Happy Anniversary!

...and I nearly missed it.  Just this week I was thinking, "Gee, I think I've been blogging for about a year now.  I should go back and check the date."

I remembered just now, and good thing, too.  It's been exactly a year today since my first post.  I had just submitted my article for peer review to the Teaching Artist Journal and felt I had more to write.  And write I did.  When I started I didn't really know if anyone would read this blog; I haven't had a ton of readers, compared to other blogs, but am so grateful for the folks who have subscribed, followed, checked in, and commented. 

This blog has been a chance for me to illustrate and explain my work integrating percussive dance with elementary math topics, describe my work as a teaching artist more fully, and make connections between math, dance, and other similarly creative pursuits.  It's not really all over the 'map' but I do recognize that this might be categorized as a 'multi-topic' blog. That's fine with me -- I enjoy having multiple interests that intersect in sometimes fascinating ways over time.

This space has also been a way for me to connect with really interesting and smart folks in the mathed world, folks who have been really patient with me as I ask questions, share my ideas and generally expand my understanding of math thinking, topics and practices.  Sue VanHattum at Math Mama Writes, Maria Droujkova of Natural Math, Julie at Living Math, and Bon Crowder at MathFour have all provided wonderful support, forums, and conversations as I explore the world of math education.

It's been a whole year, but I feel like I'm just getting started.

To Each its Own: Targeting My Professional Development Workshops

In the last couple months I've had whole bunches of fun presenting professional development workshops in a variety of settings, to a variety of people.  Let's see...math teachers from all over the U.S., PE teachers from across Indiana, classroom teachers from Indianapolis, fellow Teaching Artists from a variety of disciplines, and arts education administrators from Young Audiences affiliates from around the country. 

Each session bore the title 'Math in Your Feet' and was a combination of big picture information and hands-on experience, but that is where the similarity ended and my job got really interesting!

For the classroom teachers I started by focusing on the challenges of using movement in a classroom setting.  As they started to move and experiment with foot-based percussive patterns they became more comfortable and sure in their own movement.  This approach usually leads to a greater willingness to embrace, sometimes for the first time, the possibility of leading their own students in movement-based learning.  To some extent I am also encouraging them to have fun with math, many for the first time.  I consider the 'doing and making' of percussive dance patterns in this program the same as the 'doing and making' of math so, in every teacher workshop I do, I walk them step by step through the intersection where math and dance meet.  We're so used to focusing on the symbolic, static realm of mathematics that we don't always recognize when we see math happening in front of our eyes.  It helps to have a guide.

For the self-identified math teachers at the NCTM annual meeting I also started with a message of 'anyone can lead movement in the classroom and here are some tools' but then quickly moved toward 'here is an opportunity for your students to represent their math understanding in a new way within the kinesthetic realm'.  I also drew their attention to the fact that the processes of solving a problem in both math and dance (choreography) are often similar -- question, understand what tools it might take to answer the question, experiment with ideas, use your resources, find an answer that seems to work, evaluate and then ask more questions. 

The group of 80 or so PE teachers was a new one for me simply because there was not one bit of trepidation or reluctance to get up and move!  Not all of them were comfortable with the idea of dance, at least initially, but they were definitely game.  I was only with them for about an hour, and I couldn't go very deep, so I stuck with active modeling of the bridge between my particular brand of movement with an academic content area.  If I had had more time with them, I would have focused on the  process for moving the dance to the page -- speaking the words that describe aspects of our movement as we move, writing those words down, turning these words into symbols, and graphing foot positions on a coordinate grid.  I did the point that Math in Your Feet can be a collaboration between classroom and specials teachers, just like it is when I lead my residency.  The concrete movement and math activities can be done in PE or music class which then build the bridge to the formal, written, symbolic realm of math back in the regular classroom.

At their conference the arts education administrators were focusing on how to add the A in arts to STEM topics (STEM to STEAM).  I gave a general overview of the program and laid out my process for building the program and integrating the dance with the math.  The most important issue for me is that when you are thinking about integrating any art form with another content area you really need to be honest with yourself and ask 'is it a good fit?'  If the answer is no then it is not worth forcing the issue.  If you think 'maybe' then do a little more work to explore the connections.  In the end, though, the connections need to be more than skin deep.  Just because we count our beats in this program doesn't mean I consider that a good example of what math and dance have in common.  I also gave a similar account of how I combined math and dance to my fellow Teaching Artists.

