Wow - I'm afraid I've been pretty sparse with the posts the last couple of months… I guess my excuse is that teaching two entirely different subjects in two schools does manage to take up a lot of time!
This fall I haven't been able to do nearly as much creative dance with my elementary school kids (officially visual art students) as I did last year, primarily because of the small space for my classes this year — for the bigger kids (4th/5th graders) in larger classes, we just don't have the room to move safely. But I have managed to fit in some brief bits of dance for the kinders and first graders, and it has been a pleasure to see how open these little ones are to trying new things.
A few weeks back we were working on color theory — primaries and secondaries — and I incorporated a little bit of a dance lesson. We started by talking about how the three primaries can create different feelings; then we did a little exploration on energy qualities. I had thought that blue and red would correspond well to the smooth/sharp dichotomy, since blue seems to naturally fit with smooth movements flowing like water, and red with sharp, sudden, anger; so I just picked happy and bouncy for yellow (because of daisies, the sun, etc…). After thoroughly exploring those qualities, I asked the kids to show me "if blue is smooth, red is sharp, and yellow is bouncy, how would green (or purple, or orange) move? I was amazed that nearly every child had a very clear idea for each color would move, and showed it beautifully in movement! It struck me that this is a challenge which may very well have frozen my teenagers (or me, for that matter) — but these first graders, not yet over-thinking their movement, took quite naturally to the synesthesia ad carried it through. It reminded me that, although I love working with the advanced teens who are able to do so much, it is also refreshing to be back working with the little ones who can dive into their creativity with truly wild abandon!
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
the Ancestors project
One of the pretty successful projects that I set for my Dance Production classes at EOSA was the year-long dance history project, or the Dance Ancestors project as we called it later. The first time I tried this was in 2006-07, in EOSA's third year. The assignment was to choose a contributor to dance history and research their lives, how they contributed to the history of the form, and their actual dance styles; and the end product of the research would be a research paper (of course), and a final choreography in that choreographer's style. I had to define “contributor to dance history” as someone who had at least been around long enough to have influenced later dancers and choreographers in some way — knocking out a lot of favorite video artists (“Can I do Chris Brown?” “No — he’s not even old enough!”). Along the way, I also added a preliminary paper on the specific points of the research subject’s style, just to be sure the kids were making informed choreographic choices and not just copying steps off a video. I supported the project with a small in-class dance history library (I had spent the summer browsing the used bookstores), my slightly more extensive home dance video library... and lots of individual consultation.
This first year, it had all started as a suggestion from Patricia from Luna to focus the whole school year — the theory was that students would pick their research subjects in the first six weeks, and I could spend the whole Fall semester teaching technique classes in all those different dance styles... Of course, it didn’t quite work out that way — with a few exceptions, getting the kids to settle on a research subject was like pulling teeth, until they absolutely had to because the Spring concert was getting way too close. So the whole focusing-the-year thing didn’t really work out the way I thought…
What did happen, though, was that the project completely jolted the kids out of their ordinary hip hop or Cumbia comfort zones. Suddenly, I was seeing kids who, just the year before, had been doing the old fitting-favorite-steps-to-mixes-of-favorite-songs thing — now really researching new dance styles and coming up with movements I had never seen from them before… In the spring concert, we had dances in the styles of Alvin Ailey, Garth Fagan, Katherine Dunham, Bob Fosse, Josephine Baker, Amalia Hernandez, Jamila Salimpour, Michael Jackson, and Mr. Wiggles (my personal favorite was Josephine Baker) — with differing levels of success, of course, but almost everyone tried something they had never done before.
Three years later (after devoting the intervening years to dance as a response to history and social issues, then dance as a response to words or text) I decided to try it again. This time, I did learn from the first time — instead of waiting for them to choose research subjects, I jump-started the year by teaching them some snippets of classic dance works in the fall semester, when the class usually focused on technique. With each snippet we learned, of course we also learned about the choreographer, their contribution to dance history, and their technical style, through readings as well as video observations.
We focused on modern, but I wanted to start with ballet, so that they could feel in their bodies what modern rebelled against. So we began by learning a tiny bit of Balanchine's Serenade… that fall was also when we did a lot of lecture-dems for 8th-graders at all our feeder middle schools, and we showed what they had learned of Serenade at the first few — seeing my EOSA dancers moving in unison, with that lovely slow beginning, was a moving experience for me!
I felt we needed to start our modern dance history work at the beginning, with Isadora, even though that is one technique I was relatively unfamiliar with. Fortunately, over the summer I had been able to take a workshop on Duncan technique at the NDEO conference, so I was able to share what I learned… Next we moved into Weidman and then Hawkins, both techniques where I felt on very solid ground (Humphrey-Weidman was the technique I first studied in college — had I known how hard it was to come by in the greater dance world, I would have taken more careful notes!— and Hawkins is the technique I have studied for decades with Ruth Botchan). We began by learning both sections of Dramatic Falls from Charles Weidman's Brahms Waltzes. This is a piece I had learned in college, from a teacher who had been a dancer in Weidman's company, so it was truly a thrill to be able to share a couple of sections with my students and see them perform it. We then reconstructed a little bit of Erick Hawkins' Classic Kite Tails, and then finished the fall semester with Alvin Ailey's I Been 'Buked, the opening section of Revelations.
When it came time for the class to begin their own choreography finals, this time the students were a little more prepared to pick a choreographer to study and get started. Again we had a wide range of styles — from classic modern dance (Graham, Hawkins, Weidman) to traditional and classic jazz (Josephine Baker, Frankie Manning, Bob Fosse), to choreographers of traditional cultural forms (Katherine Dunham, Madeline Mou'a), to seminal street-dance forms (Tommy the Clown).The two students who chose Hawkins and Weidman began with tiny snippets of the movement we had learned and created their own variations on them, then worried about their dances being "too much copying" — I had to remind them that "Variations on a Theme by…" is a venerable dance and music form! My favorite statement of the project was from I____, one of the two boys in the class — he chose Martha Graham as his subject; and when I asked him why he chose her in particular (since her style was extremely different from his own accustomed style), he said "I researched a lot of choreographers and she seemed to be really important, so I wanted to learn about her." His choreography turned out to be one of the highlights of the final concert.
This first year, it had all started as a suggestion from Patricia from Luna to focus the whole school year — the theory was that students would pick their research subjects in the first six weeks, and I could spend the whole Fall semester teaching technique classes in all those different dance styles... Of course, it didn’t quite work out that way — with a few exceptions, getting the kids to settle on a research subject was like pulling teeth, until they absolutely had to because the Spring concert was getting way too close. So the whole focusing-the-year thing didn’t really work out the way I thought…
What did happen, though, was that the project completely jolted the kids out of their ordinary hip hop or Cumbia comfort zones. Suddenly, I was seeing kids who, just the year before, had been doing the old fitting-favorite-steps-to-mixes-of-favorite-songs thing — now really researching new dance styles and coming up with movements I had never seen from them before… In the spring concert, we had dances in the styles of Alvin Ailey, Garth Fagan, Katherine Dunham, Bob Fosse, Josephine Baker, Amalia Hernandez, Jamila Salimpour, Michael Jackson, and Mr. Wiggles (my personal favorite was Josephine Baker) — with differing levels of success, of course, but almost everyone tried something they had never done before.
Three years later (after devoting the intervening years to dance as a response to history and social issues, then dance as a response to words or text) I decided to try it again. This time, I did learn from the first time — instead of waiting for them to choose research subjects, I jump-started the year by teaching them some snippets of classic dance works in the fall semester, when the class usually focused on technique. With each snippet we learned, of course we also learned about the choreographer, their contribution to dance history, and their technical style, through readings as well as video observations.
We focused on modern, but I wanted to start with ballet, so that they could feel in their bodies what modern rebelled against. So we began by learning a tiny bit of Balanchine's Serenade… that fall was also when we did a lot of lecture-dems for 8th-graders at all our feeder middle schools, and we showed what they had learned of Serenade at the first few — seeing my EOSA dancers moving in unison, with that lovely slow beginning, was a moving experience for me!
I felt we needed to start our modern dance history work at the beginning, with Isadora, even though that is one technique I was relatively unfamiliar with. Fortunately, over the summer I had been able to take a workshop on Duncan technique at the NDEO conference, so I was able to share what I learned… Next we moved into Weidman and then Hawkins, both techniques where I felt on very solid ground (Humphrey-Weidman was the technique I first studied in college — had I known how hard it was to come by in the greater dance world, I would have taken more careful notes!— and Hawkins is the technique I have studied for decades with Ruth Botchan). We began by learning both sections of Dramatic Falls from Charles Weidman's Brahms Waltzes. This is a piece I had learned in college, from a teacher who had been a dancer in Weidman's company, so it was truly a thrill to be able to share a couple of sections with my students and see them perform it. We then reconstructed a little bit of Erick Hawkins' Classic Kite Tails, and then finished the fall semester with Alvin Ailey's I Been 'Buked, the opening section of Revelations.
When it came time for the class to begin their own choreography finals, this time the students were a little more prepared to pick a choreographer to study and get started. Again we had a wide range of styles — from classic modern dance (Graham, Hawkins, Weidman) to traditional and classic jazz (Josephine Baker, Frankie Manning, Bob Fosse), to choreographers of traditional cultural forms (Katherine Dunham, Madeline Mou'a), to seminal street-dance forms (Tommy the Clown).The two students who chose Hawkins and Weidman began with tiny snippets of the movement we had learned and created their own variations on them, then worried about their dances being "too much copying" — I had to remind them that "Variations on a Theme by…" is a venerable dance and music form! My favorite statement of the project was from I____, one of the two boys in the class — he chose Martha Graham as his subject; and when I asked him why he chose her in particular (since her style was extremely different from his own accustomed style), he said "I researched a lot of choreographers and she seemed to be really important, so I wanted to learn about her." His choreography turned out to be one of the highlights of the final concert.
