Social Media
26 September 2013
The other day our volunteer librarian, Sarah and I were talking about our respective generations. The question arose, what does it mean to be social? She was sharing how her generation sees the relationship between technology use and social ability; that the people who are perceived to be the most social are those who are posting on various sites, constantly responding on twitter, catching up on Facebook, and sharing their points of view on blogs. They are considered current and connected. From my vantage point, those activities seem unidirectional and I began to wonder about that word “social.” Has the meaning of social become hijacked by techies or the word simply redefined, leaving my generation behind? And what does it mean to be social anyway?
Social dancing emerged as an instrument of communication. An exhibition on the history of social dance, An Invitation to Dance by the American Antiquarian Society states “Early Americans were significantly restricted in their forms of communication. Because it was considerably inaccessible, communication was very valuable to eighteenth and nineteenth century American. Limited technology meant limited communication which in turn created an environment where people could not contact each other with the ease and comfort we enjoy in modern society. The social institution of dance provided an arena for people to communicate with each other through the use of non-verbal and culturally acceptable movements and gestures.”
Today technology seems limitless—so what does that suggest about the social role of dancing? When two people dance together, they navigate nuances of bodies in space. They become attuned to subtle shifts of weight, pressure and learn to co-construct a relationship to musicality. This requires such a different skill set than choosing what to retweet or responding to Facebook images and updates. Or does it? By today’s definition of social, some dancers with highly developed relationship skills may not be viewed as “social” because they do not engage with “social media.” Even on an institutional level, arts nonprofit leaders are flocking to seminars and webinars on “how to engage with your audience through social media.” Some larger nonprofits even have a Director of Social Media. What skills overlap? What is being put aside? Is this a march through progress? Is there value in putting down the Smart Phone and grabbing a dance partner or is it more social to stay at home on the weekend and watch YouTube videos made by individuals in their respective apartments?
Always flexible, dancers as a whole tend to try to adapt—at nearly every conference I’ve attended there seems to be a push to bring technology more and more into our work. At the funding level, too, technology sometimes is valued over live performance. So, I see a divide, each group defending their choices, but only to others on the same side—we aren’t necessarily talking to each other. Some feel that we need to move forward, technology is here, get with the program or you’ll be left behind. Others feel as if the entire population is losing its ability to have real relationships, to connect in meaningful ways. The Millennial generation defines connection and being social by the amount of time spent online. Many of my generation fear that if people lose the capacity to develop meaningful interpersonal skills chaos will reign—violence will increase and depression and other social ills. Humans by their nature are social animals. We need others to survive. Evolutionary adaptation will always move toward survival and thus toward communication and social connection. I am curious about the role dance will continue to play in this process.
(preedy)
Deja Vu
Consider dance educator, AG*. Like many dance educators in California, a state without a teaching credential in the art form, AG is super educated and qualified for a career as a dance educator. With a lifetime of training and performing in dance, in a variety of dance forms, she pursued a teaching credential with a minor in dance as her undergraduate studies. Upon graduation, AG was excited to teach in what was then called inner-city communities. She wanted to provide access to dance to children who lived in communities where expression through the arts was not readily available. AG discovered that her teaching degree did not allow her to teach dance in public schools so she enrolled in San Francisco State’s Physical Education with Dance Emphasis program—the only path to becoming a qualified dance teacher in Northern California. AG took her degrees “on the road” in search of a dance teaching job, only to discover that few existed. She had completed her student teaching with legendary Marcia Singhman at Berkeley High School and thus had a very high bar in mind for what a quality dance program should be. Finally able to procure a teaching job at a public middle school, she slowly and tenaciously built a dance program over seven years. The first wave of arts slashing in the early 1990’s shut down that program, yet AG continued teaching visual art there while seeking another opportunity for dance. When the newly re-organized public Arts Academy** opened, a dream opportunity awaited for AG.
Over the course of another seven years, AG developed another exemplary program, this time at Arts Academy. Students living in a community with high dropout rates, poverty and violence, found sanctuary in the dance studio. Grounded in a strong, standards-based approach, AG’s dance curriculum allows teens to craft their emotional experiences into works of art, study the technical styles of a wide-range of modern dance and cultural dance forms and collaborate with artists in other media. She provided opportunities for her students to perform their original works outside of the confines on the annual high school performance. Her students presented at local dance festivals and at the National Dance Education Organization’s annual conference. They formed the first California chapter of the National Dance Honor Society and each year since, AG’s students met the rigorous requirements. Unfortunately in 2011, due to the state budget crisis, Arts Academy merged with three other small schools to become one large high school. AG kept her district tenure by moving to a local elementary school to teach visual art again, while fulfilling her dedication to dance education through part-time teaching at local charter schools. Because she thirsts for putting her massive talent bank to use to create a viable, thriving dance education program and is passionate about returning full time to dance education, AG is once again looking for an opportunity to create a dance program.
The comprehensive study, An Unfinished Canvas[i], reported that despite legislating the California Visual and Performing Arts Standards in 2001 and publication of both the standards and companion framework, little dance and theater has been offered to California students. And, as in all art forms, what is being offered continues to disproportionately underserve low-income and students of color. The second publication of An Unfinished Canvas reports the challenges of a lack of credential in dance and the inconsistent and sometimes absent teacher preparation and professional development in the arts.[ii] In total, the 3 publications of this study reveal what we in the field know from firsthand experience—the lack of understanding of what standards-based dance is, combined with inadequate teacher preparation and mixed messages about who should be teaching dance, results in a message to communities that dance is not valued. Despite massive evidence to the contrary about the value of all four arts disciplines to a comprehensive education, the national focus on eradicating obesity and extensive neuroscience research reporting the importance of movement to learning, public school district superintendents and school boards continue to make decisions that underfund the arts generally and provide little or no resources to dance. Even when a dance program exists, decision makers rarely think it through and make program decisions based on very narrow understanding of what a dance program requires for success. The latest California Department of Education data shows that not much has shifted since the publication of An Unfinished Canvas despite local initiatives to increase access to all arts education for every student every day. While Luna and our constituents cannot tilt the political will in California toward dance education, we recognize some of the forces that continue the status quo. In a “catch-22 cycle” dance programs are underfunded and often merged into larger arts education initiatives, often run by a teacher-leader in a discipline other than dance. Then, with too few resources, Visual and Performing Arts leaders focus attention on their own strengths so the historically stronger art forms–art and music–continue to (relatively) thrive while dance and theater become an afterthought. Dance educators often do not rise to positions of leadership within the state department of education in part because their programs are not funded continuously enough to reach the “radar” of the general population.
I have dedicated a career to asking the tough questions about access and equity in dance delivery, showcasing and increasing the rigor of creativity and risk-taking, improving teaching practice and partnering with others to build cultures of dance. Now, as I enter the final stretch of my active working years, it feels as if I, along with my colleagues in the field, have been running very fast on a proverbial hamster wheel. To paraphrase one of the most inspirational leaders of our time, “the road to freedom is very long but always arcs up.” In the field of dance education, that arc is often difficult to see.
*pseudonym
**generic school name
[i] Center for Education Policy, SRI International (2007) An Unfinished Canvas: Arts Education in California, Taking Stock of Policies and Practices (commissioned by William & Flora Hewlett Foundation).
[ii] Center for Education Policy, SRI International (2008) An Unfinished Canvas: Teacher Preparation, Instructional Delivery and Professional Development in the Arts (commissioned by William & Flora Hewlett Foundation).
The evidence you need
Dance in schools results in increased test scores, lower drop-out rates, improved morale and positive changes in self-perception. It supports the learning of underserved populations. The National Dance Education Organization has just released a 65-page report reviewing the research on dance education to-date. To read it for yourself, go to www.ndeo.org then click the highlighted title, Evidence: A report on the impact of dance in the K-12 setting. Then, use what you read to advance the field.
Serious Play
Tuesday, 17 September 2013
“Children at play are not playing about. Their games should be seen as their most serious minded activity.” These words of 16th century French essayist Montaigne were never more evidenced than in this seasons Toddler series. This morning I watched a bit of Alisa’s parent-child dance class. Tiny, determined boys and girls strode into the dance studio and immediately tracked down the biggest prop they could find. Soon, every child was carrying at least one very large item: physio balls, yoga blocks, big drums, etc. Discovering and placing items was important business. I watched parents of these powerful two year olds wondering where to put their energy and attention. It is probably not typical for them to have nothing to do but witness the manifestation of their child’s intention. Yet, at its core, that is what we ask parents to learn to do as they bring their children to our studio. We ask them to watch their children grow from fully attached beings who cannot transport themselves through space without adult help, to low-level motorized crawlers and waddlers, to purposeful toddlers; at each level exhibiting a new level of independence—yet still needing parental support. Alisa skillfully scaffolds this evolving interdependent dance by writing up the key concepts, guiding parent observation and narrating what she sees. It is my hope that these early collaborative dance experiences set the parents up to champion the child’s journey as dancemaker and performer. How can the parent learn to see the child’s intention in movement and encourage both more risk and more clarity? How do parents appraise the appropriate challenges of a particular class or program? What does rigor look like in creativity and dancemaking? These questions are guiding my work right now in many areas: parent communication, professional learning and writing my new booklet with the working title, the Rigor of Creativity. (preedy)
A Dancer Writes
September 12, 2013
Today was the first day that I adhered to my new schedule, allocating Thursdays to writing. I have a big list. I’m writing a second edition of my book, Body, Mind & Spirit IN ACTION: a teacher’s guide to creative dance because I have learned so much since I began writing it in 2000, completing in 2003. Also on my list is a series of companion books that provide a little closer look at various aspects of dance teaching. At this juncture I’m talking about Family Dance, Dance in Early Childhood and a third with the working title, The Rigors of Creativity, addressing how to hold the bar high for future dance-makers. I’ve read many books on writing from Natalie Goldberg to bell hooks to Eudora Welty to the classic, So You Want to Be a Writer by Brenda Ueland. To paraphrase my favorite part of that book, Ms. Ueland writes about how important it is that writers take a walk for one hour every day. ‘Except, when things are really in crisis.’ “During those times,” the sage recommends, “nothing less than two hours will do.”
The challenge for me is that I’m trying to embrace these writing projects, along with a queue of articles I’ve agreed to write, as THE creative project when I’m accustomed to dance-making as my creative work. I’m having problems carving out time to sit and write when it would be equally difficult to carve out time to go into the studio and craft. And that is where my comfort lives. There is a scale that lives in my mind, constantly weighing the relative values of writing vs. working vs. creating through dance. How can I prioritize one over the other? While I know we’re talking about prioritizing for now and, truth be told I’ve prioritized working 8-12 hour days for the past 10 years and dance-making for ten years before that. No matter, I’ve committed this time for writing and every one of the writers mentioned in the first paragraph say a version of the same thing, sit down and let your hand move consistently across the page for at least one ten-minute free-write every day. So, as indulgent as it seems to be writing about the writing process, I’m going to use this blog forum as a vessel for one aspect of my pre-writing/journaling process. The hope is that ideas will emerge that can become larger ideas. In this world of social media, perhaps it can also teach me and others something about the creative process as one crosses media.
(preedy…ps, if i keep at this, i will start a new page on this website to keep the writing process separate from the other musings.)
Thinking About Space
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
As a dancer and choreographer, I have always enjoyed the use of space. At various times in my youth, I might have said that purposefully navigating space and crafting with it is what separates dance as an art form from other physical endeavors. My opinions have opened up as I age and become more humble, yet I still find so much satisfaction in the design elements that are revealed through manipulating the spatial element. Even as dance enjoys popularity on television and the internet, I find myself left wanting. What is happening to the art form of choreography when the camera operators and editors are making the artistic decisions? Of course technology opens up vast possibilities for the art of dance and even composition, yet at the same time, how is it shifting perception and controlling our view? Like anyone, I can find immense pleasure in photographs of bodies in motion—whether of a basketball player in full reach lay-up, a roofer scampering up a ladder while her co-worker is splayed on the nearby pitch of a roof, or a roller derby team gaining momentum around the bend. The body of a dancer in action or stillness is no less captivating. At the same time, what excites me about the art and craft of choreography is how the artist directs my eye around the stage and I see the mover in relation to other things—open space, props, sets, people or audience. Relationships create visual design and that makes me feel things—sometimes satisfaction from a sense of harmony or tension as I worry about a dancer falling off the stage or vulnerability, intimacy, mystery or a number of subtle possibilities. As the field of dance making shifts and changes, I hope that crafting space will continue to be an important part of what is taught, learned and experienced. I fear that with increased focus on the tricks a body can perform, we are in a period of forgetting to think about or taking for granted this instrumental aspect of the art of dance. (preedy)