My favorite moments while teaching teachers are when they ask me questions that show me they are imagining how they will do this work with their own students.  It's similar to house hunting, I suppose.  The minute you start imagining where you're going to put your furniture the realtor knows you might really be serious!  I love hearing all the different ways engaged and caring education professionals imagine tailoring my ideas for their own particular learning environments. 

What TED-Ed, Math-Ed and Arts-Ed Have in Common

I just presented at the Young Audiences National Conference.  Their theme this year was STEM to STEAM, exploring ways to add the arts to the STEM (science, technology, engineering and math) initiative.  I shared my process for integrating math and percussive dance with executive directors and program staff from Young Audiences affiliates from around the country -- people who work every day to bring teaching artists like me into educational settings.  When I told them that just two weeks prior I had presented a 90-minute, hands-on workshop of the same material to 130+ math teachers from around the country (at the NCTM annual meeting) they CHEERED!

Here's what I know: The math education folks WANT math to make sense to their students.  They WANT their students to understand and apply and maybe even enjoy math, and they are looking for effective tools to make this happen. 

Here's what I know: The arts education folks know without a doubt that the arts are a perfect vehicle in supporting learners in the process of understanding and connection making. 

Liz Lerman, dancer/educator/human extraordinaire who was also at the Young Audiences National Conference, shared the work she's been doing with scientists.  Later in the day she lead a workshop in which she said multiple times:  "There is always a structure we can put in place to help solve a problem."    Today I found a structure that has great potential to bring the teachers, the artists, and the organizations together to realize our common goals toward a real, engaging, fulfilling education for all:

"The TED-Ed Brain Trust is a private online forum created to shape and accelerate TED's push into the realm of Education.  We aim to assemble a new archive of remarkable educational videos designed to catalyze learning around the globe. TED is seeking the expertise of visionary educators, organizations and creative professionals to help guide, galvanize and ultimately lead this exciting new initiative."

Here's the video that introduces this incredible moment in education:



You might also be interested in the conversation the math-ed folks are having right now about what they might contribute to this effort: Making mathematics real: A TED-ED series proposal

Perfect Reasoning: The Right Brain Initiative (Manifesto)

Play

"The artist is accustomed to working in the open spaces of creativity, ambiguity, uncertainty, opinion, and personal story.  Woven into this relationship with the discipline is a sense of play.  Play may be a key to understanding how people learn and how artistry and scientific thinking are linked. [...] The playfulness of artistry can be absorbing, exuberant, intense, and transcendent.  It can provide temporary perfection and sanctuary of mind that is a refuge from the mundane banalities of ordinary existence. Playing often involves rules, but it also includes freedom, imagination, risk unanticipated outcomes, and the possibility for  participants to become deeply immersed in the activity."

From Mark A. Graham's article "How the Teaching Artist Can Change the Dynamics of Teaching and Learning."  Teaching Artist Journal 7.2 (2009): 89.

And Now? A Standards Antidote

Okay, here's my special challenge (and I take comfort in knowing that out there are other people who understand exactly what I am about to say).  I am an artist.  I am a teacher.  I am a teaching artist, curriculum developer, website designer, market research specialist, performer, agent, writer, editor, math student, calf wrangler...I am going insane!  Well, not really, but I do feel like I exist in multiple worlds simultaneously, sometimes to the point where I can completely contradict myself and agree with myself in the same moment!

Today I was all over those Common Core State Standards I wrote about yesterday.  I just spent the better part of the afternoon working with the new language.  I'm not making anything new up, just translating what I do, what I've always done, into the language of the most current stated education goals.  I've also been working on a grant project for the second pilot stage of Young Audiences, Inc. Signature Core Services program, which has meant working with new forms and terminology.

Along parallel lines, I have been spending the better part of my after-the-kid's-in-bed time systematically reading all my back issues of the Teaching Artist Journal (I'm into year five at this point).  I started this particular project in December because I figured that, as a recently appointed Associate Editor for this publication, I should probably have a working knowledge of what kinds of articles, topics, research etc. have been published in the past before I move forward with my new position.

Re-reading TAJ's has actually been really interesting and inspiring, and much less an exercise than my husband thought it might be.  It's been interesting because the process of reading them one after another is bringing me the big picture I never had getting each new TAJ one at a time, three months apart.   I'm learning a lot!  And, it's been inspiring, because I've been running into really great thoughts like this one (below), which balance out all my standards-based wonkyness of late.  So, without further ado, here's my standards antidote for today:

"Although making art does encourage curiosity, critical thinking, and empathy -- necessary tools in today's world -- these very qualities may also demand that one speak truth to power or insist on beauty.  Nourishing imagination may inspire one to declare along with Blake: Everything that lives is holy.  Such a vision might make one less suited for production lines, prison cells, or political speech.