Monday, November 12, 2012
NDEO 2012
Well, now that I've been back for a couple of weeks it is high time to write about the NDEO conference, my first in three years. I was especially excited to attend this conference because the theme this year was "Collaborations: Many Cultures — Strength Through Diversity," so it promised many sessions on the intersection of traditional cultural dance forms, creative work, and dance education.
I spent most of a day in transit, since I took the train down to LA — I never fly at all unless it's a true emergency (something that hasn't happened yet, and I don't anticipate), since it's one of the most environmentally destructive things an individual can do… and the bonus is that the train is sooo nice and relaxing! No hassles with security, just hop on at the station and then sit down and read a book for the next 8 hours or so… a lovely way to prepare for a full weekend.
The first full day, I started out taking a workshop on "Jean Erdman and Hula". After a lifetime of modern dance, I knew very little about Jean Erdman -- I learned that she was born in Honolulu and grew up dancing traditional hula, but then took up modern dance and became a principal dancer for Martha Graham before breaking away to form her own company. She was also married to Joseph Campbell and had an intense interest in mythology, which infused her choreography. The workshop was given by a longtime member of Erdman's dance company, and it was fascinating to me as someone who has also tried to successfully fuse traditional forms with modern dance technique. We learned one traditional hula, then she talked about layering — traditional hula uses three layers of movement: the lele or weight-shifting pattern; the core isolations (mostly hips, in hula); and the hand and arm gestures. She then asked us to create our own short dance phrase, using those layers — beginning with the weight-shifting / stepping pattern, adding hip, shoulder, and torso articulations, and then adding arms and hand gestures. When we were finished, our phrases were based in modern technique, but had a little of the spirit of hula within them… This one was a very good start to the weekend!
My next session was with Mme. Wakana Hamayagi, a master of Japanese classical dance, or nihon buyo — a priceless presentation from a true master artist. Later that afternoon, I attended a workshop on "Exploring the Arab World through Dance and Music." This was an excellent historical presentation, with lots of information on the real history of Middle Eastern dance… how raqs sharki, the traditional women's dance form, was brought to the west, fed through circus and stage elements, and turned into what is now thought of as "belly dance"… fascinating and very complete for one hour!
I also attended a session on "Why Are There So Many White Women Here? Addressing Whiteness in Dance Education," which as you might imagine led to some rich conversations among the participants. The "aha" for me in this one had to do with that question I wrote about not long ago, on how much of an expert do you need to be to teach any particular form… One of the the teachers in my discussion group said that with each new dance form she teaches, she tells her students that "I am not an expert in this, I did not grow up with this dance form, but I learned some of it and would like to share it with you." That seemed like a good message, and I hope I remember it next time I teach a form that I am not as confident with as I would like to be.
The second day, I started with a session called "Ordinary Objects" taught by Maya and Ruth, a couple of participants from Luna's Summer Institute. What a great lesson! It was all about recycling — we used recycled objects (mostly colorful butcher paper left over from an elementary classroom) to create imaginative duets. This one included a big "aha!" moment — the workshop began with a discussion of recycling, how we take one object and turn it into something else useful… then as we explored movements, we were reminded to "feel free to be inspired by any movement you see around you, recycle it into your own…" and I realized that recycling is a wonderful way to approach the perennial complaint of "she's copying me!" I have always tried to stress that no movement is truly unique, we all take movement we learn or see and create our own movement from it… but the idea of taking movement and "recycling" it into your own, new movement seems like a great angle into that conversation.
Next I took a workshop on Balkan folk dance rhythms from Elissaveta Iordanova, a folk and modern dancer originally from Bulgaria. We learned (or re-learned, for an old folk dancer like me) some traditional dances in meters ranging from 2/4 to 7/8 and 11/16, then improvised on those rhythms… For me, it was a rare treat just to be able to do a Paidushko, Rachenitsa, and Kopanitsa at an NDEO conference! I then got to another great workshop on traditional jazz dance from Karen Hubbard, a mentee of one of the original Savoy Ballroom dancers — this one was so timely for me, as I was in the middle of the Big Apple historical dance unit with my Aspire class…
On Saturday I got to take a workshop from Anne Green Gilbert. She is one of the founding mothers of creative dance education, and an endless source of ideas for explorations — her books are among those I most depend on when planning my creative-work classes. This one was on "Folk Dancing in Brain-Based Dance Classes," and used some simple folk dance structures as frames for elements in a creative dance class. It was a thrill to finally take a workshop from Anne — and folk-dance oriented, to boot!
In general, the conference was wonderful for me because I had the chance to work on adding to my dance teaching skills and curriculum, while thoroughly indulging my love for folk and traditional dance forms… My one regret was that I brought along my camera, but never actually found the time to get it out and take pictures! I highly recommend Jakey Toor's blog, as she took lots of pictures as well as lots of notes, and also wrote about many of the workshops I didn't get a chance to attend.
I spent most of a day in transit, since I took the train down to LA — I never fly at all unless it's a true emergency (something that hasn't happened yet, and I don't anticipate), since it's one of the most environmentally destructive things an individual can do… and the bonus is that the train is sooo nice and relaxing! No hassles with security, just hop on at the station and then sit down and read a book for the next 8 hours or so… a lovely way to prepare for a full weekend.
The first full day, I started out taking a workshop on "Jean Erdman and Hula". After a lifetime of modern dance, I knew very little about Jean Erdman -- I learned that she was born in Honolulu and grew up dancing traditional hula, but then took up modern dance and became a principal dancer for Martha Graham before breaking away to form her own company. She was also married to Joseph Campbell and had an intense interest in mythology, which infused her choreography. The workshop was given by a longtime member of Erdman's dance company, and it was fascinating to me as someone who has also tried to successfully fuse traditional forms with modern dance technique. We learned one traditional hula, then she talked about layering — traditional hula uses three layers of movement: the lele or weight-shifting pattern; the core isolations (mostly hips, in hula); and the hand and arm gestures. She then asked us to create our own short dance phrase, using those layers — beginning with the weight-shifting / stepping pattern, adding hip, shoulder, and torso articulations, and then adding arms and hand gestures. When we were finished, our phrases were based in modern technique, but had a little of the spirit of hula within them… This one was a very good start to the weekend!
My next session was with Mme. Wakana Hamayagi, a master of Japanese classical dance, or nihon buyo — a priceless presentation from a true master artist. Later that afternoon, I attended a workshop on "Exploring the Arab World through Dance and Music." This was an excellent historical presentation, with lots of information on the real history of Middle Eastern dance… how raqs sharki, the traditional women's dance form, was brought to the west, fed through circus and stage elements, and turned into what is now thought of as "belly dance"… fascinating and very complete for one hour!
I also attended a session on "Why Are There So Many White Women Here? Addressing Whiteness in Dance Education," which as you might imagine led to some rich conversations among the participants. The "aha" for me in this one had to do with that question I wrote about not long ago, on how much of an expert do you need to be to teach any particular form… One of the the teachers in my discussion group said that with each new dance form she teaches, she tells her students that "I am not an expert in this, I did not grow up with this dance form, but I learned some of it and would like to share it with you." That seemed like a good message, and I hope I remember it next time I teach a form that I am not as confident with as I would like to be.
The second day, I started with a session called "Ordinary Objects" taught by Maya and Ruth, a couple of participants from Luna's Summer Institute. What a great lesson! It was all about recycling — we used recycled objects (mostly colorful butcher paper left over from an elementary classroom) to create imaginative duets. This one included a big "aha!" moment — the workshop began with a discussion of recycling, how we take one object and turn it into something else useful… then as we explored movements, we were reminded to "feel free to be inspired by any movement you see around you, recycle it into your own…" and I realized that recycling is a wonderful way to approach the perennial complaint of "she's copying me!" I have always tried to stress that no movement is truly unique, we all take movement we learn or see and create our own movement from it… but the idea of taking movement and "recycling" it into your own, new movement seems like a great angle into that conversation.
Next I took a workshop on Balkan folk dance rhythms from Elissaveta Iordanova, a folk and modern dancer originally from Bulgaria. We learned (or re-learned, for an old folk dancer like me) some traditional dances in meters ranging from 2/4 to 7/8 and 11/16, then improvised on those rhythms… For me, it was a rare treat just to be able to do a Paidushko, Rachenitsa, and Kopanitsa at an NDEO conference! I then got to another great workshop on traditional jazz dance from Karen Hubbard, a mentee of one of the original Savoy Ballroom dancers — this one was so timely for me, as I was in the middle of the Big Apple historical dance unit with my Aspire class…
On Saturday I got to take a workshop from Anne Green Gilbert. She is one of the founding mothers of creative dance education, and an endless source of ideas for explorations — her books are among those I most depend on when planning my creative-work classes. This one was on "Folk Dancing in Brain-Based Dance Classes," and used some simple folk dance structures as frames for elements in a creative dance class. It was a thrill to finally take a workshop from Anne — and folk-dance oriented, to boot!
In general, the conference was wonderful for me because I had the chance to work on adding to my dance teaching skills and curriculum, while thoroughly indulging my love for folk and traditional dance forms… My one regret was that I brought along my camera, but never actually found the time to get it out and take pictures! I highly recommend Jakey Toor's blog, as she took lots of pictures as well as lots of notes, and also wrote about many of the workshops I didn't get a chance to attend.
Friday, October 19, 2012
NDEO conference… and EOSA dancers
I'll be leaving for the NDEO (National Dance Education Organization) conference in Los Angeles next week, and it has put me in mind of the last couple conferences I attended… It's been a few years since I made it (I won't fly anymore because of the environmental destructiveness of air travel); and it's been even longer since I went on my own — my last two conferences I was able to bring students along, which was quite an experience (for me, and I hope for them as well!)