Shifting Accountability
Monday, September 9, 2013
What happens when an organization loses funding from a government agency with very rigorous evaluation and accountability requirements? What types of assessment tools will allow us to be accountable to our own high standards beyond that of any single funder? These are questions we are currently asking ourselves as we diversify the funding of our MPACT (Moving Parents and Children Together) program. Although each funding source has its own priorities in terms of data collection, most accept and appreciate Luna’s thorough evaluation methods. As we transition MPACT from its Alameda-centric delivery, specifically in the case where two of our three partner residential centers are folding, we seek to delve deeper into the neighborhoods in which we’ve already developed relationships. Looking to strengthen “cultures of dance” in three specific neighborhoods: East Oakland/81st Street; Fruitvale; and Marin City/Sausalito, we’re building upon relationships that have been in play for more than a dozen years; and now, no longer tethered to serving children under age 5, we want to document how we bring dance to children and families from cradle to grave. For example, how do we trace the experience of the young girl who danced with her foster mother at the Eastmont library MPACT classes, later danced with her birth mother at a residential facility and later still was a first grade dancer in one of Luna’s school programs? She sees dance as integral to her identity—a friendly accompaniment across relationships and “homes.” Dance as continuity has been the case for several children we’ve taught in MPACT classes and now we want to be strategic in our efforts to create pathways for families to stay connected across venues through the art of dance. Making visible the various pathways possible is what we want our new evaluation process to accomplish. (preedy)
Engagement
Thursday, September 4, 2013
As teachers, we want to see engagement. Yesterday, day two of our annual staff Orientation, we spent some time viewing videos of dance teaching in our programs. As faculty gave their impressions of what we were seeing, we used words like, “risk-taking,” “engagement,” or “confidence.” It was pretty clear that among us, we knew what the others meant by such language—we were reasonably sure that our colleagues were seeing what we saw. At the same time, it was equally clear that if other, non-Luna teachers used those same words to describe their teaching we would have no idea if they would be seeing or meaning the same thing. Back in graduate school, I learned about Lesson Study as a way to collaboratively assess value of curriculum and student work among disparate groups of students. Of course, bringing together a group of educators who trust each other enough to argue, bicker and persevere until consensus is reached is an exciting, yet rare opportunity. Thus, it also became clear that as we reflect on our teaching and learning, as well as the evolving understanding and experience of our students, it is important to go beyond those big important conceptual words that have been overused to the point of meaninglessness. We need to get better at rich, descriptive language that conveys what we mean. For example, when someone says students are engaged, in my mind there is a lot of energy in their faces and bodies, they may forget to raise their hands and instead shout out answers and more significantly augment their peers answers with, “yes, and…” statements. There may be interruptions or overlapped talking, maybe even a side-bar or two, but it is because the question asked or the topic being explored has meaning to them. Of course, this is a culturally- and aesthetically-biased interpretation of the appearance of engagement. I know from my own teaching experience that I don’t always get to see engagement in glaring evidence—that students often take in, process and then respond to information in their own time and way. So, maybe looking for engagement is not the best marker of success in a classroom? In any case, I’m interested in encouraging teachers to become more specific and descriptive about what they are seeing and how their observations support their interpretations of student learning. (preedy)
A New Day
Wednesday, September 3, 2013
Back to School! That is what yesterday felt like in every way. The day began with a major catch-up director’s meeting. Nancy and I are orienting new staff, initiating a different approach to fundraising for 2013-14 and managing delays in cash flow. At 11:30 our multi-faceted orientation began. This year’s strategy was to have other faculty take on aspects of Orientation. Nancy started us off with a walk through Luna’s history followed by a re-commitment to our three Critical Paths. Staff was so ready for the goal setting process that ideas were bouncing around the room and we left that session very clear about where we’re headed for the upcoming year. A major direction this year is a shift in my role as the founder. While I’ll still retain my responsibilities as Director of Teaching & Learning, the amazing proficiency of our team is mandating that I back away from day-to-day operations of Luna and focus on putting the last ten years of Luna’s investigations on the page. This is a scary new endeavor for me and, at a later Public Relations session led by Cherie we decided that writing about it in diary/blog format might allow for some daily low-stakes writing practice and make our process transparent to other dance educators and arts organizations who may be grappling with similar transitions. The day ended with a two-hour cocktail party to welcome dance educators back to their academic year. Attendees included Summer Institute veterans from several years back as well as new comers to Luna. A few brought their children and partners. Wine & cheese were consumed with relish, folks gathered around our new library books and we danced together-connecting with colleagues old and new. After cleaning up the crumbs, I spent an hour revising my October InDance article and returned home exhausted but satisfied. (preedy)
A question to launch the year is how do dance educators bring their SELVES to the teaching situation?