"So how do we, as human beings and as artists, speak honestly about art?  I'm glad that we talk about the connection between art-integration and academic progress, art's value in passing down community wisdom, and the transferable skills that making art develops.  But I hope we also remember to say that making art is a voyage into the unknown and, therefore, not a process inherently practical, polite, predictable, or proper."

From Judith Tannebaum's article"Oh How We Sparkled: One Vision, Two Themes."  Teaching Artist Journal 4.4 (2006): 248-9.

On Being A Teaching Artist

My dad reads this blog; he's been following it from the start.  It's something you'd expect from a dad, I suppose, but my father is also an artist.  He grew up with his parents and two older brothers in the back of little grocery store in Chicago in the 1930's.  This little room, where they all lived, was the subject of some of his first paintings.  In the 1950's he went to the Art Institute of Chicago to focus on oil painting, and later he moved to graphic design when that still meant lots of brown paper, dial-a-type, darkrooms, and wax rollers.  Ah, the toys of my childhood!  Now he's put his away his brushes and instead works with fabric, making quilts that are his paintings. 

He recently e-mailed. "I read your blog," he said "and really don't pretend to understand half of it since I base my art on intuition and instinct, allowing the sub-conscious to take over when faced with a visual problem." 

I love his description of his creative process because it is exactly what art is about!  Giving way and letting the mysterious parts of your brain mull something over until one day, the solution seems to come to you out of the blue.  Art and creativity (no matter the form) are about deep thinking with parts of yourself that have no words, just images, feelings, urges, emotions.  Even some writers, I bet, are not thinking entirely in words but possibly visually as well when they imagine the stories and ideas they are trying to put on paper. 

My father probably knows more about his own creative process than he thinks, but he brings up a good point.  He's an artistic person so why doesn't what I have to say here in this blog make sense to him? 

Maybe it's because I am engaging in a second creative pursuit called 'being a teaching artist'.  Not only do I pursue my own artistic and creative visions, but I also focus on how to teach my art in all it's complexities, in a way that I hope makes sense to young learners in academic settings.  I am an interpreter and a guide, using words to make my process clear to others. 

Being a guide to my art form requires me to have perspective on percussive dance as a whole (different styles and traditions, technique, and history) and at the same time be able to articulate to others about the specifics of my creative process as well as my intent as an artist.  For example, clogging is often taught in schools with the focus of teaching a traditional American art form.  Often, traditional artists will tell stories about someones grandfather who passed down a step to his granddaughter, or tales of which step came from whom, or how so-and-so took that step and turned it into something else, or an old square dance that is from a certain part of Kentucky that is still done today.  I did not grow up within a traditional dance and music community. I came to these wonderful traditions as an outsider; those stories are not my stories and  I don't feel like my teaching would be authentic if I brought clogging or step dance to kids that way.  So, I've decided to teach clogging a little differently.  The stories I tell kids through my teaching are more about how I hear the music, how I make choices about what sounds to make with my feet or how I go about making up my steps, and the thrill of taking part in music made by people who are in the same room, playing together.

That is my voice.  The beauty of any and all kinds of art is that there are an infinite number of ways to find a space for yourself and your individual voice.  But if you're a teaching artist you really must step back and reflect about how you use your voice, you must reflect on your own process, because not only are you are teaching about your art you are teaching about yourself as well.  The most important aspect of my job may very well be to ask the questions: Who am I?  What do I believe?  How do I see my art form?  What is my approach?  What is important about my work?  And then, take those answers into the classroom.

Not everyone wants to do this kind of work to make their process visible to others.  I'll admit, it is difficult to switch back and forth between multiple mind-spaces.  The artist part of me is the non-verbal, sensing part that experiences, creates, questions, experiments, listens, responds -- all of this in the moment.  The teaching artist part of me is the interpreter, picking just the right words to frame my work and create lessons that build skill, understanding and connections.  I also have a third role to fill -- the teacher as an artist.  In the end, I have young souls in front of me, many of them unsure of what we're about to do.  I know there is value and relevance in my work in relation their lives, but they don't know it...yet.  Every group of kids I work with is different in their temperament, interest, and school culture.  To really reach them I have to use, as my dad said, "...intuition and instinct, allowing the sub-conscious to take over" when faced with the challenge of real kids in real time.  It seems that what I do in the process of teaching dance is similar to my father's efforts to solve a 'visual problem' and that means he and I have more in common than he thinks. 

As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts!