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Full-Text Articles in Creative Writing
The Healing Power Of Creative Storytelling: Utilizing Fiction As A Means Of Therapy In The Writer/Reader Relationship, Alicia Rose Klepper
The Healing Power Of Creative Storytelling: Utilizing Fiction As A Means Of Therapy In The Writer/Reader Relationship, Alicia Rose Klepper
Masters Theses
What if we wrote the challenging portions of our lives as comedies or the boring parts as grand adventures? What if we recast painful experiences into creative stories that allow us to live in proximity to our circumstances and not be overwhelmed? Storytelling is how we bridge our lives with creativity as a way to heal from the past, process the present, and hope for the future. This thesis explores how the tradition of creative storytelling has evolved to enable writers and readers to uncover and connect elements of life that would otherwise be too painful to process. By bridging …
Trending Emotional Disturbance: Strategies Through The Years, Hannah M. Rattin
Trending Emotional Disturbance: Strategies Through The Years, Hannah M. Rattin
Student Scholarship – Education
Teaching strategies and supports provided for students with emotional disturbance have evolved over the years. These changes are observed throughout three descriptive studies focused on specific writing strategies spanning three decades from the 1970s until the 1990s. Multiple changes are observed. For instance, terms other than the current “emotional disturbance” have been used over the years. The approach to schooling children with emotional disturbance has also shifted, from an emphasis on functional goals to focusing on academic progress. Additional changes include a more practical approach to implementing these writing strategies and an increased involvement throughout for these students. These changes …
My Psychologist, My Psychiatrist, Fred G. Leebron
My Psychologist, My Psychiatrist, Fred G. Leebron
English Faculty Publications
I could not distinguish between them except by what we did. I was ten, then eleven. I would not ride the school bus. I always slunk home saying I missed it. I made my mother come to school with me every day, and sit in the lobby so I could wave to her during recess and class changes. In the evenings my father would come home from work, hear my mother's report, and storm upstairs, his weight pounding on the hardwood steps. I would be out of breath with crying, my head in the pillow, waiting to feel what he …