Four years ago (that same year that I wrote about back in August, in All Arms Open…) I was to present a workshop at the conference on my Dance Production class' choreography projects. By happy circumstance, that was the the year that schools in California received a pretty substantial block grant for arts and PE, so I ended up with a windfall of funds for equipment or professional development… After the work that class had done, creating art out of the most difficult circumstances of their lives, I jumped at the chance to take a few students along to help with my workshop and to experience the conference. I asked three students, true class leaders, to make the trip to Maryland. One was disallowed by the district at the last minute (a long story), so two made it — one junior and one senior.
We spent most of the conference taking workshops and technique classes. The first day, both kids were kind of shy and kept fading to the back in the technique classes, worried about missing steps — I had to keep reminding them that they were taking class next to a bunch of dance teachers and they were definitely the youngest folks there! But confidence came a long way in three days — by the last day, A_____ jumped right out into the front line in the West African class.
The last day, the kids helped with my presentation, and made a huge hit with the teachers who came to our session. We told some stories about life in East Oakland, the choreography finals on history, and the Dance IS piece on youth killings in Oakland. T_____ taught a little of her own choreography final (on prisoners), they both taught some of the movement from the Dance IS piece, and we showed video clips of both dances. We left time for a Q&A, and all of the questions were for the students. The best part of the conference for me was the validation the kids received, especially T_____ — I had asked her to teach a part of her own choreography final for our workshop, and she worried to me that "I don't know how to teach"… then she got to see all the teachers learning her movement from her and loving it (some of them were pulling out some of her "moves" at the post-banquet dance party!)
The next year, A_____ had applied for NDEO's national student award (the Artistic Merit, Leadership, and Academic Achievement Award), and been awarded an honorable mention; so we fundraised for her to be able to attend the conference again. I think it was more difficult for her this time, as she was the only teenager there among so many adults — less camaraderie, more weird grown-up food… But she was able to experience New York, the dance capital of the US; and she was able to participate in Bill Evans' "Passing on the Legacy" site-specific choreography for high school and college students (or, herself and about twenty college students), performed beautifully in the lobby of LaGuardia Arts High School on the last day of the conference.
So, this week I will be at the conference on my own for the first time in years… I guess I will have a little more freedom to run around to all of the workshops without the responsibility of looking after a teenager or two — but also without the richness of being able to share the experience with budding young dance artists. Attending a dance teachers' conference has always been a rejuvenating experience... but sharing it with students was truly unforgettable.
Four years ago (that same year that I wrote about back in August, in All Arms Open…) I was to present a workshop at the conference on my Dance Production class' choreography projects. By happy circumstance, that was the the year that schools in California received a pretty substantial block grant for arts and PE, so I ended up with a windfall of funds for equipment or professional development… After the work that class had done, creating art out of the most difficult circumstances of their lives, I jumped at the chance to take a few students along to help with my workshop and to experience the conference. I asked three students, true class leaders, to make the trip to Maryland. One was disallowed by the district at the last minute (a long story), so two made it — one junior and one senior.
We spent most of the conference taking workshops and technique classes. The first day, both kids were kind of shy and kept fading to the back in the technique classes, worried about missing steps — I had to keep reminding them that they were taking class next to a bunch of dance teachers and they were definitely the youngest folks there! But confidence came a long way in three days — by the last day, A_____ jumped right out into the front line in the West African class.
The last day, the kids helped with my presentation, and made a huge hit with the teachers who came to our session. We told some stories about life in East Oakland, the choreography finals on history, and the Dance IS piece on youth killings in Oakland. T_____ taught a little of her own choreography final (on prisoners), they both taught some of the movement from the Dance IS piece, and we showed video clips of both dances. We left time for a Q&A, and all of the questions were for the students. The best part of the conference for me was the validation the kids received, especially T_____ — I had asked her to teach a part of her own choreography final for our workshop, and she worried to me that "I don't know how to teach"… then she got to see all the teachers learning her movement from her and loving it (some of them were pulling out some of her "moves" at the post-banquet dance party!)
The next year, A_____ had applied for NDEO's national student award (the Artistic Merit, Leadership, and Academic Achievement Award), and been awarded an honorable mention; so we fundraised for her to be able to attend the conference again. I think it was more difficult for her this time, as she was the only teenager there among so many adults — less camaraderie, more weird grown-up food… But she was able to experience New York, the dance capital of the US; and she was able to participate in Bill Evans' "Passing on the Legacy" site-specific choreography for high school and college students (or, herself and about twenty college students), performed beautifully in the lobby of LaGuardia Arts High School on the last day of the conference.
So, this week I will be at the conference on my own for the first time in years… I guess I will have a little more freedom to run around to all of the workshops without the responsibility of looking after a teenager or two — but also without the richness of being able to share the experience with budding young dance artists. Attending a dance teachers' conference has always been a rejuvenating experience... but sharing it with students was truly unforgettable.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
the importance and scarcity of dance education (revisited)
a few quotes:
“[Students] should be able to communicate at a basic level in the four arts disciplines-- dance, music, theatre, and the visual arts. This includes knowledge and skills in the use of the basic vocabularies, materials, tools, techniques, and intellectual methods of each arts discipline. They should be able to communicate proficiently in at least one art form, including the ability to define and solve artistic problems with insight, reason, and technical proficiency. ”
-- National Standards for Arts Education: What every young American should know and be able to do in the arts
“The direct physical experience of dancing transforms the dancer into a powerful and expressive being... Choreographing and performing his or her dance requires the student dancer to go beyond known experience to create new forms...”
— California Visual and Performing Arts Framework, p.32
"This study [of English learners in California] confirmed previous research findings... that students generally preferred to learn through a kinesthetic mode."
- Clara C. Park, Crosscultural Differences in Learning Styles of Secondary English Learners
"The evidence shows that… the prime processing mode for Black [students] is kinesthetic."
- Stephen Earl White, Factors That Contribute to Learning Difference among African American and Caucasian Students
a few statistics:
• 89% of California K-12 schools fail to offer a standards-based course of study in all four [arts]
disciplines—music, visual arts, theatre, and dance—and thus fall short of state goals for arts education.
• More than four in five [of California’s elementary students] are not receiving any standards-aligned instruction in theatre and dance.
• Only 9% of middle school students and only 4% of high school students in California participate in standards-based dance programs in any given year.
• Only 13% of San Francisco Bay Area schools offered a standards-based course of study in dance.
- all statistics from An unfinished canvas. Arts education in California: Taking stock of policies and practices — Summary Report and Bay Area Report
“[Students] should be able to communicate at a basic level in the four arts disciplines-- dance, music, theatre, and the visual arts. This includes knowledge and skills in the use of the basic vocabularies, materials, tools, techniques, and intellectual methods of each arts discipline. They should be able to communicate proficiently in at least one art form, including the ability to define and solve artistic problems with insight, reason, and technical proficiency. ”
-- National Standards for Arts Education: What every young American should know and be able to do in the arts
“The direct physical experience of dancing transforms the dancer into a powerful and expressive being... Choreographing and performing his or her dance requires the student dancer to go beyond known experience to create new forms...”
— California Visual and Performing Arts Framework, p.32
"This study [of English learners in California] confirmed previous research findings... that students generally preferred to learn through a kinesthetic mode."
- Clara C. Park, Crosscultural Differences in Learning Styles of Secondary English Learners
"The evidence shows that… the prime processing mode for Black [students] is kinesthetic."
- Stephen Earl White, Factors That Contribute to Learning Difference among African American and Caucasian Students
a few statistics:
• 89% of California K-12 schools fail to offer a standards-based course of study in all four [arts]
disciplines—music, visual arts, theatre, and dance—and thus fall short of state goals for arts education.
• More than four in five [of California’s elementary students] are not receiving any standards-aligned instruction in theatre and dance.
• Only 9% of middle school students and only 4% of high school students in California participate in standards-based dance programs in any given year.
• Only 13% of San Francisco Bay Area schools offered a standards-based course of study in dance.
- all statistics from An unfinished canvas. Arts education in California: Taking stock of policies and practices — Summary Report and Bay Area Report
Saturday, September 29, 2012
teaching "cultural" dance forms (part 2)
Another BIG question in this for me, of course, is that label itself: "cultural dance," "ethnic dance," "world dance," "folk dance"… If hula, Haitian, Kathak, and kolos are defined as "cultural" dance, then does that leave ballet and modern dance, the western "concert dance" forms, as the norm? Do we look upon ballet and modern as "high art" and relegate "ethnic dance" to lesser performance status because of the label? What criteria do we use to define ethnic or cultural dance?
I might start with one distinction within what we usually think of as ethnic dance — folk versus classical. On the one hand are the true folk dances: dances that do not demand a lifetime of study, but were traditionally performed by anyone in the community, or the community as a whole — like those Bulgarian dances I am so fond of, and including social dances from many cultures.
On the other hand, among the forms commonly labeled and presented as world or ethnic dance are classical, studied traditions such as the classical dance forms of India (among them Kathak, Bharata Natyam, and Odissi) and the court dances of Java and Cambodia — all of which demand many years of rigorous training to learn and perfect. Likewise, though not often spoken of as a "classical" form, Hawai'ian hula is a dance tradition handed down over the centuries from kumu to haumana, with a gestural language recognizable to all students of the form — much as any ballet dancer would recognize a frappé or grand battement. Many of these forms developed in royal courts, just as ballet originated in the royal courts of France… so why is ballet not usually considered to be a "cultural" dance form? (In my own teaching, I do treat it that way — I first introduce ballet to my beginning dance classes in the Spring semester, when we explore forms from various cultures). It is not presented in "world dance" venues like San Francisco's Ethnic Dance Festival or Cal Performances' "world stage' series — is that simply because ballet companies already have copious opportunities for performance, or does it have to do with its culture being European and not "other"?
