The Narrative Experience: Telling Stories in School
by

Source

The Law Teacher, Volume 1, number 2 (Spring 1994), p. 12.

About the Author

James M. Vaché is a professor of law at Gonzaga University School of Law, P.O. Box 3528, Spokane, WA 99220-3528, (509) 328-4220 (ext. 3727), FAX (509) 484-2810, e-mail jamesv@gulaw.gonzaga.edu.

Do you tell stories in the classroom? I do. My suspicion is that most of us do in one form or another. I am interested in writing about your and others' stories that are currently being told as a part of the instructional setting in law schools.

In order to establish what I am about, it is necessary to digress a bit and talk about several of my experiences with storytelling. (By the way, the digression is one of the main elements of a type of storytelling that I find quite compelling. It has been raised to a high level by a colleague who tells stories about law, and everything else, in the western campfire tradition, with baroque twists and turns that after perhaps hours of digression turn back on themselves to somehow support the main story line.)

My first experience with storytelling goes back to my law school days. My Contracts professor spent (I swear!) the whole year talking about the facts in Hawkins v. McGee, 146 A. 641 (N.H. 1929). You remember that case: the infamous hairy hand, where the doctor was held to his "promise" to make the hand 100% when the result was a hairy palm. Now, this case can be abstracted to stand for an important proposition about the objective theory of contract formation. See John D. Calamari and Joseph M. Perillo, Contracts § 2-6, at 33 n.51 (3d ed. 1987). But it obviously served a much more important purpose in that class, becoming instead a vehicle for discussion of the whole nature of the contracting process. To me, what is important is that I still remember the story of the hairy hand 25 years later, and with but a small effort can reconstruct a good deal of the law of contracts. It only occurred to me a few years ago that my recall of contract law was dependent on the power of the story.

Another experience I had with storytelling (and still continue to have, with variations) is that of listening to students champion adjunct teachers (always practicing lawyers) because they tell such good "war stories" - teaching their subjects by reference to "real events." In my younger days, I rolled my eyes at such encomiums because they seemed to be nothing more than praise for a pedagogy that avoided the hard stuff of "teaching the law." I do not roll my eyes anymore. (At least as much.)

My last experience is again more personal. I teach Administrative Law. For a good part of the time that I have taught, INS v. Chada, 462 U.S. 919 (1983) has been a part of all the casebooks. It is important doctrinally in the separation of powers context, but I have found myself over the years using the compelling facts in Chada first to tell Chada's story and then to retell it at many points during the course. Chada's story serves, in my thinking, as an important reminder of basic human dimensions in administrative law. (If you are interested in the story, see Barbara Hinkson-Craig, Chada: The Story of an Epic Constitutional Struggle (1988).)

So, what is my point? Well, I have more than one. The first is that storytelling, with "thick" elucidation of the facts, may be an important teaching technique that has not been very seriously explored in the setting of the "ordinary classroom" (the phrase is borrowed from Roger Crampton for a purpose). I am aware of the explosion of interest in the use of storytelling (coming out of developing feminist theory) for consciousness-raising and as a way to counter traditional (and arguably masked) ideologically based and illegitimate theory. I find that movement illuminating, and do not issue this call as an attempt either to ignore or to co-opt that use of narrative. (I also recognize that I may entirely misunderstand those storytellers' points of view. I intend to educate myself on that point more thoroughly, but, as the saying goes, that is another story.)

Rather, I am, on my second point, simply interested in your experiences with storytelling, including that perspective but not excluding others. If I can amass enough of those experiences, I want to publish at least a catalog of the stories that are told. Depending on what I get, I may want to make some observations about what, if anything, storytelling adds to the accumulation of knowledge about law, e.g., is storytelling how the values of the ordinary religion are transmitted?

So I am soliciting your stories. I leave it to you to decide if you do storytelling, including what you think storytelling is. Please write by snail mail or e-mail (to the address listed below) with stories, comments, critiques, etc. As my story evolves, I promise to keep you informed about what direction it is taking.