive strategies, due to their living circumstances, which may include private topics such as parental abuse, substance abuse, or dysfunctional family relationships that students may have difficulty discussing explicitly, as discussed by Rose Somerville in her 1966 article on the use of short stories to provide family insight.  Through this approach, discussion of relevant themes can be explored using student reactions to the text as an entry point to further exploration; “The story is a specific instance; through it the student can be led toward broader generalizations and abstract formulations.” (Somerville 225)  This facilitates a more constructivist approach to knowledge, wherein learners “formulate knowledge by actively constructing that knowledge within specific social contexts or discourse communities” (Beach 163), as opposed to having social and emotional strategies taught didactically by the teacher.

Implications for the Language Arts Classroom

The findings of this inquiry indicate that a teacher’s instructional approach when teaching the short story genre is of pivotal importance to what the students take away from the lessons, and therefore, the degree to which those lessons are effective in bringing about their desired learning outcomes.  As I reflect on my own reading style, I realize that it does, after years of academic study, lean towards the New Critical approach, as I do tend to tend to look to the stylistic features of a text to construct meaning more than I do relate the themes of the text to my own experience.  It is possible, therefore, that I may have a tendency to emphasize cognitive skills (such as those used in close reading) over affective skills, such as interpreting the relevance of a text to a current real-life situations.  As a result of this inquiry, I intend to balance my approach by including lesson units that address both domains (though not necessarily simultaneously).

Liang proposes three key elements for consideration at the planning stage that aim to align the nature of a lesson with its intended outcome; “the characteristics of the text, the purpose(s) for reading that text, and the strengths and needs of the students in relation to the text and the purpose(s).” (3)  As a result of having conducted this inquiry, the first stage in my own planning process when teaching the short story will begin to make a decision on which texts best address specific prescribed learning outcomes (PLOs), and which domain those PLOs most pertain to.  At the secondary level, PLOs include skills and competencies from both the cognitive domain and the affective domain; “Prescribed Learning Outcomes in BC curricula identify required learning in relation to one or more of the three domains of learning: cognitive, psychomotor, and affective.” (BC Ministry of Education)  Examples from the cognitive domain include “select, adapt, and apply a range of strategies to construct, monitor, and confirm meaning, including comparing and refining predictions, questions, images, and connections… making inferences and drawing conclusions…summarizing and paraphrasing…using text features… determining the meaning of unknown words and phrases… clarifying meaning” (B6).  Examples from the affective domain include “explore experiences, ideas, and information… gain insight into others’ perspectives” (A1), “acknowledging and discussing diverse points of view” (A4), and “relating reactions and emotions to understanding of the text” (A8).  Learning outcomes such as these, in conjunction with the teachers’ understanding of the students and their needs, can and should be used to inform both which text(s) to include in a lesson, and which instructional approach is most conducive to guiding students towards that outcome.

For example, in addressing the PLO “determining the meaning of unknown words and phrases” (B6), a teacher might provide a pre-reading worksheet with advanced vocabulary or jargon from the text, accompanied by the words’ location in the text, rather than the definition.  Students could work in groups to hypothesize the meaning of the words from contextual clues.  In contrast, if a teacher wanted to address the PLO “acknowledging and discussing diverse points of view” (A4), a more appropriate pre-reading activity—that is, an activity that is more in line with the desired learning outcome—might involve a prompt related to the text’s theme, intended to spark discussion and encourage students to make connections with their own lives, such as a hypothetical “what would you do” question.  Presented in this light, the text’s themes are more likely to resonate with students on a deeper level, and may lead to more productive discussion in a post-reading activity.  These are but two examples, intended to illustrate the degree to which the instructional approach towards a short story can and should be adapted to address a range of desired learning outcomes, considering the diverse needs of the classroom.

 

Works Cited

BC. Ministry of Education. English Language Arts Grade 11: Integrated Resource Package. 2007: Retrieved from: http://www.bced.gov.bc.ca/irp/pdfs/english_language_arts/2007ela_812_11.pdf

 

Beach, Richard. A Teacher’s Introduction to Reader-Response Theories. NCTE Teacher’s Introduction Series. National Council of Teachers of English, 1111 W. Kenyon Road, Urbana, IL 61801-1096 (Stock No. 50187-0015, $9.95 members; $12.95 non-members)., 1993.

 

Bhuvaneswari, V., and Rosamma Jacob. “Language Acquisition Through Short Stories for Second Language Learners.” Studies in Literature and Language 3.3 (2011): 136-138.

 

Cox, Ailsa.  Teaching the Short Story.  New York : Palgrave Macmillan, 2011.

 

Hollingshead, Greg. “Short Story vs Novel.” University of Toronto Quarterly 68 (1999): 878-879.

 

Jennings, Patricia A., and Mark T. Greenberg. “The prosocial classroom: Teacher social and emotional competence in relation to student and classroom outcomes.” Review of Educational Research 79.1 (2009): 491-525.

 

Kallan, Richard A. “Teaching Journalistic Cogency with 55-Word Short Stories.”Journalism and Mass Communication Educator 55.3 (2000): 81-88.

 

Liang, Lauren Aimonette. “Scaffolding Middle School Students’ Comprehension and Response to Short Stories.” RMLE Online 34.8 (2011).

 

Somerville, Rose M. “The Short Story and Family Insights in Secondary Schools.” Journal of Marriage and Family 28.2 (1966): 223-230.