As we talked about this, I realized that there may be another distinction I had not thought of: between dance forms that originated from certain cultures (whether classical forms such as Kathak, ballet, or hula, or folk dances such as Balkan kolos or Appalachian clogging), and dance techniques that were developed by one person, often as a means of personal expression. This may be the distinction between what we call cultural forms and modern dance techniques, as most (all?) of those were the vision of one person — often as a reaction against previous dance forms, or at least breaking away from a mentor to begin a new style. What we call cultural forms are generally a result of years or decades of tradition — whether formally taught (as in classical forms) or passed along informally (as in folk dances). There are social dances — such as Charleston or Lindy hop — that seem to be a radical departure from what came before… but even those, if viewed in the context of dances of the African diaspora rather than American social dance, fit into a tradition.
There are so many issues tangled up in this — I pull one strand, and so many more questions come tumbling out! I will have to stop, but I would love to know what any of you out there think...
I might start with one distinction within what we usually think of as ethnic dance — folk versus classical. On the one hand are the true folk dances: dances that do not demand a lifetime of study, but were traditionally performed by anyone in the community, or the community as a whole — like those Bulgarian dances I am so fond of, and including social dances from many cultures.
On the other hand, among the forms commonly labeled and presented as world or ethnic dance are classical, studied traditions such as the classical dance forms of India (among them Kathak, Bharata Natyam, and Odissi) and the court dances of Java and Cambodia — all of which demand many years of rigorous training to learn and perfect. Likewise, though not often spoken of as a "classical" form, Hawai'ian hula is a dance tradition handed down over the centuries from kumu to haumana, with a gestural language recognizable to all students of the form — much as any ballet dancer would recognize a frappé or grand battement. Many of these forms developed in royal courts, just as ballet originated in the royal courts of France… so why is ballet not usually considered to be a "cultural" dance form? (In my own teaching, I do treat it that way — I first introduce ballet to my beginning dance classes in the Spring semester, when we explore forms from various cultures). It is not presented in "world dance" venues like San Francisco's Ethnic Dance Festival or Cal Performances' "world stage' series — is that simply because ballet companies already have copious opportunities for performance, or does it have to do with its culture being European and not "other"?
As we talked about this, I realized that there may be another distinction I had not thought of: between dance forms that originated from certain cultures (whether classical forms such as Kathak, ballet, or hula, or folk dances such as Balkan kolos or Appalachian clogging), and dance techniques that were developed by one person, often as a means of personal expression. This may be the distinction between what we call cultural forms and modern dance techniques, as most (all?) of those were the vision of one person — often as a reaction against previous dance forms, or at least breaking away from a mentor to begin a new style. What we call cultural forms are generally a result of years or decades of tradition — whether formally taught (as in classical forms) or passed along informally (as in folk dances). There are social dances — such as Charleston or Lindy hop — that seem to be a radical departure from what came before… but even those, if viewed in the context of dances of the African diaspora rather than American social dance, fit into a tradition.
There are so many issues tangled up in this — I pull one strand, and so many more questions come tumbling out! I will have to stop, but I would love to know what any of you out there think...
Monday, September 24, 2012
teaching cultural dance forms (part 1)
Another subject we explored in some depth during Luna's Advanced Summer Institute was teaching cultural dance forms in schools. This is a topic which poses a lot of dilemmas for me... but also about which I am fairly passionate, since much of my performance experience has been in forms that tend to be labeled "cultural" or "world" or "ethnic" dance. My longest-running performing experience was 20 years with Westwind International Folk Ensemble, which focused on Eastern European, Central Asian, and historical American dance forms; I also had the chance to dance with a local Polynesian halau for a couple of years, before my teaching schedule got too hectic.
One of the big issues for me is teaching with authenticity. Perhaps this comes from my performance background — Westwind's focus was always on the "preservation of folk traditions" — presenting dances as they would have been done in real life (as much as possible, when adapted for stage) rather than in flashy theatrical presentations. And the kumu of the hula halau I studied in just happened to be a cultural anthropologist, very concerned with the true origins of the dances in that ancient form. So…
The California state content standards, within the "historical and cultural content" strand, strongly suggest learning "folk/traditional" and social dances from the US and other countries (starting right from kindergarten). And, at least in my work with teens, I have found students to be very interested in learning various cultural forms — whenever beginning a new class, I always get the questions: Can we learn belly dance? Can we learn salsa? Bollywood? Merengue? Charleston…? This goes right along with teens' predilection for learning steps and styles, of course (although beginners can tend to get pretty impatient with learning about the cultural backgrounds in depth).
At the same time, it is important to teach what you are expert in — so the question is, how much of an expert do you need to be? For example, I personally would feel very comfortable teaching various Bulgarian dances, or a Charleston, or certain kahiko or 'auana hulas, as they are among dances that I performed for years, and the preparation for performing included becoming well-steeped in their backgrounds and histories… However, although I have studied forms such as Dunahm African-Haitian technique or Middle Eastern beledi, I don't feel I know nearly enough about those forms and their backgrounds to do justice to the cultures behind them. At EOSA, we were fortunate to have had a free residency from a local company specializing in African and African-diaspora dance forms for a few years, so my students were able to learn Congolese and African-Haitian from true experts; but that is (obviously) not always possible… so what to do???
In my own teaching, I compromise, of course… I would love to be able to teach only those forms that I am most expert at — but I'm afraid most teenagers don't exactly share my passion for Bulgarian or Croatian dance (what a surprise!), and to some extent I feel I need to at least give them some exposure to the forms of their own cultural backgrounds. So over the years I have revisited (with my beginning classes only) a few of the Congolese dances that were brought to EOSA by our Congolese expert in the years we had her residency, as well as a couple of dances from Michoacan that were taught in EOSA's first year, when we also had a residency in Baile Folklorico. I always try to focus on the cultural backgrounds that I absorbed from the experts; and I also stress to my students that I am not an expert in these forms, that this is just a tiny taste of the breadth and depth of these dance traditions, and that they should seek out further training from real experts. Even at that, I still feel a little out of my depth when teaching those dances… fortunately, my students have usually been pretty receptive to some of the forms that I do feel pretty confident in, such as Hawai'ian or Charleston — although I haven't tried teaching much in the way of Bulgarian to teens yet!
Well, there's a lot more to this — but this is getting kind of long already, so I think I'll leave the rest for another post soon.
One of the big issues for me is teaching with authenticity. Perhaps this comes from my performance background — Westwind's focus was always on the "preservation of folk traditions" — presenting dances as they would have been done in real life (as much as possible, when adapted for stage) rather than in flashy theatrical presentations. And the kumu of the hula halau I studied in just happened to be a cultural anthropologist, very concerned with the true origins of the dances in that ancient form. So…
The California state content standards, within the "historical and cultural content" strand, strongly suggest learning "folk/traditional" and social dances from the US and other countries (starting right from kindergarten). And, at least in my work with teens, I have found students to be very interested in learning various cultural forms — whenever beginning a new class, I always get the questions: Can we learn belly dance? Can we learn salsa? Bollywood? Merengue? Charleston…? This goes right along with teens' predilection for learning steps and styles, of course (although beginners can tend to get pretty impatient with learning about the cultural backgrounds in depth).
At the same time, it is important to teach what you are expert in — so the question is, how much of an expert do you need to be? For example, I personally would feel very comfortable teaching various Bulgarian dances, or a Charleston, or certain kahiko or 'auana hulas, as they are among dances that I performed for years, and the preparation for performing included becoming well-steeped in their backgrounds and histories… However, although I have studied forms such as Dunahm African-Haitian technique or Middle Eastern beledi, I don't feel I know nearly enough about those forms and their backgrounds to do justice to the cultures behind them. At EOSA, we were fortunate to have had a free residency from a local company specializing in African and African-diaspora dance forms for a few years, so my students were able to learn Congolese and African-Haitian from true experts; but that is (obviously) not always possible… so what to do???
In my own teaching, I compromise, of course… I would love to be able to teach only those forms that I am most expert at — but I'm afraid most teenagers don't exactly share my passion for Bulgarian or Croatian dance (what a surprise!), and to some extent I feel I need to at least give them some exposure to the forms of their own cultural backgrounds. So over the years I have revisited (with my beginning classes only) a few of the Congolese dances that were brought to EOSA by our Congolese expert in the years we had her residency, as well as a couple of dances from Michoacan that were taught in EOSA's first year, when we also had a residency in Baile Folklorico. I always try to focus on the cultural backgrounds that I absorbed from the experts; and I also stress to my students that I am not an expert in these forms, that this is just a tiny taste of the breadth and depth of these dance traditions, and that they should seek out further training from real experts. Even at that, I still feel a little out of my depth when teaching those dances… fortunately, my students have usually been pretty receptive to some of the forms that I do feel pretty confident in, such as Hawai'ian or Charleston — although I haven't tried teaching much in the way of Bulgarian to teens yet!
Well, there's a lot more to this — but this is getting kind of long already, so I think I'll leave the rest for another post soon.
Monday, September 17, 2012
new class — Aspire Golden State Prep
Oh, dear — here it is more than two weeks into September, and I haven't posted yet this month! I hope I won't fall too far behind one this now that the school year is under way — back to prepping elementary visual art lessons (unfamiliar enough for me that I spend a lot of time at it). I've been meaning for weeks to write about another issue we had discussed at Luna's ASI — teaching "cultural" dance forms and authenticity — but that will have to wait until next time…
… because... I've got a new dance class this semester! It's at Aspire Golden State College Prep High School (or GSP for short), a charter middle- and high school in East Oakland (yay, back teaching in East Oakland, if only for one hour a day!). I'm teaching one beginning dance class, open only to juniors and seniors. So far I have nine students, some of whom are wonderfully enthusiastic and focused, and some of whom are more your typical teen beginning dance students, tending to waste a fair amount of time talking and giggling with each other... but I think a lot of that is self-consciousness and discomfort with something new, so will probably (I hope) diminish as we go along.
They have this feature in their system — a pretty excellent opportunity for the kids — where the juniors and seniors can take college classes in the afternoons (and be officially excused from their their afternoon classes on campus). So three of my students are only in my class three days a week (and in their college class on Tuesdays and Thursdays). It makes for interesting differentiated instruction, dealing with kids who are regularly gone — fortunately the ones who are gone twice a week are all in the really focused group, so they should be okay.
The main difficulty so far is… you guessed it, space! The space we are using is the lunchroom (well, actually about a third of the lunchroom), which needs to be cleared for my class every day. It's taken a few weeks to get through the channels and on the custodians' radar, so for these first few weeks I cleared as many tables and chairs as I could myself, leaving just enough space for my small class to do some (mostly axial) movement without seriously injuring each other. As I mentioned a few posts back, dance does not have anything like the ongoing need for supplies (books, art materials, whatever) of most other classes — but it is probably that big up-front investment in a dedicated space that prevents so many schools from even trying to start a program. I appreciate GSP for the desire and the will to start a dance class, even if there are some kinks in the support structure so far…
Meanwhile, we've done one week of introductory explorations and then a couple of weeks of jazz technique; in a day or two we'll move back into explorations (variations on a known phrase, now that we've got one they all know) and then on to their first choreography assignment. I can't wait to see how they do with their group work — it's kind of exciting going back to the beginning and starting a program from scratch!
… because... I've got a new dance class this semester! It's at Aspire Golden State College Prep High School (or GSP for short), a charter middle- and high school in East Oakland (yay, back teaching in East Oakland, if only for one hour a day!). I'm teaching one beginning dance class, open only to juniors and seniors. So far I have nine students, some of whom are wonderfully enthusiastic and focused, and some of whom are more your typical teen beginning dance students, tending to waste a fair amount of time talking and giggling with each other... but I think a lot of that is self-consciousness and discomfort with something new, so will probably (I hope) diminish as we go along.
They have this feature in their system — a pretty excellent opportunity for the kids — where the juniors and seniors can take college classes in the afternoons (and be officially excused from their their afternoon classes on campus). So three of my students are only in my class three days a week (and in their college class on Tuesdays and Thursdays). It makes for interesting differentiated instruction, dealing with kids who are regularly gone — fortunately the ones who are gone twice a week are all in the really focused group, so they should be okay.
The main difficulty so far is… you guessed it, space! The space we are using is the lunchroom (well, actually about a third of the lunchroom), which needs to be cleared for my class every day. It's taken a few weeks to get through the channels and on the custodians' radar, so for these first few weeks I cleared as many tables and chairs as I could myself, leaving just enough space for my small class to do some (mostly axial) movement without seriously injuring each other. As I mentioned a few posts back, dance does not have anything like the ongoing need for supplies (books, art materials, whatever) of most other classes — but it is probably that big up-front investment in a dedicated space that prevents so many schools from even trying to start a program. I appreciate GSP for the desire and the will to start a dance class, even if there are some kinks in the support structure so far…
Meanwhile, we've done one week of introductory explorations and then a couple of weeks of jazz technique; in a day or two we'll move back into explorations (variations on a known phrase, now that we've got one they all know) and then on to their first choreography assignment. I can't wait to see how they do with their group work — it's kind of exciting going back to the beginning and starting a program from scratch!
Friday, August 31, 2012
WCCHS, Dance-a-Rama, and collaboration
… Way back in the mid-'80s, while researching a piece using whale songs, I read a poem called "For A Coming Extinction" by W. S. Merwin, and it has haunted me ever since… (here's just a taste, the last stanza: "When you will not see again / The whale calves trying the light / Consider what you will find in the black garden / And its courts / The sea cows the Great Auks the gorillas / The irreplaceable hosts ranged countless / And foreordaining as stars / Our sacrifices / Join your word to theirs / Tell him / That it is we who are important") I felt that now, when we are facing environmental catastrophe (and while I was teaching part time), it was definitely time to finally respond to it in dance.
So — I would have been okay with just doing a little solo, but I started getting ideas that really needed a group… and by the time I had worked with the WCCHS students for a while, I could see that they might be up for a serious choreography project. So I put it to them one day — said it was totally optional, but I would like to see if anyone might be interested in working on a (semi) professional dance piece with me — and the four seniors were completely enthusiastic! I did warn them that this would be a blend of my ideas with some of their movement, that I would mostly be asking them to collaborate with me the way a choreographer collaborates with her dancers — and since they were up for it, we agreed to get started the next week (I did ask the rest of the class to work on it with us, at least at the beginning, so that they could have the collaboration experience also).
My big structural idea was to keep the beginning a solo, danced to the poem, but to have the group enter during that last stanza — and to have the group section based on an accumulation in reverse: the group would repeat a ground bass phrase over and over as each dancer solos; then one by one, each dancer would freeze, hold her shape, and slowly melt to the ground; and as she melts, the group would subtract her movement from the ground bass, until the last dancer would be performing just one movement over and over again… to somehow symbolize in movement the loss of diversity, the "dark and gathering sameness" (to borrow a phrase from Terry Glavin) of extinction...
So I asked each dancer to create a solo symbolizing in movement any animal she chose, and to pick one movement from it for the ground bass. We did a lesson on abstracting animal movements, taking off from a lesson in Mary Joyce's book (I had done a very simple version with kindergartners earlier in the year, so it was really interesting to expand the lesson and see what accomplished high school students could do with it). They chose a good range of different animals: crab, flamingo, lion, and bear. The movements they abstracted came out beautifully, as all were so different from each other — tiny, quick hand gestures for the crab; large, flowing movements for the flamingo; strong low-level movement for the lion... The hard part was setting the de-accumulation — we found it was really hard to remember to do each shorter version of the phrase (even though we could see each dancer melting away!)... We did need a few rehearsals outside of class time, but not too many.
Performance time was at the end of April. It was lovely for me, as Dance-a-Rama takes place at the Eighth Street studio complex, where I have studied Hawkins technique for years (no, decades) with Ruth Botchan — so it was quite wonderful to be able to bring students to perform in that setting, with various dance friends watching. We started out at 10:00 to be there in time for the morning run through; then we went for lunch, so we were able to sit down and just talk about stuff other than dance — their college plans for this year, favorite food, whatever… Our performance was at 2:00 (second out of four shows) — they performed beautifully, and since we were the first piece, they got to come out to the audience and watch the rest (and when I went back to the dressing room afterward to pick up their costumes, I found they were all folded — I have never known teenagers to fold their costumes without being nagged!)
The dancers weren't able to stay for the audience reception at the end of festivities, hours later (finals coming up soon, and all those conscientious seniors had plenty of schoolwork after a full day of dancing), so I was the one to hear all the excellent feedback. When we got to our next class, we were moving right along into work with the rest of the class — so my only regret on this one is that we didn't really have a time to debrief and talk about how it felt for them, to dance for the community… But it was certainly a memorable experience for me — having students mature enough and open enough to collaborate with on a piece so close to my heart is an amazing gift; and, much like the group who created "All Arms Open…" four years before, this is one group of students I am not likely to ever forget.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
West County Community High School
Well, now that it's over it's (past) time to write about my experience at WCCHS. This was a little tiny (just over 100 students) charter high school in Richmond, serving a low-income community as well as a lot of kids who had trouble making it in big comprehensive high schools. I was only there for one semester — just long enough to meet some remarkable students who were able to do some beautiful work.
I got the position there — just one dance class, three afternoons a week, with nine lovely students (most first-year but I believe some of the seniors had taken the class in a previous year) — through my colleague Jochelle, who recommended me to the administration when she moved on to a full time job. At the time (last January), I was feeling so overwhelmed with learning to teach visual art (even half-time) that I was almost reluctant to take on anything new, limited though it might be — but my husband convinced me that I should, and I am now very grateful that I did.
Since Jochelle had been doing a lot of creative movement with them through the fall semester, they were already well warmed up for me when I came in the spring. I knew this class would be different the very first day, when I tried a short exploration — in my experience, typical teenage first-year students would stare at me as if I was crazy if I asked them to do anything improvisational ("I can't dance, you haven't taught me any steps yet!"). So as I often do, I started with an exploration based on concrete images (move or dance as if you've just found a $100 bill… as if you've just broken up with your boyfriend/girlfriend… moving against a strong wind… through sticky mud… across a high narrow bridge with no handrail…), then moved into a basic freeze dance focused on all the elements, just to see where they were — and they all dove in with the teen-dancer equivalent of wild abandon! … some varying degrees of engagement, of course, but all nine were dancing (no big attempts at strolling and chatting), and some were discovering a remarkable range of movement.
As we went along through the weeks, the class as a whole was wide open to whatever I wanted to try with them. Usually teens are so self-conscious ("ohmigod, I might do something dumb and someone might be looking at me!"), but many of these students (especially those seniors) kept on experimenting with their movement and further expanding their range… I could only guess that the support they received from the small school environment enabled them to feel comfortable working around each other. Some of these kids were so mature and open that I was able to collaborate with them as I rarely had with any students… but that's a pretty long story, so it will be in the next post (soon!).