 

White, Rodney M. “Teaching history using the short story.” The Clearing House66.5 (1993): 305-306.

 

Bibliography

Abrams, M. H. A glossary of literary terms. New York: Rinehart, 1970

 

BC. Ministry of Education. English Language Arts Grade 11: Integrated Resource Package. 2007: Retrieved from: http://www.bced.gov.bc.ca/irp/pdfs/english_language_arts/2007ela_812_11.pdf

 

Beach, Richard. A Teacher’s Introduction to Reader-Response Theories. NCTE Teacher’s Introduction Series. National Council of Teachers of English, 1111 W. Kenyon Road, Urbana, IL 61801-1096 (Stock No. 50187-0015, $9.95 members; $12.95 non-members)., 1993.

 

Bhuvaneswari, V., and Rosamma Jacob. “Language Acquisition Through Short Stories for Second Language Learners.” Studies in Literature and Language 3.3 (2011): 136-138.

 

Brier, David J., and Vickery Kaye Lebbin. “Teaching information literacy using the short story.” Reference services review 32.4 (2004): 383-387.

 

Cox, Ailsa.  Teaching the Short Story.  New York : Palgrave Macmillan, 2011.

 

Hoecherl‐Alden, Gisela. “Connecting Language to Content: Second Language Literature Instruction at the Interrnediate Level.” Foreign Language Annals 39.2 (2008): 244-254.

 

Hollingshead, Greg. “Short Story vs Novel.” University of Toronto Quarterly 68 (1999): 878-879.

 

Jennings, Patricia A., and Mark T. Greenberg. “The prosocial classroom: Teacher social and emotional competence in relation to student and classroom outcomes.” Review of Educational Research 79.1 (2009): 491-525.

 

Kallan, Richard A. “Teaching Journalistic Cogency with 55-Word Short Stories.”Journalism and Mass Communication Educator 55.3 (2000): 81-88.

KIRKGÖZ, Yasemin. “INCORPORATING SHORT STORIES IN ENGLISH LANGUAGE CLASSES.” Novitas-ROYAL (Research on Youth and Language)6.2 (2012): 110-125.

 

Kispal, Anne. Effective teaching of inference skills for reading. Research Report DCSF-RR031). Cheshire, UK: National Foundation for Educational Research, Department of Education (Division of Children, School and Families), 2008.

 

Kennedy, A. L. ‘Small in a Way That a Bullet Is Small’, in The Short Story, ed. Ailsa

Cox. Newcastle: Cambridge Scholars, 2009. 1–9.

 

Liang, Lauren Aimonette. “Scaffolding Middle School Students’ Comprehension and Response to Short Stories.” RMLE Online 34.8 (2011).

 

Mitchell, Diana. “Using Short Story Collections to Enrich the English Classroom.” The English Journal 86.8 (1997): 73-77.

 

Moffit, Gisela. “Oya? O, ja! Reading jugendliteratur in the German classroom.” Die Unterrichtspraxis/Teaching German (1998): 116-124.

 

Moss S. The world’s shortest stories. Philadelphia: Running Press Book Publishers,

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Responses

This is a very well written and well researched contribution. Thank you for going beyond the minimum. The written summary of your presentation is very well organized, and I believe you’ve attended admirably to feedback provided by your peers and myself along the way.

I agree with your premise that short stories are more accessible in part because they are generally restricted in length and scope. Your review of definitions is very helpful and engaging. You note that short stories “do not require the same degree of decoding as poetry . . . or Shakespeare.” You may wish to temper this phrase somewhat — perhaps to something like the following: “they *may* not require the same degree of decoding . . . ” There is always the case of the complex narrative and the straight forward poem. In my experience, for example, students have far more difficulty with Borges’s short story, “The Circular Ruins,” for example, than Earle Birney’s narrative poem, “David.” The degree to which one genre is more approachable than another is a matter of writing style, level of vocabulary, etc, and this is never consistent across genres. As Carl Leggo would argue, the notion that poetry is less approachable than other genres could (and should) be challenged. I suppose the feeling that poetry is difficult may be a hangover from the origin of the subject discipline, when the focus in the study of poetry was versification, and the canonical texts for discussion tended to be drawn from particular periods and poetic genres that contemporary students may have found more challenging.

You observe that Liang characterizes the “reader-response approach” as “‘Open-ended questioning, writing in response or dialogue journals, dramatizing, illustrating, and imaging’ (3), prizing student responses to the text,” while “cognitive-oriented approaches tend to favor ‘teaching students how to employ their cognitive processes to be more active and successful readers’ (3).” As I intimated in our discussions, I think Liang’s approach may be challenged by many scholars. The division between “affective” and “cognitive” domains has been troubled along the way for quite some time. I suppose the prevailing argument against making this divide is that it is never possible to be purely “cognitive” or “affective” in approaching a subject, as learner or teacher. Setting up this divide could be construed as subscription to a dualism somewhat similar to traditional approaches (e.g., Cartesian Dualism, where mind [intellect] prevails as the rational force over the whim of the body, which is traditionally associated with emotion or affect [see, for example, Burton’s _Anatomy of Melancholy_]). I think Beach is the more balanced critic in terms of his articulation of many forms of reader response.

Of course, I make these points merely by way of joining the discussion and working to present different lines of thinking that may influence your own if you have time to read further on the subject. Generally speaking, again, this is an excellent, comprehensive contribution that I enjoyed reading very much. The ideas and activities you propose are highly useful and I wish you success in integrating them in your teaching.

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