So now, WCCHS is no more — the charter was up for renewal in June and the district denied it (because of low test scores would be a good guess). After being up in the air all summer as the school appealed to the county school board, the decision came down just a couple of weeks ago — no charter renewal, school closing down… I have so often heard of for-profit charters picking and choosing their students, or kicking out the ones who have trouble because they don't "fit with the program." This one little nonprofit actively pulled in students who were having trouble elsewhere (and probably tested badly because of it), nurtured them and helped them to find their way... and then got shut down. (sigh)… I suppose that's life in education in this day and age...
I got the position there — just one dance class, three afternoons a week, with nine lovely students (most first-year but I believe some of the seniors had taken the class in a previous year) — through my colleague Jochelle, who recommended me to the administration when she moved on to a full time job. At the time (last January), I was feeling so overwhelmed with learning to teach visual art (even half-time) that I was almost reluctant to take on anything new, limited though it might be — but my husband convinced me that I should, and I am now very grateful that I did.
Since Jochelle had been doing a lot of creative movement with them through the fall semester, they were already well warmed up for me when I came in the spring. I knew this class would be different the very first day, when I tried a short exploration — in my experience, typical teenage first-year students would stare at me as if I was crazy if I asked them to do anything improvisational ("I can't dance, you haven't taught me any steps yet!"). So as I often do, I started with an exploration based on concrete images (move or dance as if you've just found a $100 bill… as if you've just broken up with your boyfriend/girlfriend… moving against a strong wind… through sticky mud… across a high narrow bridge with no handrail…), then moved into a basic freeze dance focused on all the elements, just to see where they were — and they all dove in with the teen-dancer equivalent of wild abandon! … some varying degrees of engagement, of course, but all nine were dancing (no big attempts at strolling and chatting), and some were discovering a remarkable range of movement.
As we went along through the weeks, the class as a whole was wide open to whatever I wanted to try with them. Usually teens are so self-conscious ("ohmigod, I might do something dumb and someone might be looking at me!"), but many of these students (especially those seniors) kept on experimenting with their movement and further expanding their range… I could only guess that the support they received from the small school environment enabled them to feel comfortable working around each other. Some of these kids were so mature and open that I was able to collaborate with them as I rarely had with any students… but that's a pretty long story, so it will be in the next post (soon!).
So now, WCCHS is no more — the charter was up for renewal in June and the district denied it (because of low test scores would be a good guess). After being up in the air all summer as the school appealed to the county school board, the decision came down just a couple of weeks ago — no charter renewal, school closing down… I have so often heard of for-profit charters picking and choosing their students, or kicking out the ones who have trouble because they don't "fit with the program." This one little nonprofit actively pulled in students who were having trouble elsewhere (and probably tested badly because of it), nurtured them and helped them to find their way... and then got shut down. (sigh)… I suppose that's life in education in this day and age...
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
interesting art teacher blog
This is not really dance or dance ed, but... In my (now) regular job (the art prep position I took when my dance program closed, to avoid going back to teaching middle school PE), I have just become what is referred to as an "art on a cart" teacher. Last year I had walked into an ideal situation for a newbie art teacher: the retiring art teacher was still frequently at school and available for advice, and I inherited a fabulously well-stocked and well-organized art room — pretty much the equivalent of the "dance teacher heaven " dance studio I had at EOSA. Well, fast-forward to this year, when the district closed five schools, one of them very close to mine, and my school had to add both a kindergarten and a third grade — and naturally that lovely art room was the only space left available for that new third grade. So I just spent two days in the week before staff development clearing all of those well-organized art materials out of the art room and trying to organize them in my new home base, a corner of the copy room…
In the course of that, I realized that almost all of the art teacher blogs that I have so come to depend on for lesson and project ideas are written by teachers with their own art rooms — and that I would need to find some written by art-on-a-cart teachers who know how to simplify, and might have lessons that I can realistically deal with from my copy-room base. So I googled "art on a cart" + blog to see what I might find...
… So anyway, this is a long way of explaining why I added a link to a blog that isn't strictly about dance education — one of the blogs I found is called Art Teachers Hate Glitter, and the reason I am writing about it here is that so much of what she writes about is stuff that we dance teachers can so relate to! She writes about how hard it is finding a job as arts programs get cut, the foibles of her K - 6th grade students, and especially fighting the perception that art teachers are not "real" teachers...
One post called "Crafts are for summer camp. I teach art" is about that misunderstanding and lack of respect: "Art, what I teach, what I went to school for six years to become highly qualified to teach, is about teaching kids how to create, how to paint, how to draw, how to look at the things around them, solve problems through experimentation, investigation and problem solving..." One thing that struck me was how much her description of teaching art also describes my emphases in teaching dance (problem solving, experimentation aka exploration…); but the other, of course, was how often I hear similar sentiments about dance — how many times have I heard a school justify its lack of a dance program because they have a "dance team"? (do they actually not understand the difference?)
Anyway — I know it's not as if anyone out there has oodles of extra time to spare… but if you want to find a kindred spirit in a different art form (who happens to be hilarious to boot), I highly recommend this one!
In the course of that, I realized that almost all of the art teacher blogs that I have so come to depend on for lesson and project ideas are written by teachers with their own art rooms — and that I would need to find some written by art-on-a-cart teachers who know how to simplify, and might have lessons that I can realistically deal with from my copy-room base. So I googled "art on a cart" + blog to see what I might find...
… So anyway, this is a long way of explaining why I added a link to a blog that isn't strictly about dance education — one of the blogs I found is called Art Teachers Hate Glitter, and the reason I am writing about it here is that so much of what she writes about is stuff that we dance teachers can so relate to! She writes about how hard it is finding a job as arts programs get cut, the foibles of her K - 6th grade students, and especially fighting the perception that art teachers are not "real" teachers...
One post called "Crafts are for summer camp. I teach art" is about that misunderstanding and lack of respect: "Art, what I teach, what I went to school for six years to become highly qualified to teach, is about teaching kids how to create, how to paint, how to draw, how to look at the things around them, solve problems through experimentation, investigation and problem solving..." One thing that struck me was how much her description of teaching art also describes my emphases in teaching dance (problem solving, experimentation aka exploration…); but the other, of course, was how often I hear similar sentiments about dance — how many times have I heard a school justify its lack of a dance program because they have a "dance team"? (do they actually not understand the difference?)
Anyway — I know it's not as if anyone out there has oodles of extra time to spare… but if you want to find a kindred spirit in a different art form (who happens to be hilarious to boot), I highly recommend this one!
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Spatial thinking
Last spring my principal sent around, with her weekly message to teachers, an article from the journal American Educator called "Picture This: Increasing Math and Science Learning by Improving Spatial Thinking." It says that there are three main kinds of thinking (not learning styles): verbal, mathematical, and spatial. Spatial thinking is apparently very important to learning in the STEM subjects (science, technology, engineering and math, for those not up on education jargon); yet while we focus intensely in schools on verbal and math skills, there has not been nearly the same focus on spatial thinking skills.
The article defines spatial thinking as concerning "the locations of objects, their shapes, their relations to each other, and the paths they take as they move," and describes some aspects of spatial thinking as being able to mentally rotate objects in space (two- or three-dimensional spatial visualization). Among their recommendations for improving spatial thinking in young children are to teach spatial words such as around, through, over, under, up, down, high, low, out, in, line up, etc., and to "encourage young children to gesture."
I of course emailed back immediately "Hmmm… sounds exactly like what we do all the time in dance education!" Of course, our work in the element of Space is all about spatial thinking — dance teachers teach entire lessons or units on concepts such as around and through, high and low, toward and away… We don't simply teach and use the words, we guide our students to explore as many variations on those concepts as they can discover through movement.
And those words and concepts pervade all of our teaching, no matter what dance element (or technique) we focus on… When we direct students, in the "freeze dance" to "find a shape with one arm high and one arm low… expand it… shrink it… make it spin… keep one part the same and travel around the room with it…" what are we doing if not prodding students to think spatially — and on a fairly sophisticated level? In technique classes, we quite naturally focus on nuances of space (size, direction, etc.) when correcting movements to a particular style. We constantly reinforce the ability to mentally rotate as we practice shapes and movements in different facings… and as far as encouraging children to gesture, what is dance if not gesture writ large (not to mention specific lessons on gesture abstraction)?
There is so much more that could be said about this… Perhaps just one more argument we can muster for the importance of dance education. There's a website devoted to spatial thinking which may be interesting to explore, so I'll add it to my arts ed advocacy links.
The article defines spatial thinking as concerning "the locations of objects, their shapes, their relations to each other, and the paths they take as they move," and describes some aspects of spatial thinking as being able to mentally rotate objects in space (two- or three-dimensional spatial visualization). Among their recommendations for improving spatial thinking in young children are to teach spatial words such as around, through, over, under, up, down, high, low, out, in, line up, etc., and to "encourage young children to gesture."
I of course emailed back immediately "Hmmm… sounds exactly like what we do all the time in dance education!" Of course, our work in the element of Space is all about spatial thinking — dance teachers teach entire lessons or units on concepts such as around and through, high and low, toward and away… We don't simply teach and use the words, we guide our students to explore as many variations on those concepts as they can discover through movement.
And those words and concepts pervade all of our teaching, no matter what dance element (or technique) we focus on… When we direct students, in the "freeze dance" to "find a shape with one arm high and one arm low… expand it… shrink it… make it spin… keep one part the same and travel around the room with it…" what are we doing if not prodding students to think spatially — and on a fairly sophisticated level? In technique classes, we quite naturally focus on nuances of space (size, direction, etc.) when correcting movements to a particular style. We constantly reinforce the ability to mentally rotate as we practice shapes and movements in different facings… and as far as encouraging children to gesture, what is dance if not gesture writ large (not to mention specific lessons on gesture abstraction)?
There is so much more that could be said about this… Perhaps just one more argument we can muster for the importance of dance education. There's a website devoted to spatial thinking which may be interesting to explore, so I'll add it to my arts ed advocacy links.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
the importance of dance education
I was recently asked in an interview to explain why I believe dance education is important (talk about a big question for an interview…!). I've had some ideas on that written down for myself for a long time — one of my last assignments from my student teaching seminar (15 years ago) was to write about my educational philosophy and why I feel the subject I teach is important — so I was able to pull out some of those points I've had in my mind for so long:
...that dance is the most basic and elemental or art forms, since in dance, the instrument is oneself — not a piano or violin, nor paint and canvas, nor even a smaller part of oneself such as the voice, but one’s own moving body… and students expressing themselves through movement are challenged to think in ways they may not have previously attempted, to form their thoughts and feelings into physical reality…
… that dance is one of the most universal and elemental of art forms — all cultures dance in some way, whether for ritual, celebration, social, recreation, or expressive reasons. Although dance leaves few physical traces and we cannot say for certain when it became part of human culture, it is likely to be among the oldest of art forms as well: there are cave painting depicting communal dances…
(Of course, I continued, one can also make arguments for the importance of all of the arts — I recently re-read The Grapes of Wrath, after many decades, and was struck by the power of fiction to convey the truth of a situation with so much more immediacy than any work of history I have ever read.)
But since I first wrote down those earlier thoughts, I found out a lot about the value of dance and the arts to those underserved students I taught at EOSA… I know there were a number of students who had trouble in their regular "desk" classes, and may not have stayed in school had they not had arts classes to come to every day (and as we were often told in staff meetings, in East Oakland the difference between staying in school and dropping out can be a life and death matter). But I remember especially one student in particular, who came into school wild and angry as a ninth-grader, but because of dance and track stuck with it and became one of EOSA's most diligent and accomplished students by her senior year. She was one of the group who created "All Arms Open" (below), and was asked to speak at an Alameda County "Art IS Education" event being held at EOSA… This is a part of what she said: "I come from a community where there are a lot of killings, the community right outside of this school, and I have lost six of my loved ones to gun violence… and because of that, I am sometimes deprived of my right to happiness… However, when I walk into the dance studio here at EOSA my feelings of being deprived of my right to happiness no longer exist. I feel like when I go into the dance studio at EOSA I am home— they are my family, we learn to care about each other... And things that I wouldn't be able to say in words, I know that I can express how I feel, and my ideas, through dance."
I can't add anything better than that…
...that dance is the most basic and elemental or art forms, since in dance, the instrument is oneself — not a piano or violin, nor paint and canvas, nor even a smaller part of oneself such as the voice, but one’s own moving body… and students expressing themselves through movement are challenged to think in ways they may not have previously attempted, to form their thoughts and feelings into physical reality…
… that dance is one of the most universal and elemental of art forms — all cultures dance in some way, whether for ritual, celebration, social, recreation, or expressive reasons. Although dance leaves few physical traces and we cannot say for certain when it became part of human culture, it is likely to be among the oldest of art forms as well: there are cave painting depicting communal dances…
(Of course, I continued, one can also make arguments for the importance of all of the arts — I recently re-read The Grapes of Wrath, after many decades, and was struck by the power of fiction to convey the truth of a situation with so much more immediacy than any work of history I have ever read.)
But since I first wrote down those earlier thoughts, I found out a lot about the value of dance and the arts to those underserved students I taught at EOSA… I know there were a number of students who had trouble in their regular "desk" classes, and may not have stayed in school had they not had arts classes to come to every day (and as we were often told in staff meetings, in East Oakland the difference between staying in school and dropping out can be a life and death matter). But I remember especially one student in particular, who came into school wild and angry as a ninth-grader, but because of dance and track stuck with it and became one of EOSA's most diligent and accomplished students by her senior year. She was one of the group who created "All Arms Open" (below), and was asked to speak at an Alameda County "Art IS Education" event being held at EOSA… This is a part of what she said: "I come from a community where there are a lot of killings, the community right outside of this school, and I have lost six of my loved ones to gun violence… and because of that, I am sometimes deprived of my right to happiness… However, when I walk into the dance studio here at EOSA my feelings of being deprived of my right to happiness no longer exist. I feel like when I go into the dance studio at EOSA I am home— they are my family, we learn to care about each other... And things that I wouldn't be able to say in words, I know that I can express how I feel, and my ideas, through dance."
I can't add anything better than that…
Thursday, August 9, 2012
What do we mean by "technique"…?
A few weeks ago I spent two days at Luna's Advanced Summer Institute with a half-dozen other dance teachers and three mentors. We had a lot of excellent discussions, among them one that comes up often — the roles of creativity vs. technique in dance programs. What was so interesting to me about this conversation was how differently we may think about things that I had pretty much taken for granted — in this instance, what we mean when we say "technique."
We started by quick-writing our own definitions of creativity and technique. I focused on the technique side (since "creativity" seemed daunting to take on in a short quick-write). I came to the question from a lifetime of modern dance training, taking classes in Hawkins technique, Weidman technique, Limón technique, Cunningham technique, Horton technique… So my experience with "technique" as a dance term was very much as a particular way of doing things — those "stylistic nuances" in the content standards, that differentiate one way of moving from another… So I wrote in my quick-write "technique = the correct (and safe) way to perform any particular style."
When we got to the discussion, Patricia, one of our mentors, suggested a very different definition from mine — that technique is the skill set that enables you to perform in whatever style you choose. We talked about the definition a lot, and came to the conclusion that this also implies learning the analytic skills that enable you to understand and internalize those differences — so that technique is all that gives a dancer the ability to know and show the differences between Cecchetti and Vaganova, or Weidman and Hawkins, or a Hawai'ian hula and a Tahitian 'aparima… the skills (both physical and analytical) that allow you to perform an attitude effacée or a Graham contraction or a fa'atere, and to get those nuances just right.
This was sort of a revelation for me, that there could be such a different way of thinking about technique. What it brought to mind for me was an idea that we had talked about in years past, that students who learn dance in a creative dance class, through the elements of space, time, and force/energy, are learning technique — that technique could be nothing other than a careful application of line, shape, size/range, weight, movement quality, flow, rhythm, accent, etc. I haven’t got it all worked out, of course, but it’s an interesting idea to think about...
On the other hand, I know I will continue to teach particular dance styles (whether it be Hawkins, Cecchetti, Dunham, kahiko hula, Bulgarian, or whatever), and probably call it “technique” (old habits die hard) — but perhaps at least with a different perspective on why I’m using that term. Good food for further thought, at any rate.
We started by quick-writing our own definitions of creativity and technique. I focused on the technique side (since "creativity" seemed daunting to take on in a short quick-write). I came to the question from a lifetime of modern dance training, taking classes in Hawkins technique, Weidman technique, Limón technique, Cunningham technique, Horton technique… So my experience with "technique" as a dance term was very much as a particular way of doing things — those "stylistic nuances" in the content standards, that differentiate one way of moving from another… So I wrote in my quick-write "technique = the correct (and safe) way to perform any particular style."
When we got to the discussion, Patricia, one of our mentors, suggested a very different definition from mine — that technique is the skill set that enables you to perform in whatever style you choose. We talked about the definition a lot, and came to the conclusion that this also implies learning the analytic skills that enable you to understand and internalize those differences — so that technique is all that gives a dancer the ability to know and show the differences between Cecchetti and Vaganova, or Weidman and Hawkins, or a Hawai'ian hula and a Tahitian 'aparima… the skills (both physical and analytical) that allow you to perform an attitude effacée or a Graham contraction or a fa'atere, and to get those nuances just right.
This was sort of a revelation for me, that there could be such a different way of thinking about technique. What it brought to mind for me was an idea that we had talked about in years past, that students who learn dance in a creative dance class, through the elements of space, time, and force/energy, are learning technique — that technique could be nothing other than a careful application of line, shape, size/range, weight, movement quality, flow, rhythm, accent, etc. I haven’t got it all worked out, of course, but it’s an interesting idea to think about...
On the other hand, I know I will continue to teach particular dance styles (whether it be Hawkins, Cecchetti, Dunham, kahiko hula, Bulgarian, or whatever), and probably call it “technique” (old habits die hard) — but perhaps at least with a different perspective on why I’m using that term. Good food for further thought, at any rate.
Monday, August 6, 2012
the relative scarcity of dance programs
Well, I'm a bit reluctant to take on an issue that sounds like complaining, but it has been on my mind a lot lately (especially after having spent much time over the past year looking for schools in my area which might need an experienced dance teacher)...
I am old enough to have grown up in the "golden age" of education in California (the 60s and 70s, pre-Prop 13), but in those days even my large (2400 students) high school had virtually nothing in the way of a dance program -- we had a one-semester PE elective, taught by a PE teacher obviously never trained in dance of any kind, who left us alone to group ourselves and make up dances for the whole semester.
In those days there were no state Frameworks or Content Standards specifying arts as core subjects or mandating access to education in all four major arts disciplines (dance, drama, music, visual art), as we have now -- yet it is discouraging to see, in many ways, how little has changed. I know, in these times of high-stakes testing and focus on ELA and math scores, that all the arts are struggling for space in the curriculum; yet when the subject of arts in schools comes up in general public discourse or in the local papers, it is so often framed as "art and music" classes. And while there are, of course, many schools both large and small with excellent dance programs (very many I could name right in my area), there are equally many with huge, thriving programs in three arts disciplines, and no dance at all. As just an example, in one local (fairly well-off, suburban) school district encompassing three comprehensive high schools, there are no high school dance programs at all, although each school boasts at least 30 courses in the other three disciplines. And should one of those schools actually wish to start a dance program, it would find at least one large obstacle: the district list of approved courses, including 51 classes in Fine Arts, recognizes no dance courses at all! (except as a unit within Core PE or a one-semester PE elective -- exactly what I had all those decades ago...)
So... why is this? I suppose that part of the difficulty is the lack of a dance credential in California — it is much harder to be taken seriously as a subject with no teachers credentialed specifically for that subject. There is also that PE thing — once thought of as a physical activity within PE, it is hard to get out of that mold (I remember one principal telling me that "we don't have a dance program because none of our PE teachers knows how to teach dance")… although the PE connection is also one of our advantages, as students are often able to take dance courses for Performing Arts, PE, or elective credit — definitely a saving grace when most districts require only one year of arts credit. I also realize the logistical barriers to starting a dance program: while we do not have the ongoing materials budgets that, for instance, visual art programs require (as I have certainly found out this year), there is that big issue of space -- we dancers do tend to be a little (rightfully) picky about safe surfaces and adequate space, so dedicating a room can be a big up-front investment. BUT there are those content standards mandating access to four arts disciplines — and it still feels as if we are so often left out of the conversation...
One of my teachers in college, Chitresh Das, used to say that "I am not a dance teacher, but a dance preacher" — meaning, as I recall, that he feels his mission in life is to continually remind the world of the importance of dance. At times I have felt that that is how I ended up myself — a "dance preacher" trying to convince the education world of the importance of dance in schools.
I am old enough to have grown up in the "golden age" of education in California (the 60s and 70s, pre-Prop 13), but in those days even my large (2400 students) high school had virtually nothing in the way of a dance program -- we had a one-semester PE elective, taught by a PE teacher obviously never trained in dance of any kind, who left us alone to group ourselves and make up dances for the whole semester.
In those days there were no state Frameworks or Content Standards specifying arts as core subjects or mandating access to education in all four major arts disciplines (dance, drama, music, visual art), as we have now -- yet it is discouraging to see, in many ways, how little has changed. I know, in these times of high-stakes testing and focus on ELA and math scores, that all the arts are struggling for space in the curriculum; yet when the subject of arts in schools comes up in general public discourse or in the local papers, it is so often framed as "art and music" classes. And while there are, of course, many schools both large and small with excellent dance programs (very many I could name right in my area), there are equally many with huge, thriving programs in three arts disciplines, and no dance at all. As just an example, in one local (fairly well-off, suburban) school district encompassing three comprehensive high schools, there are no high school dance programs at all, although each school boasts at least 30 courses in the other three disciplines. And should one of those schools actually wish to start a dance program, it would find at least one large obstacle: the district list of approved courses, including 51 classes in Fine Arts, recognizes no dance courses at all! (except as a unit within Core PE or a one-semester PE elective -- exactly what I had all those decades ago...)
So... why is this? I suppose that part of the difficulty is the lack of a dance credential in California — it is much harder to be taken seriously as a subject with no teachers credentialed specifically for that subject. There is also that PE thing — once thought of as a physical activity within PE, it is hard to get out of that mold (I remember one principal telling me that "we don't have a dance program because none of our PE teachers knows how to teach dance")… although the PE connection is also one of our advantages, as students are often able to take dance courses for Performing Arts, PE, or elective credit — definitely a saving grace when most districts require only one year of arts credit. I also realize the logistical barriers to starting a dance program: while we do not have the ongoing materials budgets that, for instance, visual art programs require (as I have certainly found out this year), there is that big issue of space -- we dancers do tend to be a little (rightfully) picky about safe surfaces and adequate space, so dedicating a room can be a big up-front investment. BUT there are those content standards mandating access to four arts disciplines — and it still feels as if we are so often left out of the conversation...
One of my teachers in college, Chitresh Das, used to say that "I am not a dance teacher, but a dance preacher" — meaning, as I recall, that he feels his mission in life is to continually remind the world of the importance of dance. At times I have felt that that is how I ended up myself — a "dance preacher" trying to convince the education world of the importance of dance in schools.
Saturday, August 4, 2012
All Arms Open...
A little background: I was teaching at East Oakland School of the Arts, a small high school in a part of Oakland often sensationalized in the local media as “East Oakland’s killing zone,” where kids walk around in t-shirts saying “RIP, gone but not forgotten” and miss school for way too many funerals of their peers. It was the fourth year of the school and the dance program, so some of the seniors in my Dance Production class had been with me since they were freshmen. I had set the focus of the class that year on dance as a way to respond to history or social issues.
In the Fall, we were asked to put together a dance/ritual for EOSA's Dia de los Muertos celebration. We started off by having each dancer make a very short (one- or two-movement) motif that somehow reminded them of someone close to them who had passed. We combined those movements into a group phrase, which was repeated over and over as a ground bass background for solos: each dancer came on stage and joined the group phrase, and then each dancer soloed around and through the group. The repetition gave the final dance a meditative, ritualistic feeling, which was perfect for the celebration.
While we were working on this piece, we got a call from the Dance IS folks. The Dance IS festival was a local multigenerational event, combining high school, college, and professional dance groups on the same stage — very cool, and very empowering for my high school dancers. We had been in the festival for the past two years, and had applied that year with a proposal that would have used a storyline to combine a lot of different dance forms. The word from the panel was that this year’s proposal sounded... well, a lot like our last two festival dances. They wanted us to concentrate more on one dance style, and especially wanted to see more evidence of the EOSA dancers' growth as choreographers and artists.
So I came to the class and told them that, essentially, the panel was really looking to see them use dance as a medium to express something bigger and more meaningful than "we like to dance and here are the kinds of dance we like to do." I reminded them that their focus that year was on dance as a way to respond to history, and that it might be good to think about some specific Oakland history or issue to express (to fit with the theme "local") — and asked them to think about it overnight.
When I asked for any ideas the next day, bubbly, enthusiastic Y___ said, so quietly we could barely hear her, “I think we should do a dance about the killings in Oakland... and we should use the Day of the Dead piece as one part of it.” Nobody said a word... I had to take a really deep breath, and said that this would be very serious and very hard — and that I thought the group was ready to take it on. I asked if there were any objections, and K___ spoke up and said “I want to make a dance that makes people leave the theater crying...”
We brainstormed a little on music and structure — settled on some instrumental beats, and a slow beginning feeding into the Dia de los Muertos part, the rest to be determined — and wrote up a new proposal, which was accepted by the panel a week after the Dia de los Muertos ritual.
So then came the hard part — actually choreographing a piece that would do justice to their experiences. I had pretty much no idea how to go about guiding them through this process, without telling them how to do the choreography or doing it for them... so, when in doubt, I had them pull out their dance journals: “how has this issue affected you personally?” “how would you choreograph the dance if you were doing it alone?” “what visual images do you see...?” The stories that came pouring out into their journals were amazing, and scary — and I knew we couldn't possibly do this piece without including their words. I asked them if we could add their voices to the opening slow section, had them each choose one or two sentences from their writings and mixed them over the music — and it became the entrance, as each dancer entered to his or her own words.
Then I needed some explorations to move the dance along. I started with some work with different energies, then with the five emotions that had mostly come up in their journals (anger, sadness, fear, confusion, and tranquility). Then my mentor suggested something about proximity — moving toward and away with different variations (rush... creep... as if you're scared... concerned... shocked... afraid to be seen... afraid to look but just can’t stop yourself... as if this happens every day and you don’t care anymore...), and they did it so beautifully we incorporated it into the dance and it became a central image, as one dancer fell in the center and others either rushed to her or walked unseeingly over her.
All through the process, the kids were on edge — sometimes having emotional outbursts, sometimes just wanting to give up — which I assumed was because of the extreme emotions of what they were working on. They got through it, and created a stunning piece — titled "All Arms Open, All Eyes Closed, All Hearts Speak," hence the title to this post — without doubt fulfilling K___'s wish to make the audience cry (some audience members who didn't know the dancers did confirm that for us). Being able to take the often tragic reality of their lives and turn it into art was incredibly empowering for these dancers... and I suspected that once they had found they could make something truly meaningful in dance, there would be no going back.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Welcome!
Welcome to my new blog, and… where to start? Maybe just a little more about me and where I'm coming from than appears in that little blurb over on the side…
I've been teaching dance for -- well, decades (plural, not to put too fine a point on it). I started out in city rec departments, teaching ballet to kids and folk dance to adults, and spent a long time teaching technique in a little neighborhood studio; but for the last fifteen years I've been in public education, most of that in secondary schools. Just this past year, after losing my dance program to budget cuts and school consolidation, I have been teaching visual art (and some creative dance when I can) in elementary school.
I am passionate about a lot of issues around dance education, and I hope to talk about some of them here; I also have a lot of stories to tell from my years of teaching, and I hope to tell some of them as well. I can't promise any rhyme or reason in how I choose what issues to write about or what stories to tell (especially since most of my best dance teaching stories are from the past) -- this is a work in progress and an experiment, so I hope you will bear with me and get something out of it, and I would love to read your comments and perhaps start some conversations somewhere along the way... Thanks for reading
I've been teaching dance for -- well, decades (plural, not to put too fine a point on it). I started out in city rec departments, teaching ballet to kids and folk dance to adults, and spent a long time teaching technique in a little neighborhood studio; but for the last fifteen years I've been in public education, most of that in secondary schools. Just this past year, after losing my dance program to budget cuts and school consolidation, I have been teaching visual art (and some creative dance when I can) in elementary school.
I am passionate about a lot of issues around dance education, and I hope to talk about some of them here; I also have a lot of stories to tell from my years of teaching, and I hope to tell some of them as well. I can't promise any rhyme or reason in how I choose what issues to write about or what stories to tell (especially since most of my best dance teaching stories are from the past) -- this is a work in progress and an experiment, so I hope you will bear with me and get something out of it, and I would love to read your comments and perhaps start some conversations somewhere along the way... Thanks for reading
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